Mayhem in Christmas River: A Christmas Cozy Mystery (Christmas River Cozy, Book 2) (21 page)

“You’re a hell of a hard woman to love, Cinnamon Peters,” he said. “You’re stubborn and you throw yourself in the path of danger without thinking how it’s going to affect the people who love you. You don’t listen to me. You’re paranoid. Really paranoid. And you make it so sometimes I don’t know what you want from me. I don’t know what you want out this relationship, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

My heart pounded hard in my chest.

The train was about to derail.

And all I could do was watch it all crash and burn. 

He paused, and I started to say something, but he interrupted me again.

“But…” he trailed off, an angry expression on his face. “But dammit if I’m not a victim here. Because even after taking all of that into account, I don’t love you any less, Cinnamon. Somehow, and I don’t know why, I love you even more.” 

If my legs were rubbery before, they were pudding now.

I could hardly stand anymore.

And then something happened.

A feeling of utter happiness pinged through my body like a pinball. An outrageous, delirious joy that filled my heart until I thought it might burst.

This wasn’t a break-up speech.

He wasn’t going to leave me.

“And if you don’t want to get married, then fine. I can live with that. But what I can’t live with is not being with you, Cin. And I know what that makes me, but I don’t care anymore. I’m yours. Through all of it and through whatever you want it to be. I’m your man.”

I thought I heard the sound of firecrackers.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

I couldn’t believe that I’d been so wrong about him.

I couldn’t believe that little Cinnamon Peters, a baker in a small town practically in the middle of nowhere, had somehow been so lucky.

I didn’t say anything for a moment while I tried to gather my thoughts. I could tell he was waiting for me to speak.

“Well, that’s all I’ve come here to say,” he said, finally. “Take it or leave it. You know where I stand.”

He grabbed his brown sheriff’s deputy shirt off the barstool and started putting it on.

“I’m going to work.”

He started to leave.

I pulled at his sleeve.

“Do you have to go in today?” I asked.

His pale green eyes sent chills through me as they met mine. The way they had that first time he’d come out of the cold and ended up on the back deck of my shop.

“Why?” he asked.

I grabbed his cowboy hat from off the counter and handed it to him.

“I feel like taking a hike today.”

 

Chapter 56

 

We finished off the rest of the rich and flavorful White Peach Mountain Blueberry Pie and sat lazing around in the tall grasses of the mountain meadow.

Some new wildflowers had bloomed since the last time we’d been up here, and they filled the air with a sweet fragrance as a soft breeze ran its hands through their stems.

Huckleberry was lying next to us, asleep. The summer sun gleaned off of his shiny black coat.

“That’s the one,” Daniel said, wrapping his arms around my waist. “That’s my very favorite. From here on out, I’m a White Peach Mountain Blueberry man.”

I laughed.

I’d finally gotten the recipe right. Turns out it needed just a little bit more cinnamon to tie all the flavors together.

“I’ll hold you to that,” I said. “It’s going to be on the menu from now on.”

“Fine by me.”

We sat a while longer, soaking up the sun, feeling as free as two people could on this earth.

After a while, I turned over to face him.

“I think it’s time,” I said.

He stared at me for a moment, and then smiled.

“You’re sure?”

I nodded.

“As long as you are,” I said. “If you still want to.”

“You already know the answer to that,” he said.

He grabbed my hands. 

“You’re gonna have to stand, though,” he said. “If we’re going to do this properly.”

He stood up and helped pull me to my feet. Then he fished around in his pocket until he found the small black box.

He fell to his knees.

My heart fluttered.

He looked up at me and smiled. And I suddenly felt that a woman couldn’t love a man as much as I loved Daniel Brightman.

“Cinnamon Peters,” he said. “My headstrong, fiery, pie-baking beauty, will you marry me?”

He popped open the black box and the ring glittered brightly.

I took a deep breath.

And then gave him my final answer.

Geronimo.

 

 

Coming in Fall/Winter 2014

 

Roasted in Christmas River: A Thanksgiving Cozy Mystery Novella

 

Mischief in Christmas River: A Christmas Cozy Mystery

 

 

Murder in Christmas River: A Christmas Cozy Mystery
(Book 1)

 

 

 

Madness in Christmas River: A Christmas Cozy Mystery (Book 3)

 

 

 

Malice in Christmas River: A Christmas Cozy Mystery (Book 4)

 

 

 

Burned in Broken Hearts Junction: A Cozy Matchmaker Mystery

 

 

 

 

About the Author

 

Meg Muldoon loves writing cozy mysteries. A former small town news reporter, Meg has always had a special place in her heart for lost dogs, homeless cats, and feisty, old locals. She enjoys bourbon bread pudding, red cowboy boots, and craft glue guns.

Meg lives in central Oregon with an Australian cattle dog named Huckleberry.

For more about Meg and her upcoming books, visit her
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To sign up for the Meg Muldoon New Book Alert mailing list and for
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Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

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