So, emotionally and physically drained, they had trudged back to the Jeep, Candy lugging the bulging tote bag heavy with files and papers.

“That was… fun,” Maggie said on the way home, sounding not at all convincing. “We really should do that again sometime-like maybe in a decade or two.”

Candy had been too tired to smile. “I think our burgling career started and ended tonight.”

“You are so right about that.”

Once back at Blueberry Acres, Candy had emptied the tote bag of files onto the kitchen table, sat wearily, and spent the next half hour or so paging through Herr Georg’s file, trying to decipher some of the ancient, faded German documents within. But when she nearly fell asleep at the table, she finally gave up and crawled into bed.

Now it seemed that, much sooner than she expected, she would have a chance to talk to Herr Georg about what she had found.

As she rose, showered, dressed, and headed down to the kitchen, her mind was already churning, trying to figure out how she was going to broach the subject with him.

Downstairs, Doc was drinking a cup of coffee at the kitchen table. Sapphire’s files were piled neatly on the table in front of him. Candy couldn’t remember leaving them like that. Her brow furrowed as she realized Doc must have been looking through them. By the look on his face she knew instantly that he disapproved.

In silence, Candy walked to the counter, dropped a slice of bread into the toaster, and poured a cup of coffee. She moved about silverware and saucers and glasses, trying to fill the uncomfortable quietness. All the while she kept her back to Doc, but she could feel his eyes on her. She had seen him in these moods before-though rarely-and she wasn’t quite sure what to expect.

But there was no way around it. She had to face him. She turned, holding the cup of coffee up toward her face with two hands. He was looking right at her.

He pointed with the subtlest of gestures toward the files on the table. “What have you been up to?”

For a moment she was a child again, a little girl being admonished by her stern father. Old feelings she hadn’t experienced in decades sprang into her heart and mind. But then she reminded herself that she was a woman in her thirties, responsible for her own decisions, and that she had made those decisions for a very good reason.

“Dad, I’m trying to save Ray.”

“And these will help?” Doc tilted his head toward the files.

“They might. I think so, yes.”

Doc didn’t ask where the files came from; he seemed to know that answer-or if he didn’t, he didn’t seem to care. It was obvious that his concern was for Candy, and for her alone. With a foot he reached under the table and kicked back one of the chairs. “Have a seat.”

Candy looked at him suspiciously. “Okaaay.”

“I just want to talk for a few minutes,” Doc said as she sat down.

Candy placed the coffee cup on the table before her. “About what?”

“About you.”

“Me? What about me?”

“To be honest… I’m worried about you,” Doc said.

The toast popped up then, and Candy jumped up to place it on a plate and butter it. “Why are you worried about me?” she asked over her shoulder as she worked.

Doc sighed and waited until she had settled herself again, then leaned forward and folded his hands on the table in front of him. “Are you happy?”

Candy had taken a bite of the toast but stopped chewing at the question. “Am I happy?” she repeated with her mouth full, looking just a bit unglamorous.

“This whole thing with Sapphire and Ray, and the way you’ve become so… involved in it. It’s got me to thinking.”

Candy started chewing again, and this time swallowed before she spoke. “Dad, what’s on your mind?” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “I have to leave soon. Herr Georg needs me to work in the shop.”

Doc nodded in acknowledgment, then got quickly to the point. “I’ve been watching you all week, and I realized that I haven’t seen you this dedicated to anything in a long time, not since you’ve moved up here-except for those damned chickens of yours. And it’s got me to thinking. Maybe you’re so involved with this Ray thing because you, well, because you haven’t had much direction in your life recently.”

Candy rolled her eyes. “Dad…”

Doc held up a hand. “Now hear me out. This is something I’ve got to say.” He took a deep breath, then continued. “When you were a little girl, you didn’t seem to know what you wanted to do when you grew up. Other little girls wanted to be teachers or doctors or lawyers or movie stars, but you had a hard time figuring it all out. Your mother and I were worried a bit about you then, but we knew eventually you’d find your way. And you did in college. You discovered a career, and then you met Clark, and for a while your life seemed to be on a fast track.”

“You’re right about that,” Candy said, finishing up the last few bites of toast and wiping her hands with a paper napkin as she glanced at the clock again.

Doc knew his time was running out, but he refused to be hurried. “And then life took some hard turns, for both you and me. I want you to know,” he said, reaching across the table to rest his hand on one of hers, “that having you move in here with me was one of the best things to happen to me in a long time. I’ve loved having you around again. But I can’t help wondering…” He paused, hesitant to go on, then said finally, “Well, I can’t help wondering if you’re here more for me than for yourself.”

Candy started to protest, but Doc went on, quickly now. “You need more in your life than just me, sweetie. But it’s more than that,” he said before she could get anything out. “I have to ask-or I think you have to ask-what do you want to do with your life?”

Candy almost laughed, though she held back because she knew her father was serious. She thought a moment, then rose, placed her coffee cup in the sink, and returned to the table. She kissed her father on the forehead and held up his chin as she looked into his eyes. “Dad, I think it’s really sweet you’re concerned about my life, but don’t worry so much. I’m just fine.”

Doc smiled up at her. “I just want you to be happy, pumpkin.”

“I know. Me too.” Candy kissed him again, then grabbed her purse and a manila envelope from the table by the back door. “I hate to run, but Herr Georg’s waiting for me. We’ll talk later, okay?”

“Okay.” After a brief pause he added, “Just take care of yourself.”

“I will.” And with that she was out the door. She jumped into the Jeep, headed down the dirt road toward town, and a few minutes before nine, she walked into the Black Forest Bakery on Main Street.

Herr Georg was in the back kitchen, wearing a long white apron and a chef’s hat, his hands covered with flour. When he saw her, a wide smile broke out on his face beneath the curling white moustache.

“Ahh, Candy, there you are, just in time,” he greeted her as she dropped her purse and the manila envelope onto a cane chair in a corner.

She said hello, and as she grabbed an apron and tied it about her waist, she added hesitantly, “I have something I need to talk to you about when we have a break.”

“Yes, yes, of course. We’ll have some time later. Have you had breakfast?”

“Just a cup of coffee and a piece of toast.”

He clucked at her with his tongue. “Candy, Candy, that is not enough for you! You are a grown woman! You dash about here and there! You need something to help you keep your energy level up. Here, try one of these. I just took them from the oven.” He handed her a raspberry cheese croissant oozing warm filling and giving off that luscious, just-baked smell, so powerful and redolent it almost made her dizzy.

Light, flaky, and golden brown, it practically melted in her mouth. “Hmm, hmm, hmm. It’s a good thing I don’t work here regularly,” she told him as she licked her lips and savored each bite, “or I wouldn’t be able to fit through your shop’s front door, that’s for sure. Besides, I’d probably eat through all your profits!”