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one he’d brought every day to the bakery.
    “Do you want to come back to work
for me?” Sam asked, feeling a spark of hope.
    “Cannot. Bobul have other plans.”
He pulled the bag away from his body and practically stuffed his head inside
it. Both hands worked their way around in there. Finally, he came up with a
small reddish cloth pouch, which he extended to her with one hand while he
continued to stare into the bag. Another little drawstring pouch came out, then
a third, muddied shades of blue and green, respectively.
    “There. All fix now.” He stepped
back and tucked the messenger bag back under his coat, then redid the buttons.
    “What? What’s all fixed?”
    “Miss Samantha chocolate problem,
all fix.”
    She felt herself becoming
impatient and remembered what it had been like, having him around all the time.
“Bobul, explain. I don’t know what you mean.”
    He pointed at the reddish pouch.
“One pinch.” Then, indicating the other two, “Two pinch.”
    “A pinch of this,” she said,
holding up the first bag he’d handed her, “and two pinches of these? And then
what?”
    “Put in chocolate, voilà—” His
large shoulders rose. “Is perfect.”
    Huh? She wanted to get out
and shake him. Or just drive away and ignore him. Or wake up from whatever
weird-ass dream this was.
    Bobul patted the side of the van.
Then he turned and walked toward the building behind him. When Sam blinked, he
was gone. She stared toward the empty shop but saw no sign of the chocolatier
nor any clue as to where he’d gone.
    She quickly raised her window and
rechecked the door locks. That was just way too strange . She put the van
in gear and slowly pulled away from the dirt parking lot.
    At the next bend in the road, the
fog evaporated and a black sky with a million pinprick stars surrounded her. Okay,
now I am going nuts , she thought as she sped up.
    Her arms and legs suddenly felt
jelly-like and she wanted more than anything to be off this road and out of the
van. When she spotted the turnoff to Beau’s place just ahead, she whipped the
wheel to the left.
    The lights in his log house
glowed warmly in the dark night, and the trail of smoke from the chimney sent a
reassuring trace skyward. The dogs, Ranger and Nellie, set the alarm and Beau
stepped out to the porch as she parked in front.
    “Hey, darlin’, didn’t know you
were coming out tonight,” he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and
pulling her in close for a kiss. “Wow, you’re toasty warm.”
    She raised a hand to her
forehead. Maybe that was it—she had a fever and delirium.
    “Come on in. I just poured myself
a drink. What would you like?”
    His normalcy felt so reassuring
that Sam simply followed along, letting him take her jacket and hang it up. She
trailed along into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine from the
bottle she’d uncorked a couple of nights earlier when they’d eaten dinner here.
She’d been gradually getting used to the idea that this would soon be her home
too, trying to feel less like a guest.
    “So, what’s up? Busy day at the
bakery?” Beau asked as they settled together on the sofa.
    She took a deep breath. There was
no point in revealing how close to freaked-out she’d been just a few minutes
ago. Although Bobul had worked at the bakery for three weeks in December, and
Beau had certainly seen him there, he’d not really gotten to know the quirky
Romanian. In fact, there were a lot of things about Bobul that Sam had never
told her fiancé, mainly the fact that the man was in the country illegally.
    “I was just out this way,
attending a sort of memorial for the son of a customer,” she said. She took a
long pull from her wine glass.
    “Well, I’m glad you ended up
here. I actually got home on time, for once. Made myself a burger. Did you eat
yet? I could make you something.”
    She explained about the buffet
dinner at Marla’s, and the longer she talked the more she relaxed.
    “Beau, do you