Funny how quickly she was settling into a routine with her parents, she thought, walking toward the center of town. While she didn’t want to make the living arrangements permanent, she was glad she’d agreed to return for the holidays.

She greeted people they passed. Most steered clear of the giant dog, which was fine with Belle. She was afraid of strangers. And squirrels, vacuums, aerosols, firetrucks and, of course, Burt.

So far there was an uneasy canine truce. Burt had only gone after Belle twice, and she was almost relaxed as she walked through the house. Reggie suspected the little dachshund was lying in wait, ready to attack when least expected.

She inhaled the cold, crisp air. The skies were still gloriously blue—not a cloud to be seen. The Thanksgiving decorations stood proudly at nearly every house—not a snowman or a hint of Christmas anywhere.

“This is a weird little town,” Reggie murmured. Belle seemed to nod in agreement.

They reached The Wreath and began to walk the outside circle, a path in front of all the stores. Snowdrops Florist had beautiful harvest arrangements in the window. The Nothing-To-Do-With-Christmas store had a lovely display of beach-themed gift items. They passed Joy’s Diner, Jingle Coffee, Poorman Bank and Yule Read Books, her steps slowing with every store until Belle finally turned and looked at her.

“I know,” Reggie whispered. “I can’t help it. I’m scared.”

An emotion Belle could get behind. Still, the Great Dane tugged on the leash as if saying she had to get over it.

“Like you do that.”

But standing in The Wreath with her dog staring at her wasn’t a good look. She sucked in a breath for courage, then started walking again, right up to Judy’s Hand Pies.

She paused in front of the store. There were dozens of pies on display in the window, some sweet, some savory. The smell of freshly baked pies had her mouth watering and Belle nudging at the door.

“We can’t,” Reggie told her. “No dogs allowed.”

Belle’s head dropped.

Reggie studied the store, with its bright awning and inviting window display. She knew a little about the company—she’d read a couple of articles once she’d learned Toby was the owner. He’d started selling hand pies out of the back of his truck and had graduated to food trucks and then stores.

She remembered when his grandmother would sell the pies in town. Having them for dinner had always been a treat at Reggie’s house.

The front door pushed open, and Shaye waved at her. “Hi. Good to see you again.”

“Hi, Shaye. It’s my first time by the store. If the visual doesn’t draw you in, the smells will.”

Shaye laughed. “That’s what we’re counting on.” She shivered. “It’s freezing. Come on inside.”

Reggie motioned to Belle. “Thanks, but I can’t leave her out here.”