Apple Cider Assault

A beautiful autumn has swept through Firefly Junction, and Sunni Taylor is looking forward to attending the annual season opener at the cider mill with her friend, Raine Lawford. Raine has a new boyfriend, and he works at the mill. Sunni is excited to meet him. Everything about the day is a celebration of tastes and smells and crisp fall weather. The only gray spot on the day is the mill owner, Shawn Griswold. He’s unfriendly, unlikable, and he’s spent a good part of the day firing his staff, including the mill’s baker.

Emily is recruited to bake apple pies for the second day of the event, but when Sunni goes with her to deliver the pies, they are shocked to discover that someone has murdered the mill owners. When Jackson’s main suspect turns out to be Raine’s new boyfriend, Sunni is determined to solve the case and clear his name. Unfortunately, Shawn Griswold’s disagreeable personality left him with a lot of enemies, so Sunni has her work cut out.

"Magnificent, just magnificent," Edward said.

"Look! Look. Did you see that?" Jackson said excitedly as if he was a little kid watching a parade. "Look at the way he arches his neck when he picks up the lope. That's what we people in this century call attitude. That gelding has attitude."

"I agree. But one small point of interest—that's a canter, not a lope."

"You call it what you want. I think we can both pat ourselves on the back for this one."

I half expected Jackson to reach up and pat Edward on the back, only that would be futile since Edward was only the vaporous image of a man who lived two centuries ago at my home, the Cider Ridge Inn. Still, watching Edward Beckett stand next to his most recent descendant and my boyfriend, Brady Jackson, it was hard to believe Edward was no longer among the living. The men had finally found something that held both their interests—horses. Jackson built a fantastic barn in the pastures behind the house, and now we'd added a beautiful bay gelding named Cash to our farm. Coco and Sassy, our two goats, joined us last year, and they'd been an absolute delight, but the horse had the men positively swooning. The horse was, as Edward crooned, magnificent. His coat was a dark cocoa brown, which contrasted perfectly with a long black mane, tail and charcoal black socks.

Jackson laughed. "Did you see that little shake of his head? Total attitude."

Redford and Newman, my border collies, barked excitedly at the front door. I left the drawing room window and my secret viewing spot to answer the door. I was expecting Raine for breakfast. I had the day off from the office, not out of the goodness of the newspaper owner's heart but because Prudence Mortimer knew I'd be giving up my Saturday to cover the season opener at the local cider mill.

Redford and Newman kept up the clamor and enthusiastically urged me toward the front door. They knew Raine would have a pocketful of treats. Raine, my best friend and the town psychic, was the only person, other than Jackson, who knew about my resident ghost. She had more than a small crush on my nineteenth century inhabitant. It was hard to blame her. Edward was no longer flesh and blood, but he was quite the picture in his waistcoat and tall black boots. The posh English accent didn't hurt either.

I swung open the door. It might have been the swirl of fiery colors outside, but I could have sworn I smelled pumpkin spice in the breeze. "I've been knocking like an impatient trick-or-treater waiting for candy." Raine swept inside, her colorful skirt flowing around her legs. Redford and Newman sat down and waited for their treat.

I laughed. "Five seconds ago, they were barking and jumping around like two wild puppies, now they look like students at a strict prep school. How do you get them to do that?"

"My sixth sense gives me a little nudge in the animal world, too. Plus, they know they need to sit before they get their treat. What took you so long to come to the door?" She started off toward the kitchen, a logical choice considering the invite to breakfast, but I nodded toward the drawing room.

"Coffee is ready, but there's something you have to see first. It's the cutest thing since that viral video of the porcupine eating a pumpkin."

"I've seen your drawing room and yes, the throw pillows with the sheep are very cute. I don't have any coffee yet," she complained.

I'd left the window in the drawing room open. I turned back to Raine and put a finger to my lips to shush her. Her forehead furrowed in confusion and irritation because I'd pulled her away from the coffee aroma.

"I think he needs a good grooming," Edward said. "That coat will shine up nicely." Edward chuckled. "He'll be ready to stand for a portrait. I had my first portrait painted on my horse, Jasper. He was, in all honesty, a pony, but my seven-year-old self thought he was the finest horse in the county."

"I agree the last owners were lax on grooming. Although that winter coat is starting to sprout, so there won't be much shine."

"True. He does look woolly."

Raine and I hovered silently near the window. She covered her mouth to stifle a snicker. Until we started building the barn, Edward had never ventured out the back of the house. His world had been limited to the interior of the house and the front stoop. His keen interest and insistence on being included in the construction of the barn had caused him to step out of the rear of the house. It turned out the barrier to his world extended about ten feet out from the back of the house. It was the same distance he could move out on the stoop, so it made sense. He'd inadvertently added more space to his limited world, and he was taking full advantage of it. The horse added another layer to his existence, too. He'd been a skilled and devoted equestrian in his day, and he'd taken his task of finding Jackson a suitable horse very seriously. It had been fun to watch the process. I was amazed at how much Edward could tell based on photos and videos. In the end, they'd both agreed that Cash was the best choice.

"He'll look dashing under a nice, tan leather English saddle," Edward said. "A slick one with shiny silver irons."

"I agree, only I ride western, so there'll be stirrups on my saddle," Jackson said.

Edward's image spun out of focus as he turned toward Jackson. They probably could have spotted Raine and me at the window, but they were too focused on the horse. "You can't possibly be planning to heave one of those hideous, unwieldy western saddles onto that horse!"

"I'm not going to prance around on one of those patches of leather you British call a saddle. I learned western. It's way more comfortable than an English saddle."

"I beg to differ."

"Have you ever ridden in a western saddle?" Jackson asked.

"I wouldn't be caught dead in one. Have you ever ridden in an English saddle?"

"Nope, and ditto."

"Ditto? What term is this?" Their voices grew louder and more aggravated. The cute show was over, and we were back to the usual annoying man-banter.

I motioned for Raine to follow me out of the room. She did so reluctantly. "But it was just getting good."

"Nah, I hear their contentious stuff all the time. But you should have seen them earlier. They were like two young parents cooing over their newborn. It was really sweet. I would have recorded it if Edward could actually show up on camera."

We reached the kitchen. Newman and Redford trotted in behind us and then went to the back door. They were both a little freaked out by the new four-legged visitor in the yard, but their curiosity kept them going in and out all day.

Raine poured us each a cup of coffee while I cut slabs of pumpkin bread. It was my sister Emily's recipe, of course, and I'd done a pretty darn good job with it, considering baking and cooking were down at about fifth on my list of skills.

I popped the slices into the microwave. Emily had sent a few tips along with the recipe, and the main one was to eat it warm out of the oven or zap it in the microwave. Heating the bread in the microwave sent a shot of nutmeg and cloves into the kitchen.

"Hmm, that smells even better than the coffee." Raine sat at the kitchen table.

I carried the pumpkin bread over and sat down. "How did the date go?"

"First of all, Tucker was an hour late." She tried to sound angry about it, but I sensed, from the grin she was trying to suppress, that the date went well. "His boss, Shawn Griswold, works him too hard. He brought me a box of chocolates to make up for being late."

"That works. I guess Tucker has been having to put in extra hours because this is opening weekend at the Griswolds' cider mill. I'm covering the event tomorrow."

Raine quickly swallowed the bite she'd been working on. "Oh good, we can go together. I told Tucker I'd be there. He's in charge of giving lectures about how the cider is made. A job he hates," she added. "He's a maintenance man, but there's also no one who knows the working of that old mill better than Tucker."

"I know the Griswolds in passing, but I've never really met them," I said. "What kind of people are they? Will my press pass get a warm welcome?"

"Oh, I'm sure it will. Lots of publicity for their mill. Tucker says that Amanda Griswold is very kind and respectful, but her husband is always grumpy. He only ever points out things Tucker does wrong. Never gives compliments, and Tucker works hard."

"That's a shame. Everyone likes to be appreciated for the work they do."

Jackson walked in. The dogs trotted in after him.

"How is the new boy?" Raine asked.

"He's simply magnificent," Edward answered for Jackson as he appeared in the kitchen. "I made a good choice," Edward continued.

Jackson raised a dark brow. "We made a good choice. It was a joint effort, remember?"

Edward shrugged his broad, transparent shoulders. "If you say so."

Jackson rolled his eyes and fortunately found a new focus. "Is that Emily's pumpkin bread?"

"Emily's recipe but made by these loving hands." I lifted my hands and turned them back and forth.

The hungry longing in Jackson's eyes faded a little.

"Oh my gosh, you're disappointed," I said. "Well then, don't have any. More for Raine and me."

"No, of course I want some," he said quickly, trying to make up for his very big misstep.

Raine tamped down a smile.

"Stop grinning," I muttered to her. "Or I'll just eat the whole loaf myself."

Raine sat up and wiped away the smile. "You're right. Like you said—everyone likes to be appreciated for their work, and this pumpkin bread is stellar. Possibly even better than Emily's."

I looked over at her. "Now you're just being annoying."

"Sorry. So, are we on for the cider event? I hear they're selling apple cider donuts this year, and I'm looking forward to trying one."

I'd been sufficiently insulted about my baking, but a cider donut did sound delicious. "We can go together. But remember, I'll be working. I can't stand around all day and watch you flirt with your apple cider man."