Cinnamon and Second Chances

Laura Elizabeth Salas

A month back in Honey Mesa, only two weeks in uniform, and already Officer Callie Navarro was answering a security alarm call to the one place she’d sworn never to return. 

“Ten-four.” She clicked off the radio, swung a U-turn, and headed for Main Street. Midnight pressed against the cruiser’s windows, a thin sliver of moon riding above the Texas hills. 

Five years she’d been gone, and tiny Honey Mesa looked exactly the same—the historic storefronts, a white church steeple, those sun-faded lampposts.

She’d told herself that leaving the town—leaving him—had been the right choice. Now here she was, about to walk into their old sanctuary, Blessings Bakery. The air squeezed out of her lungs, and it had nothing to do with the tight bulletproof vest she wore. 

After cutting the engine, Callie hopped out of her vehicle. The front glass door hung crooked. She pushed through, bracing for trouble. A faint aroma of sugar and yeast wrapped around her, stirring memories of long ago. Flour dust coated the floor, and trays lay scattered across the tiles. 

“Hello?” Callie’s hand rested on her holster. 

A groan came from behind the counter. 

She rushed forward—and stopped short. “Tanner?” 

Tanner Lawson, Honey Mesa’s golden boy and rodeo charmer, sat on the floor, blood on his temple. 

The man she’d run from. The one whose familiar olive eyes still set her heart racing. 

He blinked up at her. “Well, if I’d known you were coming back to town, I would’ve tidied up.” He pulled himself up. Winced. 

His irreverent humor hadn’t changed. Callie folded her arms, fighting the swirl of memories from this very space. Late-night conversations while they kneaded dough. Winks across the kitchen. Stolen kisses. 

Heat rushed to her cheeks. “What are you doing here?” 

Tanner shrugged. “I own Blessings Bakery now.” 

“Oh?” Her first solo case in Honey Mesa, and her crime scene was a minefield of reminders. Callie shoved the memories aside, inching toward him. “You okay?” She studied the gash on his face, and the sight of his blood made her chest constrict. “What happened?” She pulled a notepad and pen from her shirt pocket. 

“Masked woman wearing a gray baseball cap hit me from behind with—”

“Wait. Back up. How do you know she was a woman?” 

“Not many men wear sparkly sneakers.” His lips twitched into a half-smile. 

“Go on. What did she hit you with?” 

“A rolling pin,” he said, reaching for a roll of paper towels. 

Ouch. “What happened next?” 

“I played possum while she searched.”

“Any idea what she was looking for?”

“Not at first, but then I saw her leave through the back with the recipe book.”

Callie blinked. “The recipe book? Why go through all this for a recipe book?” She paced the kitchen, taking notes. 

When she returned her attention to Tanner, he was leaning against the counter, face pale, wiping his temple. She strode to him and examined the wound. “You’ll need stitches.” 

The words had barely left her mouth when footsteps raced past the front door.

“I thought you said she’d left,” Callie called over her shoulder as she bolted after the shadowy figure.

“Wait.” Tanner caught up with Callie. 

Outside, a red BMW tore down the road at a ridiculous speed. 

Callie jumped into the cruiser, and Tanner slid into the passenger seat. 

“You’re not riding along,” she snapped. 

“Too late.” He buckled up. “She’s already proven what she’s capable of.” He pointed at the bloodied paper towel he was still pressing on his wound. “I’d rather you didn’t face her alone.” 

Callie didn’t have time to argue. She hit the lights, gunned the engine, and called for backup, siren wailing them into the chase.

Six hours later, after one high-speed stop and a mountain of paperwork, the culprit sat behind bars, and the sky over Honey Mesa was turning gray. Lillian Pizano from Pecan Hollow, the next town over, had tried to steal Tanner’s award-winning cinnamon roll recipe—and had come back when she realized she’d left her baseball cap behind.

Somewhere between the arrest and the last form, the knot in Callie’s chest had loosened. Now, as promised, she walked into Blessings Bakery for breakfast on the house. “I’m dying to try the cinnamon rolls that caused so much trouble.” She made herself comfortable at a table beside the picture window overlooking the town. 

A laugh preceded Tanner as he stepped out from the kitchen, bandaged and freshly treated, balancing a platter of warm, sticky pastries and a mug of steaming coffee. The sweet aroma of rich cinnamon and sugar reached her nostrils as he set the dish in front of her. 

“Mmm.” Callie’s hand moved for it, but he intercepted her mid-air.

“Let’s bless the food.”

Callie’s eyebrow arched. Back when they dated, Tanner hadn’t believed in prayer. “Okay.”

Her stomach rumbled during his brief grace, and they both laughed. 

“Dig in.”

He didn’t have to tell Callie twice. After the first bite, she understood the thief’s desperation. 

As she broke off a piece of the second roll, she sensed his gaze on her. “What’s up?” 

He tipped his head. “Why did you leave?” 

She drained half of her coffee mug, wiped her lips with a napkin, and leaned forward. “Honestly? I was sure you’d get bored with me. You with your rodeos and adventures. Always chasing the next thing. I didn’t want to be hurt when that happened.” 

Tanner was quiet for a long moment, fingers tracing the indentations on the wooden table. “Callie, you were the only part of my life that made sense.” He took her hand. “That’s why I bought our place.”

Tears threatened to fall. It had never once occurred to her that she might have been enough to make him stay.

Tanner nodded toward the window. “Sun’s coming up.” 

Callie followed his gaze.

“You sticking around this time, Navarro?”

She met his eyes in the glass. “Yeah,” she whispered, “I’m home.”


Laura Elizabeth Salas
Laura Elizabeth Salas’ writing career began at a young age, when she would “re-write” the ending of many of her favorite stories, mostly in her mind, but occasionally also on paper. Born and raised in Venezuela, she shares aspects of her language and culture during the day as a Spanish teacher and at night as a writer. An inspirational author, Laura aims to craft clean stories that bring hope in today’s world.

Laura’s short novel, Trust Again, was a finalist for the Maggie Award in the pre‑published inspirational romance category. Her short stories have appeared in several publications, including Refresh Bible Study and the anthologies When Life Gives You Lemons, Romancing the Holidays Volume Two, and Romancing the Tropics.

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