Page 1 of Christmas Treasures

1

MAX

Every year it was the same. Christmas erupted in Sugarville Grove the day after Thanksgiving like the opening of Pandora’s box. Garlands of evergreen wrapped around lampposts, wreaths trimmed with pine cones and tartan ribbon hung on shop doors, and lights blinked from every corner of downtown. Some shops added their own flair—the Clever Fox Books with tiny brass bells, the bakery with a wreath shaped like a frosted doughnut. Even Ford’s Animal Hospital got festive. Max smiled as he passed its window, which featured a cartoonish tabby tangled in ribbon beside a hand-painted sign: “Pawsitively Festive!”

He passed by Clever Fox Books and spotted his sister-in-law Laney working on the window display. She straightened, hand on her pregnant belly, and waved. He returned the gesture and continued down the street.

He pulled his knit cap down over his ears, the cold nipping at his nose. Since returning from his wandering season, Max had grown to love this time of year. Sugarville Grove might be small, but it knew how to do the holidaysright. The time away had given him a deeper appreciation for this place—the town that had raised him, the family that had shaped him. Four brothers. One saint of a mother. And a lovable father who’d passed down the Hayes maple syrup legacy.

Luke had stayed and now ran the farm, but the rest of them had scattered, carving their own paths. Max’s was the most unconventional, though he’d finally settled—sort of. His country store sat just outside town, stocked with everything from handcrafted soap to wine to locally smoked meats. Though it was tough to get away from the store, he’d managed to sneak into town for lunch with his brothers at Sugarville Slice.

As he neared the pizzeria, the contrast hit him as it had many times before. Sugarville Slice was the lone shop downtown without a speck of holiday cheer. No wreath. No twinkle lights. Just a clean, minimalist window displaying a chalkboard menu. It wasn’t uninviting, exactly. But it stood out. Especially here.

Still, the scents of wood fire, garlic, rosemary, and tomato sauce made up for the lack of sparkle. Charlie Keene might not hang mistletoe, but she and her staff knew how to make a stellar slice. Before she arrived, they’d had to drive twenty minutes for mediocre pizza. Now he was pretty sure they had the best in Vermont.

He spotted his brothers at their usual table in the back. The four brothers were tight, but they were also quite different from one another, evident in their attire. Luke, who ran their family’s maple syrup farm, wore a flannel shirt, jeans, and boots. Nolan donned a soft cashmere sweater and neatly pressed khakis, having come from the college where he taught literature. Logan looked like the lawyer he was in a tailored button-down and slacks, his blazer slung over the back of his chair.

As he passed by the open kitchen, he caught sight of Charlie Keene sliding a pizza out of the oven with a practiced flick of her wooden peel. Whatever her story, she was easy on the eyes, despite her obvious dislike of Christmas decorations. He was also fairly certain she didn’t care for him. At the food drive meeting his mother had organized last week, they’d had a little disagreement over the best way to gather donations. He’d suggested some of the businesses, including his own, mind you, offer a coupon to anyone who brought canned goods into their store or restaurant. She’d said people should simply donate because it was the right thing to do, not because of some incentive. He’d made the mistake of saying, in a teasing way, that she must not know much about human nature.

That had not gone over well.

He plopped into a chair. His brothers greeted him in the usual way, with more grunts than actual words.

“You’re late,” Luke said, in his oldest-brother know-it-all tone.

“Sorry. Vendor issue,” Max said.

Logan sighed, setting down his phone. “This latest client’s going to drive me into early retirement.”

“A divorce or estate planning?” Nolan asked .

“Divorce. Representing the wife. Every time I give her advice, she does the opposite.” Logan slid a menu in Max’s direction.

He took hold of it, excited to see that there was a new special pizza and spotted it immediately: Ash & Ember – Winter Signature Pie.

The description made his mouth water: Bramblewood Ash cheese, fire-roasted squash, caramelized leeks on sourdough crust, finished with toasted walnuts, rosemary, and cranberry port reduction. “I’m getting the special,” Max said.

Nolan gestured toward Max. “Is Santa all set up out at the store?”

“Yep, as of today, Santa’s village is officially open,” Max said. “It’s good for business. Kids see Santa, parents buy wine. It’s a win-win. But it makes the place kind of a zoo.”

Charlie walked over, apron tied neatly at her waist, hair pulled back in a practical twist. Her dark eyes never revealed much or lingered long, as if she was always holding something back. There was something sad about the beautiful woman who never smiled. He wondered what it was that had made her that way. He’d probably never know. Regardless, his heart went out to her. He’d been through his share of heartbreak, so he understood what it was like to keep it together when you’d rather curl up in a ball.

If only he could gain the courage to ask her out. Every time he was here, he thought about it. By the end of the meal, he’d always talked himself out of it.

“Hey, guys,” Charlie said, pen and pad in hand. “What can I get you?”

Luke ordered the Lumberjack; Nolan chose the Maple BBQ Chicken; Logan, the Winter Warmer.

Charlie’s eyes landed on Max. “And for you?”

He cleared his throat, ignoring the flip-flop in his stomach. She really had the most exquisite face—high cheekbones and a mouth that looked made for kissing. And those brown eyes that could surely melt any man’s heart should she choose to use them. “Ash and Ember, please. I love Bramblewood Ash cheese. It’s to die for.” Why did he say that? He sounded like an idiot.

“They’re talented cheesemakers.” Charlie’s expression softened slightly. “I can only get it once a year because of their lack of inventory.”

He knew that was true. He’d had to grovel for a chunk to sell at his store. Setting an alarm for 6:00 a.m. just toorder cheese seemed absurd. But it was really good cheese, and his customers loved it. He’d be sold out of it within a week.

“How’s business?” Luke asked.

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