Page 3 of Christmas Treasures

The first time he’d walked back into this store after his years of traveling, he’d been at the lowest point of his life. He’d returned from Italy, heartbroken and aimless. While there, he’d fallen in love with a beautiful Italian woman and her little daughter. Sadly, Lucia had died. Bianca, only five, had gone to live with her grandmother, Rosella. Losing Lucia had shaken him deeply, and the idea of wandering the globe suddenly felt hollow, empty. He’d come home not knowing what would come next, only that Sugarville Grove seemed the safest place to figure it out.

He’d stayed with his parents upon his return, debating a direction in which to center his life. It was during a trip to the store for his mother, lingering by shelves he’d once stocked as a teenager, that the original owners, Jim and Maggie Winters, had quietly asked him into the back room. They were ready to retire, and they remembered the energetic teenager who’d once charmed customers and meticulously arranged displays. Would he be interested in buying them out?

He hadn’t hesitated. It felt exactly right. Not only would he run a store he felt passionate about; the building came with an apartment above the shop. He would have a career and a place to live. With Logan’s legal assistance and a bank loan secured through Logan’s contacts, the transition had been surprisingly smooth. Max kept the Winterses’ original concept of a cozy, gourmet country store, but graduallymade it his own—adding carefully curated wines from around the world, imported chocolates, specialty meats, and handpicked artisan goods.

His gamble had paid off. The community had embraced the store’s evolution. It felt good, being back home. Settled.

He parked around back, delighted to see Santa’s village up and ready to go. Every December, the grassy area beside the store was transformed into a Christmas wonderland. Even though snow had yet to dust the ground, the spirit of the holidays was alive and sparkling. Santa’s workshop, housed inside a cozy red-and-green cabin adorned with colorful Christmas lights, stood cheerfully at the center. An oversize cushioned red armchair trimmed in gold awaited the local postman, Kris Olaffson, who would begin his stint as Santa tomorrow. Today it was quiet, but he had a feeling tomorrow the crowds of children would arrive, eager to tell their wishes to Santa. Not only did he have Kris playing the part of Santa, but members of the high school drama club, dressed as elves in bright red-and-green costumes, would help to manage the crowd and pass out candy canes. The town ate it up. So did Max, for that matter.

As his brothers often said. He was a kid at heart.

Molly Brooks, his part-time employee, looked up with a friendly, adoring smile as he walked through the door. She was twenty years old and as cheerful as a string of holiday lights. With strawberry-blond hair often pulled back in a messy ponytail and bright blue eyes, Molly radiated the kind of wholesome, small-town sweetness that charmed locals and tourists alike. She’d worked part-time at Max’s store since graduating from high school, always bubbling with enthusiasm, whether organizing shelves, helping customers, or shyly presenting Max with the latest batch of cookies she’d baked in her mother’s kitchen. Max thought of her as a kid sister, but Laney had assured him that Molly had a deepcrush on her boss. Although flattering, he was careful never to give her any reason to think her feelings were reciprocated. He was sure she’d meet someone age-appropriate before long.

“Miss Brooks, how are things?” Max asked, struggling out of his coat.

“We had a little rush right after you left, but nothing I couldn’t handle. I’m learning a lot about wine in my class at college, and it’s coming in quite handy.”

Molly was studying hospitality at the same university where Nolan taught literature. She’d told him that working at the store had been part of the reason she wanted to study food, wine, and service. Although she was still young, Max had a feeling she might do something extraordinary. For one thing, he’d never tasted a better chocolate chunk cookie. However, he would never tell his mother that. That could get him kicked out of the family.

“I was thinking about something.” Molly untied her apron, readying to take her break. “Do you think I could sell some of my cookies here at the store during the holidays? I could really use the extra money for Christmas gifts.”

He smiled, nodding with approval. “Now there’s my little entrepreneur.”

“I put a proposal together for you. One of my professors helped me.”

“Excellent. Leave it in my office, and I’ll take a look. I see no reason why we can’t make some cookie magic together.”

“Max, really?” Molly grinned and bounced on her toes. “I’m so excited.”

“As long as you bring a few of those chocolate chunk ones in for me, we’re in business.”

She thanked him again and then left to take her lunch in the back office.

He put on one of the aprons with his store logo on thefront and made himself an espresso from the machine he’d procured from Italy. At first, folks were suspicious of the fancy coffee, but now he had a line out the door in the mornings.

He was barely behind the counter when his sister-in-law Laney walked in, a cheerful jingle of the bell signaling her arrival. Nolan’s wife was visibly pregnant, her belly rounded beneath a soft sweater.

“Laney Hayes.” He leaned against the counter. “To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”

“Desperation, Max.” Laney’s eyes sparkled. “I’m hosting a holiday party for Nolan’s work colleagues and some of my friends from the bookstore, plus family, and I’ve realized I’m in way over my head. I don’t know anything about this kind of thing. I need wine and cheese recommendations and whatever else you’ve got. Like what you did at your sweater party–turned–my wedding last year. That was amazing.”

“You’ve come to the right place. Let’s start with wine.” He guided her over to his wine section. “Let’s see what we can find.”

“Nolan said some of his friends are real wine snobs, so I don’t want to mess up.”

“Not to worry.” He selected a sleek bottle from the rack, holding it out for inspection. “Pinot noir from Oregon’s Willamette Valley. Elegant, subtle cherry notes, and spice.”

She took the bottle, running a hand over the elegant script on the label. “I’ll take your word for it since I can’t drink for another few months. Also, do you have a red with a bit more heft? Your dad’s bringing his famous brisket, so I need something that will hold up against the meat.”

“You can’t go wrong with a cabernet sauvignon from Washington State. Red Mountain grapes never let me down.” He looked quickly at the rows of Washington wine, choosing a medium-priced bottle that he thought was as good as someof the more expensive ones. “Rich, bold, velvety—great with heartier fare. Impressive but accessible.”

Laney smiled, hugging the wine to her chest. “You’re a lifesaver. I’ll need a half case of both and six of that chardonnay you brought last time you were over. Oh, and you’re coming, right? Nolan said he invited you. Please don’t say no. I need at least one person who knows how to talk to other people. Nolan’s the chattiest one of his colleagues, if you can believe it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Max assured her. “Someone has to wear the lampshade.”

Laney laughed again. “You’ve never worn a lampshade, but you are the life of the party. You and your dad.”

“I’ll be on my best behavior.”

---