Page 8 of The Christmas Blueprint

“I think decaf is a myth.”

“Herbal tea?”

“Not opening the wine for your mother.” Lorena harumphed, and her dark gaze swept the store.

Searching for patience, Sophia looked up at the vineyard-style chandelier that Riley had made for her store opening. It had taken her months to finally convince Riley to let her carry some of her “blow off some steam” creations. Riley had made many more of the vine root pendant lights and chandeliers, but this one had been customized for Lost and Found Objects, and made her feel cherished.

The light felt sacred now, as it had, in Sophia’s opinion, kicked off the romance between Riley and Zhang last Christmas. She’d never seen Riley happier even though her family, once so close, seemed scattered in the wind. Not one of her brothers had yet moved back to Bear Creek, and now her dad and stepmom as well as her aunt and uncle had left town.

A police SUV cruised by slowly. “See, Bear Creek’s finest are always close,” Sophia said to her mother.

“Not like they have anything else to do.”

Sophia bit back a laugh at her mother’s quick contradiction. “The force is small but mighty. Growl makes sure of that.”

“Show some respect, Sophia,” her mother said, beginning to wander the store—shopping or ready to get to the point of her visit? “Raoul would have been your brother-in-law. He is watching out for you, as he should.”

The SUV stopped two stores down. Of course it did. Sophia sighed. She’d lit into Raoul after his third day stopping in front of her store. She said he blocked her curb appeal and that it looked suspicious that he stopped every day to check on her. He’d apologized and now parked two stores down—apparently Stephanie, who owned Accessories & Me, didn’t want to sass the chief of police. Or she enjoyed the eye candy Raoul presented. He was too stern, too unsmiling, too traditional, but he did listen and only stopped every other day now.

Small victories. Sophia turned on her Keurig. The overly conscientious and protective almost brother-in-law was the reason she’d bought the Keurig.

Raoul Reyes agilely popped out of his cruiser and strode inside. He stopped short at seeing Sophia’s mother in the shop. She smiled brightly at him.

“Good evening, Chief,” Lorena gushed. “I’m surprised you’re out pulling deputy duty.”

“Like to keep a hand in, ma’am,” he said, and Sophia felt that if Raoul Reyes, Enrique’s oldest brother, had had a Stetson like the state troopers or his cowboy cousins wore, he would have tipped it. “Plus my brothers are doing something late at the winery that needed more hands, and Mateo likes working crush on the ice wines more than I do so I took his shift.”

“It’s lovely how you all support each other.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Lorena didn’t bat an eye. Probably because as a newly retired drama and English teacher at the local high school, she was more accustomed to being ma’amed, but if Growl started ma’aming Sophia, she was going to spit in his coffee.Okay. Not really,she promised Enrique, who would have laughed.

“What flavor this time?”

“Am I still stopping by too much?”

Sophia swallowed her guilt. She should be grateful. Enrique had adored his family. After his military service there’d never been any doubt he’d move back to Bear Creek. Sophia too loved being around her family and so many friends. People cared for her, and they’d rallied around her in her darkest grief. But the past six months, she’d felt smothered. She wanted to claim her life back. Build her business. Try something that challenged her. She’d even started taking pictures on her walks or trail runs in the forest or along the creek and had bought a sketch pad. Maybe she’d use it.

It wasn’t that she wanted to forget Enrique. She’d always love him. But she felt trapped in the role of grieving fiancée, and guilty as if by still being alive and wanting to live, she’d be hurting his family.

She felt her mother swivel and eye her.

“No, of course not,” Sophia surged into speech. “Ugh. When her mother arrived, it was like she was twelve again, although her mother had trusted her more then, than she did now. It’s always good to see you, and the late-night shifts get boring without a friendly face and cold without a pick-me-up coffee. Flavor?” she finished brightly.

“I liked the holiday blend.”

“Look at you, shaking off your Scrooge early,” she teased and made him the largest size in a to-go cup. That’s what she would get him this year. A thermos. She’d seen some cute ones in a wholesale catalog from a new Portland company, which, at four and a half hours’ drive, was localish. She made a mental note to order some.

“Heard you and the mayor had words.”

Uh-oh.

“Yes, thank you, Chief. Exactly why I’m here. Better make it two coffees, Sophia,” her mother said.

“The caffeine,” she protested, popping a lid on Raoul’s coffee, hoping he’d take the hint and go.

“You said you had decaf.”

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