Love Finds You in Hershey, Pennsylvania

Summerside Press™
Minneapolis 55438
www.summersidepress.com
Love Finds You in Hershey, Pennsylvania
© 2010 by Cerella D. Sechrist

ISBN 978-1-935416-64-7

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Scripture references are from The Holy Bible, New International Version
^®
, NIV
^®
. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide.

The town depicted in this book is a real place, but all characters are fictional. Any resemblances to actual people or events are purely coincidental.

Cover and interior design by Müllerhaus Publishing Group
www.mullerhaus.net
.

Back cover and interior photos of Hershey, Pennsylvania, by Chadd Caldwell,
www.caldwellphotodiary.aminus3.com
.

Summerside Press
™
is an inspirational publisher offering fresh, irresistible books to uplift the heart and engage the mind.

Printed in USA.

To my grandparents,
C. Orville and Irene Delbaugh,
for a lifetime of recipes, stories, and faith.

Because food (and a book) is always better when shared, I owe the following people gratitude and cookies:

To those who digested the manuscript, laughed at the right spots, and offered input: Carissa Sechrist, Chérie Sechrist, C. Orville and Irene Delbaugh, Elana Kopp, Janet Kahler, Donna Ferguson, and Nedra Lahr.

Enormous thanks to Chadd and Cheryl Caldwell, who helped finalize the menu by providing fun, friendship, food, and photos on one of my visits to Hershey.

To my mom and dad: Wayne and Chérie Sechrist; my brother and sister: Caleb Sechrist and Carissa Sechrist; and additional friends and family who served up encouragement, support, and prayers: you know who you are.

To Diana Flegal and Hartline Literary Agency: thanks for helping the cake to rise.

To Rachel Meisel, Jason Rovenstine, Connie Troyer, and the rest of Summerside Press: for taking a chance on an untried recipe and, of course, for the chocolate.

Finally, to my sister, Carissa: for telling me what I needed to hear, always just when I needed to hear it. It is no coincidence that our Ferguson family crest motto is
Dulcius ex Asperis
—“Sweeter after Difficulty.” You helped make the struggle more sweet than sour. I owe you truffles…and then some.

W
HEN
M
ILTON
H
ERSHEY ENVISIONED THE IDEAL
A
MERICAN
community, his thoughts turned to the sweetest of ingredients: chocolate. After all, what’s not to love about a town where every avenue beckons the palate with tantalizing street names such as Cocoa, Chocolate, and Reese? A simple drive down Hershey’s main thoroughfare teases visitors with the mouthwatering aroma of melting cacao as it wafts through the streets, and even streetlights bear the iconic silver shape of Hershey’s Kisses. It’s not all about the chocolate, however. The town is also home to the Hershey Gardens, ZooAmerica, the Antique Auto Museum, Giant Center Stadium, and the Hershey Theatre, plus museums, Chocolate World, Hersheypark, Hershey factory tours, the Hershey Hotel and Chocolate Spa, and of course, the infamous yellow-and-green trolleys. Nestled among farms and woodland, the town still manages to maintain an aura of idyllic nostalgia for days gone by as well as retain its small-town feel and community values. In Hershey, you may come for the chocolate, but you’ll leave feeling a sweet sense of fulfillment, richer for an experience in culture, family, and history.

Cerella D. Sechrist

He’d been coming into her restaurant for weeks now, flaunting his gorgeous black hair and icy blue eyes. She had learned that his heritage was Russian, which accounted for the roller-coaster pitch of his consonants and his sonorous name.

Dmitri Velichko.

He turned heads when he came through the front door. He melted hearts when he ordered from the menu. He was sharp, classy, and charming.

Dmitri Velichko was the enemy.

Sadie Spencer knew this well because she had learned, during her time at culinary school and her year as a cooking show host, exactly what comprised an enemy.

The sudden clatter of a pan in the kitchen arrested her attention, and she rushed from the main dining room to see what was the matter. As she flew into the kitchen, her conscience raised its hand, demanding attention.

What now?
she asked it.

The hand came down, but a voice piped up.
You didn’t know he was the enemy right away. You didn’t know until yesterday when you overheard Mrs. Smith and Mrs. Jones talking about him.

Sadie’s eyes narrowed to slits as she put her conscience on hold and surveyed the damage to her kitchen. Jimmy, a young man who had worked his way up from dishwasher and busboy and was now being trained as one of her line cooks, was hunched over and frantically scooping the remains of a rice pilaf back into the pan from the floor, where the dish had landed. She hurried over.

“What are you planning to do with
that
?” she demanded of him.

Jimmy swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing like her daughter Kylie’s attempts to submerge her rubber ducky in the bathtub. “Er… getting ready to plate it up?”

Sadie’s eyes widened with horror. “It’s been on the floor!”

Jimmy stared up at her with the mournful expression of a cocker spaniel. “It’s a clean floor,” he lamely noted.

Sadie closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead furiously with the tips of her fingers. She forced her shoulder muscles to relax and felt a tingling relief shoot up her neck.

“Throw it away,” she instructed. “Begin again. If you don’t have time, ask Karl to help you.”

Jimmy finished scooping the small grains back into the pan.

“You got it, boss.”