The first dough needs to be refrigerated overnight before rolling out. All three batches were made last night, tonight she is assembling and baking.
“Which first?” She chews her lip as she thinks aloud. “The open tarts are the quickest to make.” She mixes the dough and then grabs a large bowl and begins peeling and slicing plums and apples. Once that is complete, she rolls out the pie crusts flat and slices it into small hand-held sized portions. She tops each with plums, or apples, being careful to keep the fruit in the center. A quick egg wash and she rolled the edges up around to form the tarts crusty edges. Anika is elated to find that one batch of dough will make two dozen small tarts. She slides them in the hot oven and returns to the counter.
“That means I will have four dozen German Tarts?”
“Sounds delicious.” Glenn almost laughs when she startles and whirls around until he sees the fear on her face.
“Damnit, I didn't mean to frighten you, Anika.” He steps towards her, and she laughs nervously.
“I didn’t hear you come in,” she glances at him and is shocked by his gaunt appearance. A thick, full, beard covers his face and shaggy hair, but it is the haunted expression in his eyes that cause her to pause.
“We saved you a plate, sit down, and I'll get it for you.”
Glenn stares at her retreating back, “Something smells amazing, please tell me that I get to be your taste tester?”
“We’ll see,” she teases softly, “but first you have the finish your dinner.” Anika places a big bowl of Brunswick stew in front of him and a dinner roll. “Coffee?”
“Thank you,” he avoids further eye contact with her and digs into his soup.
Anika pulls the first patch of pastries from the oven and slides the second one in before turning to begin working on the German tarts. The kitchen fills with the scent of baked pies, and Glenn sits back to sip his coffee and watch her work.
While the first batch cools, she grabs the dough from the icebox and begins the process of rolling it and slicing. Each is sliced into long strips about six inches long.
“I haven’t seen you lately, how are you?” He asks.
“I'm doing well. I must thank you for hiring Mrs. Henrietta, she's a dream come true. It gives me time with Delaney, and the boys love her.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“How are you?” She asks as she dusts the table with flour and sits to begin the long process of twisting each strip. Once they are twisted, she swirls them in a circle and places them on the baking sheet.
“Tired.” He sips his coffee and steals a tart from the cookie sheet.
“Hey,” she laughs as he smirks.
“But not too tired to swipe one of these.”
“It’s not finished yet, I will dust them with the glaze just before serving.”
“Don’t mess with perfection, Anika,” he says taking a huge bite.
They stare at each other before she breaks away with a stammer, “They won’t be perfect if I burn them.” She hurries to the oven to pull the second batch out.
Glenn notices everything about her, from the healthy sheen to her hair, to the blush on her cheeks and even the smooth way she moves. Her wounds have healed well. Anika is a beautiful woman, and he's been purposely avoiding her. The first three weeks he spent a great deal of his nights with her and the twins, but it only made his attraction towards her grow stronger. After the cellar incident, he stopped them all together. He doesn't trust himself to be alone with her and not touch her.
“I’ve missed you,” he murmurs.
Anika freezes and her eyes jump to his. They both jump when Savanna walks into the kitchen holding a fussing baby. “Look who woke up.”
Glenn smiles and reaches for his son. He calms as soon as he’s lifted to his chest.
“He smelled the amazing pastries, no doubt,” Glenn says.
“Pastries? Anika, please tell me I can have one,” Savannah pleads.
“Okay, but only if you promise to walk with me tomorrow.” Glenn’s eyebrows lift in surprise.
“Deal,” she chooses her tart and sits at the table.
“Walk with you where?” He grumbles and pats his son.
“To the homestead, we’ve been cleaning it out for the past few weeks,” Anika replies and carefully applies a teaspoon of jam to the center of each cookie sized pastry.
Savannah watches the expressions on Glenn’s face carefully. “Let me do that, and you start the next batch,” she offers.
“Thank you, Savannah. I thought I’d have more time before they woke, but Quinton has decided to play catch up with his brother. He’s getting so big.”
“Why?” Glenn demands louder this time and pats his sons back causing a large burp.
“Wow, he sounds just like you, Daddy.” Savannah attempts to lighten the moment.
“Why what?” Anika quips ignoring Savannah as she slides another pan in the oven.
Glenn glares, “Why are you working at the homestead, you have two years before that is an issue.”
“One year and nine months, actually.” Anika stands up and stretches before grabbing her dusting sugar to top the first pan of cooled pastries.
“So, your counting down to when you can leave us?” Glenn snaps.
Anika stops moving and turns to glare at him.
“You can’t have it both ways. You’ve made your position clear, Mr. Ward.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Glenn barks.
“Ridiculous,” she hisses. Anika slaps the canister on the table and faces a startled pair of eyes, Ignoring Savannah, she snaps, “First you try to decide what I need in a
