“I should have told you why I left.”

She smiled. “I should have listened when you wanted to explain.”

They looked at each other. Reggie felt some shift in the energy between them, but didn’t know what that meant. Nor was she going to pursue the topic.

“You were a good boyfriend,” she said with a smile. “I’m guessing that’s still true, so why didn’t you bring a wife back to Wishing Tree?”

She’d thought he would give her a funny response, but instead his face went blank and he turned away.

“I’m not getting married anytime soon.”

There was something in his voice, a finality along with a hint at dark secrets she knew she couldn’t ask about.

As quickly as his mood changed, it shifted back again to easygoing Toby.

“What about you? It’s been over a year since you and Jake broke up. There must be a guy in your life.”

“One would think,” she said lightly. “But one would be wrong.” She shrugged. “It took me a while to get over him, and since then, I’ve gone out some, but just casually. So far I haven’t met anyone relationship-worthy.”

A statement that seemed designed to make things awkward, she thought, setting down her wineglass and coming to her feet.

“This has been fun,” she said. “But I need to get Belle and head home. She gets really cranky if she doesn’t get enough sleep.”

For a second she thought Toby was going to call her on her bolt for freedom, but he only nodded and rose.

“A cranky Great Dane can’t be fun. Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

Fifteen minutes later, as she drove home, Reggie told herself she’d made the smart decision. Lingering would only have led to—well, she wasn’t sure what, but something complicated. She and Toby had a past, but that was no reason to assume they had a future. Better to keep things casual and friendly. Or maybe just safer.

Micah figured he’d clocked about ten miles since he’d left the B and B. He was still frustrated by his inability to write, so he’d decided to walk until he had something close to a creative thought.

He’d walked through several residential sections of town before heading west to Gray Wolf Lake. Then he’d gone south, bundled up against the freezing temperatures.

All the houses he passed were decorated for the holidays. Santas and reindeer dotted lawns, and wreaths hung in windows. About an hour into his journey, he realized there weren’t any snowmen anywhere. Obviously not real ones, what with there being no snow, but also no plastic or ceramic ones. Now that he thought about it, Dena hadn’t used snowmen in her decorating at the B and B. Was it a town thing? Some tradition he didn’t know about? He would have to ask her.