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Layla grabbed her coat and her tote with her notebook, and her camera, and headed back downstairs. The smell of those gingerbread cookies was even more tempting now, but her stomach was demanding real food. Christopher was nowhere to be seen as she passed through the entry hall and let herself out the front door.

The cold air was a shock after the warmth of the inn, but Layla welcomed it. It felt clarifying, sharpening her focus. She pulled her coat tighter around herself and headed back toward Main Street, ready to see what Fir Tree Grove really had to offer beyond its over-the-top Christmas displays.

Even if it turned out to be nothing more than a quaint small town trading on holiday nostalgia, she’d write a good article about it. That’s what professionals did.

And then she’d go home.

CHAPTER FOUR

The afternoon light streaming through the front windows of Artisan Chocolates gave everything a warm, golden glow that Imogen Blackwell normally loved. Today, however, even that couldn’t quite dispel the vague queasiness that had been plaguing her since she’d woken up that morning.

She stood behind the counter, carefully arranging a fresh batch of chocolate truffles in the display case—cranberry orange, dark chocolate mint, and her newest creation, brown butter sage. She did it without having to think very much, which was both a blessing and a curse. Usually, the fact that this was all second nature by now meant she could focus on other things while she restocked the shop, but right now it just meant that she couldn’t ignore the nausea that was making her wish she could sit down and have a cup of peppermint tea.

The shop had been busy today, which was both good and a challenge given how she was feeling. It was the height of the Christmas season in Fir Tree Grove, which meant a steady stream of locals stopping by for gifts and treats, mixed with tourists who’d come specifically to experience the town’s famous holiday celebrations. Normally, Imogen thrived on days like this—the energy of happy customers, the joy of sharing her creations, the festive atmosphere that filled every corner of her shop.

It had been a great day, with plenty of sales and customers oohing and aahing over her more quirky flavors as well as the usual fare. She was energized as always by all of the happy neighbors and tourists that had come through, but she was having to work a bit harder to maintain her usual enthusiasm.

The bell above the door chimed as Mrs. Wilson, who did seasonal work at the bookshop, Cheerful Chapters, bustled in with her cheeks pink from the cold. “Imogen, dear! I need two boxes of your chocolate-covered cherries. My sister is coming for Christmas and they’re her absolute favorite.”

Imogen smiled at the familiar face. “Of course, Mrs. Wilson. I’ll box them up for you right now.”

She moved to the back counter where the chocolate-covered cherries were kept, trying to ignore the way her stomach lurched slightly as she bent down. What was wrong with her? She’d felt fine yesterday. Well, mostly fine. Maybe a little tired, but that was normal for this time of year when the shop was so busy.

“Are you feeling all right?” Mrs. Wilson asked, peering at her with concern. “You look a bit pale.”

“I’m fine,” Imogen assured her, straightening up with two elegant boxes tied with burgundy ribbon. “Just been a busy day.”

Mrs. Wilson didn’t look entirely convinced, but she accepted the boxes with a smile. “Well, don’t work too hard. Our business owners need to take care of themselves.”

As Mrs. Wilson left, Imogen took a moment to lean against the counter, pressing her hand to her stomach. The queasiness was persistent but not severe—more annoying than anything else. She’d skipped her usual morning coffee because the thought of it had made her feel worse, which was unusual. She loved her morning coffee. Especially this time of year. Peppermint mocha had been one of her favorite flavors since she was a child.

The bell chimed again, and Imogen straightened up immediately, her professional smile back in place. But this time it was a face that made her smile genuinely widen.

“Mommy!”

Katie, her eleven-year-old daughter, came running into the shop, her dark curls bouncing beneath a pink knit hat with a pompom on top. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold, and her eyes sparkled with the kind of energy that only someone her age could muster. She was wearing her favorite winter coat—the purple one with the fake fur trim that she’d insisted on when they went shopping back in October—and she practically vibrated with excitement.

Imogen came around the counter to greet her daughter, bending down to Katie’s level despite the way it made her stomach protest slightly. “Hi, sweetheart. How was school?”

“It was so good!” Katie said, her words tumbling out in a rush. “We made ornaments in art class and Mrs. Jones said mine was one of the best and we’re going to hang them in the hallway and guess what? It’s almost Christmas vacation!”

“It is,” Imogen agreed, tucking a stray curl behind Katie’s ear. “That’s very exciting.”

Katie’s expression shifted then, her eyebrows drawing together with concern. “Are you still feeling yucky?”

Imogen’s heart squeezed. She must have mentioned something this morning, although she couldn’t quite remember what. Katie was perceptive, always had been, even when Imogen tried to hide things. “I’m feeling much better,” she said, keeping her voice light and reassuring. She didn’t want to dim her daughter’s joy with worries about a little stomach upset. “Nothing to worry about, I promise.”

Katie’s face brightened immediately, her concern evaporating as quickly as it had appeared. “Good! Because that means we can still go skating at Lincoln’s rink, right? He promised we could go today and he said he’d teach me how to skate backward and I really, really want to learn!”

Imogen felt her heart warm despite the queasiness in her stomach. Watching the relationship between Katie and Lincoln deepen over the past two years had been one of the greatest gifts of her life. Lincoln Blackwell had been her high school sweetheart before their lives had taken different paths, and when he’d come back to Fir Tree Grove, she hadn’t expected it to become anything more. But thanks to some Christmas magic and some meddling on their friends’ part, the two of them had finally admitted that there was still a spark between them, all of these years later.

Lincoln had always adored Katie, even when he and Imogen were still just friends after his return. But after he and Imogen had started dating, and since they’d been engaged last year especially, it was more clear than ever that he’d fallen in love not just with Imogen but with Katie too. The bond between them was so natural, so genuine, that sometimes Imogen forgot they weren’t biologically father and daughter. Lincoln treated Katie like she was his own, and Katie adored him in return. It made Imogen happy beyond words to know that the man who had brought love and romance back into her life had also filled the gaps in Katie’s, and that she had more now than she could ever have hoped for when it came to her family.

“I have quite a bit of work to do here,” Imogen said, glancing around the shop at the various tasks that still needed completing. There were orders to fill, inventory to check, and she’d been meaning to make another batch of the peppermint bark that kept selling out. “But I’m absolutely glad for you to go skating with Lincoln. You two have fun.”

“Yay!” Katie bounced on her toes. “When is he coming?”

As if on cue, the bell above the door chimed again, and Lincoln Blackwell walked into the shop.