“Angel, did you finish the éclairs?”

Angel Bennett looked up from the recipe she was studying and smiled. Her boss, Maggie Price, was staring down at her with her face flushed and wisps of hair poking out of her ponytail as though she’d just run a mile uphill.

“I did.” She pointed to an immaculate countertop in the corner of the Bluebonnet Café’s kitchen, which held four neat rows of a dozen chocolate iced éclairs each.

Maggie sighed and a relieved smile spread across her lips. “Thank goodness. The Ladies of Candle Beach are here this morning for their weekly breakfast meeting and I don’t know what they’d do if we didn’t have their standing order of éclairs ready for them. I’ll have someone bring them out to their table.”

Angel laughed. “I know. Last week I didn’t have them quite ready when they arrived and Agnes Barnes came into the kitchen to give me a talking to.” The Ladies, as they called themselves, were a group of elderly women who thought they owned the town of Candle Beach. Truth was, they probably did, or knew people that did. She tilted her head up to regard Maggie more closely. “Are you okay? You look stressed.”

“Oh, sure. I’m fine.” Maggie brushed the errant strands of hair back from her face. “I’ve just been running around like a chicken with my head cut off this morning. With the remodeling of the new event venue out at the Sorensen Farm and everything here and at home, I haven’t had much of a chance to relax.”

Angel narrowed her eyes at Maggie. Although she’d only known her for about a month, she’d come to respect her boss and considered her a friend. “You need to take better care of yourself.”

“I know. But that will have to wait until I get the barn remodeled for the Sweethearts’ Dance next month.”

“Is that on Valentine’s Day?”

Maggie nodded. “Yes. I don’t think we’ll have everything done, but a barn dance is supposed to be rustic, right?”

“Right.” Angel grinned and shook her head. A barn dance? Life on the Washington coast was a far cry from the big city life she’d left behind in Southern California.

“Now, how is the new chocolate soufflé recipe coming?” Maggie pointed at the recipe card, which had whole sections scribbled out. “I see you’ve been making some adjustments.”

“I’m tweaking it a little. It should be ready by tomorrow.” She checked the clock. “But I’ve got to get the muffins done first.” She hopped off the stool and walked over to the baking counter.

“I’ll let you get to it.” Maggie scurried off in the direction of her office, her wavy red hair streaming out behind her in a long ponytail.

Angel sifted flour and combined it with sugar and other ingredients to make the café’s famous blueberry muffins. She eyed the lengthy baking to-do list on the wall. This was going to take a while.

She poured the blueberry-studded batter into the deep wells of the giant muffin tins and sprinkled coarse raw sugar crystals over the top before placing them in the oven. When that was finished, she washed her hands off and started on the next task.

Back in Los Angeles, she’d attended college and then culinary school before working at an up-and-coming dessert shop until her mother had become extremely sick. After her mother died, she’d quit her job on impulse and moved to Candle Beach. Luckily for her, the Bluebonnet Café had been in dire need of a new pastry chef and Maggie had hired her on the spot. She had seen Angel’s potential and given her more responsibility than Angel had expected.

The job kept her so busy that she’d put off pursuing the reason she’d moved thousands of miles away from everything she knew. At least that was what she told herself. With a twinge in her stomach, she glanced at the staff lockers where she’d stored her cell phone and purse.

“Angel!” Elvin, the assistant manager, called to her from the kitchen doorway. “A huge group just came in and we need your help in the front.”

She checked the timer on the oven. Four minutes left. “I’ll be right there after I get the muffins out of the oven.”

He nodded and left.

The timer dinged and Angel pulled the muffin tins out of the oven, the heat blasting her face. After setting them on the cooling racks, she brushed off her hands and took a quick look at her apron. It was covered with flour—not a great look for customer service work. She hung the apron on a hook by the door and went out to the front to help at the register.

With the dishwasher running, the griddle sizzling and pots clanging in the kitchen, she hadn’t heard the din of the crowd in the lobby, but now she could see why they needed her help. A line of hungry customers snaked all the way outside and a cool breezed drafted through the lobby from the open door. She shivered and hugged her arms to her chest. As always, the kitchen had been warm, but out here, the January cold was apparent.

Maggie stood in front of the register, calmly handing change to a customer, but her eyes held a frantic gleam.

“If you can get the to-go coffee orders, that would be a huge help. I’ve marked them with each person’s name to make it easier.” Maggie nodded at the pastry case and a row of labeled paper to-go cups on the glass top, and then smoothly returned to helping customers.

“Sure, no problem.” Angel grabbed the first two cups and filled them with freshly brewed coffee, then placed the customer’s pastry order in a white paper bag before calling the name printed on the cup.

Forty-five minutes later, and only a few drink order mix-ups, the afternoon rush was finally over.

“Well, now that the whole town is caffeinated, I guess I can get back to baking,” she joked.

“I’m sorry, Angel.” Maggie’s lips turned downward. “I didn’t mean to take you away from your baking for so long. I can help you if you’d like?”

“No, that’s fine.” Angel smiled at her. “I don’t have any plans, so I can stay late today. Besides, you’ve got enough on your plate.”

Relief passed across Maggie’s face. “Thanks. I knew I made the right choice when I hired you. I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

Angel swelled with pride. Even if she had no family in town, Maggie had made sure she felt welcome there by finding her lodging and introducing her to her own friends. In L.A., she’d been so focused on work that she hadn’t had much time for friends, so she was enjoying her time in Candle Beach, for however long it might be.

“So are you going to go to the Sweethearts’ Dance?” Maggie asked while cracking open a new roll of quarters and depositing them in the till.

“Haha.” Angel made a face.

“What?” Maggie said. “It’ll be fun.”

“I don’t exactly have a sweetheart. I barely know anyone in town.” She used a rag to mop up a small spot of spilled coffee on the counter.

“Oh, that.” Maggie waved her hand in the air. “It’s just a name. You don’t even need a date at all. The Sweethearts’ Dance has been a Candle Beach tradition for over fifty years. Before I had the Sorensen Farm, it was held in the school gym. This year is going to blow all the other years out of the water.”

Angel thought about it. Since coming to town, she hadn’t done much of anything but go from work to home and back. A trip to the grocery store was the highlight of her week.

“I’ll think about it.” Even though Maggie had said a date wasn’t required, it felt weird to think of going to a couples dance without a significant other.

“Great!” Maggie hugged her around the shoulders with one arm.

“Do you need help getting the farm ready for the dance?”

Maggie hesitated. “Yes, but I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“Maggie. Do you know how much you’ve done for me?” Not only had she given Angel a job when she was practically penniless, she’d found her a place to live over her friend’s garage.

Maggie waved her hand in the air across her body. “Oh, that was nothing. Anyone here would have helped.”

“Not back home they wouldn’t have.” She frowned. Everything was so hectic in the city that people could barely remember a new person’s name, much less find them a place to live.

“Well, you’re here now and we take care of our own, okay?” Maggie smiled warmly at her. The regular cashier rushed in and relieved Maggie from her post behind the register.

Angel smiled at Maggie. “Thanks, though. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

“Don’t even worry about it. I’ve got to run, but check in with me later. I think Jake is organizing a work party next week out at the farm.”

“I’ll see you after my shift.” Angel grabbed her apron from the hook and tied it at her waist. Being out front wasn’t as bad as she’d thought it would be, but now she was ready to get back to doing what she loved.

Maggie nodded and returned to her office.

Angel retreated to her corner of the kitchen, her own little oasis set apart from the hustle and bustle of the grill and swinging door into the restaurant’s main dining area. She checked the baking list and pulled out the ingredients for the giant chocolate chip cookies that the customers couldn’t get enough of. She’d now made them so many times that she could bake them on autopilot, which gave her too much time to think.

It had been a while since she’d dated anyone, much less had anyone that came close to being a serious sweetheart. Maggie had recently become engaged to Jake, a man she’d known for many years, but hadn’t dated for long. Anyone with eyes could see that they were meant for each other and Angel had been rooting for them to be a couple as much as everyone else in town had. It was amazing how quickly things worked out when two people were destined for each other. Although she was happy for Maggie, she sometimes wondered if she would ever find the same happiness.

She shook her head. Now wasn’t the time. Finding her soul mate wasn’t the reason she was in Candle Beach. With the cookies in the oven, she made her way across the crowded kitchen to her locker. Her fingers trembled as she twisted the combination lock. When it clicked open, she glanced furtively around the room to see if anyone was looking. Everyone was engrossed in their own roles.

From her purse, she pulled out a Polaroid photo of a family standing in front of a white house. The photo was yellowed with age, but she knew it was the same house she remembered from a long-ago memory of Candle Beach. She’d finally worked up the nerve to search for the house, but with the short winter days, there likely wouldn’t be enough light left after work to see anything, much less look for a house that she wasn’t even sure existed. Still, maybe if she got out on time, she’d be able to do some reconnaissance.

* * *

When Angel pushed open the back door to the café after her shift was over, the streetlights were shining brightly and the sky was dark. Looking for the white house would have to wait for another day. She crossed through the alley to the sidewalk on Main Street, stuffing her hands in her coat pockets. In front of her, a happy couple swung their arms between them as they chatted, and she stepped aside to allow them room to pass without breaking their connection. A family with two small children darted across the street at the four-way stop’s crosswalk and headed toward the Chinese restaurant on the other side.

Angel stared wistfully at the children giggling as they skipped across. What would it be like to have a brother or sister? Growing up, she’d always wished for a large family, but it had just been her and her mother for most of her childhood. That house in the picture may be the answer to her prayers—if only she could locate it. She pushed the frustration out of her head and climbed the hill above town to the studio apartment she was renting over Maggie’s friend Gretchen’s garage. When the beautiful robin’s egg blue Craftsman home Gretchen lived in came into view, she hiked down a side street to the alley.

At the top of the carriage house stairs, she stopped and tilted her head to the side to take in the peek-a-boo view to the west. The Pacific Ocean below was illuminated by the moon, its angry waves pounding against the sand. Everything about this place was so different from the sunny locale where she’d grown up. Winter weather specifically was taking some getting used to.

She’d come to Candle Beach to find out who her family was, but every time she thought she was ready to find them, she lost her nerve. Whenever Angel had asked her mother about where she’d grown up, Erin Bennett had shut down. After she’d died last year, Angel had discovered the photo of her mother as a teenager standing in front of a white house, alongside a slightly younger girl and a couple she assumed was their parents. On the back, in her mother’s loopy handwriting, were the words Candle Beach, 1986.

However, the old photo was all Angel had to go on—she didn’t even know her mother’s maiden name. While her stepfather had been a nice man, he and her mom hadn’t had any more children and Angel had desperately wished for a brother or sister. Every time she’d seen kids playing with their siblings, she’d felt a pang of envy.

Work had been busy since she arrived in town and she’d allowed herself to believe she didn’t have time to find out anything about her mother. She was scared. Dreaming about them was one thing, but what if her grandparents were still alive and they didn’t want anything to do with her? Or worse yet, what if she had no family left in Candle Beach?

Her mother had never spoken of her parents, so they could be monsters for all she knew. Considering the lack of contact between her mother and them, they probably wanted nothing to do with their daughter and granddaughter. But was it better to find that out for certain than to wonder about them for the rest of her life?

She couldn’t keep thinking about it and doing nothing. Before unlocking the front door, she pivoted and hurried back down the steps toward her car. She knew if she stopped to think about it, she’d chicken out. Once inside the car, she gripped the top of the wheel and rested her head on her hands. Her need to find her family had risen to the top and she couldn’t suppress it any longer. Looking for the white house couldn’t wait for another day.

Why was she doing this? There was very little chance she could find the house in the dark. But she couldn’t live with herself if she lost another day when she could have searched for her family. The fear that had kept her back now ate away at her, increasing the emotional pressure until she couldn’t procrastinate any longer. Even if she found them and they were indeed monsters, at least she’d know.

She turned the key, and the engine of her sporty Honda roared to life. Carefully, she drove down the hill and made her way up and down some of the streets she’d identified as areas that contained houses of the same era as the one in the photo. The houses in these neighborhoods were older, but well taken care of, with well-manicured lawns, even in the dead of winter. It was possible that the family picture had been taken somewhere other than in front of their own home, but the house looked vaguely familiar to her, as if she had seen it herself as a child. Plus, it was the only lead she had.

One house on Elm Street resembled the house in the picture, so she stopped the car. Hugging her coat tightly to her body, she stepped out onto the sidewalk and stared at the house. It was so cold that her breath formed puffy clouds that dissipated like wisps of smoke into the night air.

From the glow of her headlights and the street lamp, she could see most of the exterior of the house, although the porch light was off. It was now painted yellow, but the windows and door were in the right place. It didn’t look exactly the same though. How could she find out if this was the right place? What was she supposed to do, knock on the door and ask if they knew her mother?

If she stayed here staring at their house, pretty soon the residents would think she was stalking them. She shook her head. The only thing she could do at this time was to guess about whether or not it was the house in the photo. Still, she wrote down the address and street name for later.

With her head hung low, she retreated to her car, taking one last look at the house through the passenger side window before she returned to her apartment. The lights were on in Gretchen’s house, and through the sheer drapes she could see two silhouettes dancing and laughing—most likely Gretchen and her boyfriend Parker. She wanted that—someone who loved her and made her feel safe. Having someone to dance with on a cold winter night seemed a far-off prospect at the moment.

Her heart ached as she entered the apartment and drew the drapes closed, ostensibly to keep out the cold, but it had the convenient effect of blocking the view of Gretchen’s house as well. Plopping down on the loveseat, she put her feet up on the coffee table and stared at the blank wall. If that had been the correct house, what was the next step? She knew very few people in town, but Maggie seemed like a logical person to ask. She’d lived in Candle Beach for most of her life and had connections around town. Angel resolved to ask her for advice the next day.

With that decided, she flipped on the TV, microwaved some dinner, and curled up with a blanket alone on the loveseat. If she was going to stay in Candle Beach much longer, she needed to get a pet. Her studio apartment wasn’t huge, but it felt awfully lonely living there by herself.