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TIP: Many large supermarkets or health food stores allow you to buy beans out of bins, so you only need to purchase the amount you need.

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Cream Scones with Dried Figs and Cherries

Making these in the food processor means the dough comes together in minutes. These are not very sweet—feel free to increase the sugar if desired.

Makes 8

2 cups all-purpose flour

¼ cup granulated sugar, plus additional for sprinkling

1 tablespoon baking powder

½ teaspoon salt

12 tablespoons (1½ sticks) unsalted butter, cut into chunks

2 large eggs

½ cup heavy cream

¾ cup dried cherries or cranberries

½ cup dried figs, chopped

1 egg, beaten with 1 tablespoon cream, for wash

Preheat oven to 375°F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

In a food processor, pulse flour, sugar, baking powder and salt until combined. Add butter chunks; pulse until mixture resembles fine crumbs. In a glass measuring cup, whisk eggs and cream until well blended; add to batter and pulse until just combined. Pulse in dried cherries and figs.

Scrape dough out onto a lightly floured surface. Knead dough just enough to assure ingredients are combined. Using floured hands, shape dough into a ¾-inch-thick round. Using a sharp knife, cut round into 8 wedges. Transfer to prepared baking sheet. Brush scones with egg wash; sprinkle with sugar.

Bake for 20 to 25 minutes, until golden and firm to the touch. Transfer to a wire rack to cool.

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TIP: For all quick breads, for a moist and tender crumb, take care to stir the batter until just blended.

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CAN THIS BE CHRISTMAS?

Chapter 1

I’ll Be Home for Christmas

A robust version of “Little Drummer Boy” played in the background as Len Dawber glanced at his watch—for at least the tenth time in five minutes. He looked around the depot impatiently, hardly noticing the Christmas decorations on the windows and walls—the cardboard Santa’s sleigh, the drooping garland and blinking lights.

Len was waiting with a herd of other holiday travelers to board the train that would take him to Boston. The snowstorm that had started the previous evening meant his early-morning flight out of Bangor, Maine, had been canceled and the airport closed. Although the airlines couldn’t be blamed for the weather, they’d done everything possible to arrange transportation out of Maine. Len suspected more than a few strings had been pulled to get seats on the already full midmorning train. Maybe some of the original passengers canceled, he thought with faint hope.

Because, unfortunately, that crowded train was his only chance of making it to Boston in time to connect with his flight home for Christmas.

Len got to his feet, relinquishing his place on the hard station bench to a tired-looking man. He walked quickly to the door and stepped outside. He lifted his gaze toward the sky. Huge flakes of snow swirled in the wind, obscuring his view. His shoulder muscles tensed with frustration until he could no longer remain still. This was exactly what he’d feared would happen when he’d awakened that morning. Even then the clouds had been dark and ominous, threatening his plans and his dreams of a reunion with Amy.

Despite the snow that stung his eyes and dampened his hair, Len began to pace back and forth along the platform, peering down the tracks every few seconds. No train yet. Damn it! Stuck in New England on Christmas Eve.

This was supposed to be the season of joy, but there was little evidence of that in the faces around him. Most people were burdened with luggage and armfuls of Christmas packages. Some of the gift wrap was torn, the bows limp and tattered. The children, sensing their parents’ anxiety, were cranky and restless. The younger ones whined and clung to their mothers.

Worry weighed on Len’s heart. He had to catch the Boston flight, otherwise he wouldn’t make it home to Rawhide, Texas, today. He’d miss his date with Amy and the family’s Christmas Eve celebration. Part of his precious leave would be squandered