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Logan arrived back at Angel Wings Café not knowing what to expect. Tess could be so stubborn and annoying. She drove him insane with the snippy comments that were never far from her tongue.

But there was something about her, something that made him want to keep coming back. What he didn’t understand was why he seemed to be the only person in Bozeman she didn’t like, but he was going to find out.

He knocked on the front door of the café and waited. Tess hurried across the room and hauled him inside by the arm.

“Thank goodness you’re back. The Groovy Grans will be here in an hour.” She took the grocery bags out of his hands and walked into the kitchen.

“The Groovy Grans?” Logan followed her. The ovens were on and it looked as if a batch of scones were already cooking. She’d been in the middle of making something else. A bowl of creamy butter sat beside a bag of flour and a carton of milk.

“Can you pass me one of the small bowls?” Tess pointed in the general direction of the pantry.

He looked inside and grabbed a bowl.

Tess took it out of his hands. “The Groovy Grans are from Billings. They’re all grandmas who drive motorcycles. They go on weekend tours. On the first and third Saturday of each month, they pass through Bozeman for breakfast.”

“How many are you expecting?”

Tess broke four eggs into the bowl and started whisking them. “Fifteen.” She took a measuring cup off the counter and started pouring buttermilk into it. “How good are you in the kitchen?”

“Depends on what you had in mind.” He tried not to laugh at the scowl she sent his way.

“Do you know how to use a griddle?”

He looked at the stove and frowned at the heavy metal pan. “I’ve been running for forty minutes. I’m not smelling that sweet at the moment.”

“The pancakes won’t care what you smell like. Wash your hands and I’ll show you how to cook a pancake.”

Tess wiped her hands on her apron and took something out of a cupboard. She walked toward him with a determined look in her eyes. “Hold your arms up.”

“What do you…You’ve got to be joking.”

“Up. I’m on a tight time frame.” Tess held her spray deodorant in front of him.

“It’s pink.”

“Don’t be a wuss. The pancakes might not have a nose, but I do. Up.”

He stuck his arms in the air and glared at her. “As long as you know I’m doing this for humanitarian reasons only. If you tell anyone I wore girls’ deodorant I won’t help in the kitchen again.”

“The chance of you ever being out here with me again is almost zilch, so I guess we’re both safe.” She sprayed the outside of his T-shirt. “Now you smell pretty.”

Logan sniffed the air. “I’m going home for a shower after I’ve cooked the pancakes.”

“I hope so.” She pulled open a drawer and took out an apron. “Wear this.”

“Have you always been this bossy?”

“Only when I’m desperate,” she muttered. “Annie won’t be here for another half hour.”

Annie was Tess’ part-time baker. They’d worked together for as long as Logan had been in Bozeman.

Tess walked across to the long stainless steel counter in the middle of the room. “I’ve already put the dry ingredients in a bowl for the pancakes. I just need to add the buttermilk, eggs, and melted butter.” She picked up a spoon and started mixing everything together. She moved across to the stove, grabbing a stick of butter on the way through. “The griddle’s hot, so the pancakes can go straight on it. Add a pat of butter to the pan, then after it’s melted, wipe it around the pan with a paper towel.”

He pulled a paper towel off the roll and did what she’d said.

“If you’ve got excess butter in the pan, it will burn and that gives the pancakes a nasty flavor.” Tess took a ladle out of a drawer and started spooning pancake batter onto the griddle. “Half a ladle per pancake is enough. Just pour it on, then add another one. You should get four pancakes on the griddle at a time.”

Logan looked over Tess’ shoulder. “The pancake mixture is lumpy.”

“It’s supposed to be. Small to medium lumps are your friend. That way the pancakes will be light and fluffy. After the pancakes are on the griddle add a small handful of blueberries to the top of each one, like this.” Tess sprinkled fresh blueberries on the pancakes and reached for a spatula. “They’ll take about two minutes to cook on the first side and less on the second.”

“How do I know when to turn them over?”

“Air bubbles should have risen to the surface and they’ll look a little dry around the edges.”

He watched Tess flip the first batch, then slide them into the oven to keep warm. She handed him the ladle and smiled. “Don’t look so worried. As long as they don’t burn they’ll taste great. You do the next batch and I’ll watch.”

Logan felt as if he was going for a job interview. He poured the batter into the pan, added the blueberries, then watched them carefully while they cooked. He never would have thought cooking pancakes could be so stressful. He slid his first batch into the oven and relaxed.

“Good job,” Tess said. “Let me know when you’re getting low on batter. I’ll make some more for you.”

He nodded and added more pancake mixture to the pan. Tess went back to whatever she was making, working with a quick efficiency that impressed him.

He flipped the pancakes and watched them rise. “You started work late this morning.”

Tess glanced up from the bowl of ingredients she was mixing.

Heat hit Logan’s face and it had nothing to do with the stove. “I run. I notice things.”

Tess grunted and pulled a baking sheet out of a drawer. She started rolling balls of dough in her hands. “Why do you run so early?”

Logan opened the oven and slid the cooked pancakes inside. He didn’t feel comfortable talking about the real reason he ran. Ever since he’d come back from Afghanistan, he couldn’t sleep, couldn’t forget the images that were stamped on his brain. He’d written award-winning stories and nearly killed himself in the process.

Tess was still waiting for a reply, so he did what he normally did. Answered as close to the truth as he dared to go. “I wake up early. It keeps me fit.” He sprinkled blueberries on the next batch of pancake batter and stared at the pan.

The front door banged open. “Sorry I’m late,” Annie yelled from the front of the café. “How’s your head this morning?”

A mini tornado of red sweater and jeans arrived in the kitchen. “Molly didn’t get…” she stopped in the middle of the room. “Logan? What are you doing here?”

“Tess had an emergency.”

“You’re making pancakes?”

He nodded. “Blueberry.”

Annie looked between them and smiled. “What do you want me to do?”

“Make the apple huckleberry pies,” Tess said. “I’m just about to start the pecan pie Mr. Donaldson ordered.” Logan moved out of her way as she slid a tray of cookies into the oven. “The Groovy Grans will be here soon.”

Annie washed her hands and nodded. She lifted a container of sugar onto the counter and measured flour and baking powder into a bowl.

He watched Annie and Tess move around the kitchen, adding random ingredients to bowls. “Where are your recipe books?”

Annie grinned. “We don’t need them, not for the regular recipes anyway.”

Logan poured another batch of pancake batter onto the griddle. “I’m going to need more pancake mix.”

“Already on it,” Tess said. She left a bowl of batter beside him. “I’ll just check the café.”

She walked out of the room and Logan watched Annie roll out the pie crusts.

Annie smiled. “You must have done something really nice for Tess.”

“Because she’s not growling at me?”

She looked over at the kitchen door. “We had a really late night last night. I’m surprised she made it in here on time.”

“Where did you go?”

“Ennis.” The beeper on the oven went off and Annie took the scones out.

Logan laughed as he flipped the pancakes. “I wouldn’t have thought there’d be a whole lot of action happening in Ennis on a Friday night.”

Annie started peeling a bowl of apples. “You are so wrong. We had a great time. Molly and Tess hadn’t tasted moonshine before. Willie’s Distillery makes the best legal moonshine ever. Just don’t mention their bourbon whiskey to Sally when you next see her.”

“She liked it too much?”

“Enough to buy a few bottles to bring home. Can you pass me two of the lemons beside you?”

Logan looked along the counter and handed Annie the lemons. He heard the distant roar of motorcycle engines and checked how many pancakes he’d made.

Annie dropped the half-peeled apple in her bowl and raced over to a set of cupboards. “They’re early. They don’t usually arrive for

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