“Moishe!” Hannah could scarcely believe her eyes. “How did you ever manage to . . . ?” but she didn’t finish her question as a logical explanation of this strange phenomenon suddenly occurred to her. Michelle must have come in to ride the treadmill this morning while Hannah was sound asleep. And when she was through, Michelle had forgotten to shut off the exercise machine.

The lure of hot coffee and Blue Apple Muffins, whatever they turned out to be, was too strong to deny. Hannah thrust her feet into her slippers, got up out of bed, and shut off the machine. “Come on, fitness fanatic,” she said to Moishe. “It’s time for both of us to have breakfast and then I have to get to work.”

Hannah mixed up yet another batch of cookies and tried not to listen to Lisa’s new story. Michelle must have told her Hannah’s account of their encounter with Starlet because Lisa was telling the story to a packed house. It was great for business, Hannah would be the first to admit that, but it was also a bit embarrassing. Thank goodness Delores was busy at the hospital and hadn’t popped in to have coffee with her!

“I just knew he was a pimp!” It was Grandma Knudson. Hannah recognized her voice. “Just wait until I tell my friend Nola that I was right! I’ll make her eat fricasseed crow!”

There was a roar of laughter from the crowd and even Hannah had to smile as she measured out the cocoa for another batch of Triple Chocolate Cookies.

She’d just added the melted chocolate and butter to her dough when the phone rang and she hurried to answer it. “This is The Cookie Jar, Hannah speaking,” she greeted the caller.

“I’m glad I caught you, Hannah.”

It was Winnie Henderson’s voice and Hannah knew it wouldn’t be a long conversation. Winnie was always blunt and she didn’t waste time on chatter. “Hi, Winnie,” she said. “Do you have another grandson’s birthday?”

“Nope. It came to me last night, Hannah.”

“What’s that, Winnie?”

“Where I’d seen that man in the picture before. Turns out I saw him right here on the ranch. He worked for me.”

“He did?”

“You bet your boots, he did. I never forget a face. Nowadays it takes me longer to remember, but I never forget.”

“I wish I could say that,” Hannah told her. “When did the man work for you?”

“It’s got to be ten or more years ago. He didn’t last long. Less than two weeks the way I remember it. I had to fire him.”

“Do you remember why?”

“I sure do. He was lazy and shiftless. Jimmy, the other ranch hand I hired that summer, couldn’t stand him. Said the new guy was trouble with a capital T. His name was Keith-something-or-other. I don’t remember his last name off-hand.”

“Keith Branson?”