It was a rather cold and crisp morning as I trudged through the freshly fallen snow, the air biting at my cheeks.

Raven’s Bluff was quiet, save for the crunch of my boots on the ground as I made my way to the local market. The narrow streets were lined with old clapboard houses dusted with frost, their chimneys puffing soft trails of smoke into the sky.

If it weren’t for the break-in at my shop last night, it might’ve been a peaceful morning.

I pulled my scarf tighter, muttering angrily under my breath. “Stealing cookies? Really?”

The broken window was bad enough, but what kind of person breaks into a shop to steal gingerbread?

I couldn’t help but feel like the whole town had lost its collective mind over this Perchten nonsense. Local folklore was one thing, but this was unacceptable. When we start having people smashing shop front windows and taking things, that’s when I draw the line. That was a new low.

I headed down Main Street, the familiar sight of Tim Dawson stepping out of the Black Dog Coffee House made me smile.

Tim was hard to miss, with his broad shoulders and the way he carried himself like he hadn’t quite left the Army behind.

His hair was cropped short, and he wore his usual no-nonsense expression that could turn into a grin in an instant when he saw a familiar face. Today, it seemed like I was that familiar face.

“Nora!” he called, waving a takeout coffee cup in the air. “Guess who just snagged the last cinnamon bun?”

I grinned back, despite the sinking feeling in my stomach from the mess at the shop. “Should've guessed it would be you.”

He walked toward me, already sipping his coffee, and held up the paper bag. “Care to share? Looks like you could use a pick-me-up.”

“You have no idea. Had a fun morning dealing with the police.” I replied, pushing a stray lock of hair out of my face.

Tim’s brow furrowed, and he shot a concerned look down the street toward my shop. “Seriously? What the heck happened?”

“Someone broke the front window last night and took a batch of cookies right from the display. Left the place a mess. Jared’s boarding up now, but I still need to figure out how to replace the window.”

Tim shook his head, concern written all over his face. “Sounds like someone’s holiday spirit needs a serious adjustment. You want me to take a look later? I’ve got a toolbox in the car.”

“Thanks, but Jared’s handling it with the bookshop owner. You know how he is. Won't let me anywhere near a hammer after the bookshelf incident.”

Tim chuckled. “Right, the great 'shelf collapse of 2019.' Hard to forget that one.”

I gave him a playful shove, though the memory made me cringe.

“Hey! In my defense, the instructions were in Swedish.” I said.

“Sure, but I’m pretty sure the universal symbol for 'don’t lean on this' was clear,” he teased.

“Anyway,” I said, trying to shift the subject, “How’s the comic book business coming along? You know, aside from hogging all the cinnamon buns.”

“Slow and steady,” Tim replied. “I’m meeting with a printer next week. Just trying to finalize a few designs first. I could use a fresh set of eyes on it. That is assuming you’re up for it of course.”

“I’d love to help. As long as it doesn’t involve any heavy lifting. Or shelves.”

Tim grinned. “Deal.”

We walked together down the street, past the shop windows decked out in holiday cheer and twinkling lights that had started popping up on every light post.

The town was already in full tilt Christmas mode, despite the air still being crisp with the last traces of fall.

There was always something about Raven's Bluff during this time of year that made it feel like a snow globe town, perfectly contained in its own little festive bubble. The lights, the garland, the smell of pine.

It was like the town was determined to be as charming as possible, even with vandals smashing shop windows and Perchten rumors flying around.

I tentatively glanced at him, then asked, “What do you make of this Perchten thing? ”

Tim shrugged, taking another sip of his coffee. “You know me. I’m not big on the whole ghosts and goblins thing. I’ll betcha it’s just someone’s dumb kids having a laugh at the town’s expense.”

“Maybe.” I said, glancing over my shoulder as if the Perchten might be lurking in our shadows. “But I can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to it. Things have been getting weird lately.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “Weird how?”

“I don’t know how to explain it. It’s more than just a couple cookies disappearing, or some decorations getting trashed. There’s this odd energy in the air. A feeling. It’s like someone, or something, is trying to spoil the holidays.”

Tim, the iconic comedian that he was, put his fingers to his temples and said in an impressive Yoda voice, “I sense here is a disturbance in the Force. Like a thousand cookies cried out all at once, and suddenly were silenced.”

I punched him playfully in the arm, “Seriously Timothy! Come on, you know I have a Knack for these things. I’m serious, something feels off.”

“Okay! Okay. You win. Seriously though, I say, if there is some jerk running around in a creepy elf costume, then I say we find him and teach him what happens when you mess with Raven’s Bluff. ”

“Right,” I said, “We can string him up to the town tree!”

We both laughed feeling the weight of the morning lighten a bit as we made our way down Main Street. We exchanged small talk about the town's latest issues. Nothing much really, mostly gripes about the weather and how it was affecting business. But the truth was there was more on my mind.

I glanced at Tim out of the corner of my eye, wondering how to bring it up. He'd been through a lot lately, adjusting to life back in Raven’s Bluff. Military life was highly structured. A far cry from small town life, and I didn’t want to push.

“So,” I asked, trying to choose my words carefully, “how is Julie?”

Tim took a sip from his coffee, his expression neutral. “She’s doing good. Busy with work and stuff, you know how it is.”

I nodded. “That’s good. Sorry I don’t mean to pry. It’s just haven't seen her around much lately. She’s been keeping to herself?”

Tim shrugged, his eyes scanning the familiar street as we walked. “Yeah, well she’s more of a introvert. Likes her space.”

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“Well, I can’t blame her for that,” I said lightly, though I couldn't help but wonder. “Still, I’d love to get to know her better. Maybe we could all have dinner sometime.”

He smiled a little. “Playing big sis again?”

I blushed a little. I couldn’t help it with Tim. We had grown up together and had been life long friends. We even tried dating for a while but that had been a little too weird. So we settled for just being friends. Good friends.

“That would be fun. But try to take it easy on her. She’s just a little different. She’s not used to small-town life yet.” he said.

“That makes sense,” I replied, keeping my tone peppy and upbeat. “I guess moving to a place like this can be a bit of an adjustment.”

Tim gave me a grateful look, but he didn’t elaborate.

I decided not to press him further, instead focusing on being supportive. If he wanted to talk more, he would. Besides, pushing too hard would only make him defensive.

Tim had always been fiercely protective of the people he cared about, and if Julie was one of them, I wasn’t about to step on any toes.

Finally, at last, we reached my poor shattered shopfront, where Jared was busy boarding up the window. The rhythmic sound of hammering was almost deafening and echoed down the street.

Jared stood on a ladder, nailing a large sheet of plywood over the broken front window. George, who owns the bookshop next door to us, was helping hold it in place, his expression set in mild irritation.

“Hey guys, need another hand?” Tim called out, his mood visibly lightening as we approached.

Jared glanced down at us, then at the makeshift repairs. “Could use a few more nails. We’ll need this thing to hold until the glass comes in.”

I pulled out a small box of nails from my coat pocket and handed one to Jared. “Here, this should help. I figured we were almost out, so I grabbed some while I was at the store.”

“Thanks babe.” Jared muttered, eye balling me with that knowing gaze. He turned back to his work hammering the nails in with practiced ease. “What a bloody mess.”

Tim stood beside me, watching Jared work, but I could tell his mind was still elsewhere, and I knew where.

It happened from time to time with Tim. He had been in a few firefights in his time deployed, and the wounds still haunted him occasionally.

It hurt me to see him like this, but I knew he was coping better than other veterans with PTSD. Though I still gave his arm a gentle reassuring squeeze.

“Everything’s going to be fine, Tim,” I said softly, keeping my voice steady. “Just take it one step at a time.”

Tim nodded without responding, but I could tell he appreciated the words.

I was probably one of the people he allowed to see that side of him, and just be there.

Sometimes, that’s all you could do. Just be there for the people you cared about, even when you didn’t have all the answers.

“Thanks,” he said, and wrapped me in a his arm pulling me to his side momentarily for a hug.

The cold bite of the early morning air had seeped through my sweater, making me shiver, so I appreciated the momentary warmth of his body. Fixing a broken window in December was not how I planned to start my weekend.

Next to him, George from the bookshop next door wrestled with the other side of the plywood sheet. He grumbled and cursed softly under his breath as he struggled trying to hold it in place while Jared fought to secured it as best he could.

“I swear, it’s like these hooligans have no respect for small businesses anymore,” George said, puffing out a visible cloud of breath into the chilly air.

I nodded in agreement, though my thoughts were a jumble of confusion. Who breaks into a cookie shop?

Of all the shops to target in Raven's Bluff, why mine? It wasn’t like I kept much cash on hand. If they wanted gingerbread, they could’ve asked, I would've happily handed over a batch or two just to avoid the mess.

“I’ll bet it was that Perchten,” Jared muttered under his breath, driving another nail into the board.

“Don’t start with that nonsense,” I replied, though I couldn’t help the small knot of unease that twisted in my stomach.

The Perchten, or whoever was causing this holiday chaos, had been all anyone talked about for weeks now.

It was one thing when it was harmless pranks, like the time someone tied all of Mrs. Claus’ Christmas lights into a giant ball.

Now that had been hilarious. It was a mean joke, but it was harmless, and made half the town come together to help her untangle the mess.

However, breaking my window and stealing cookies? That felt personal.

George chuckled dryly. “You two and your mythical creatures. My money’s on some bored kids trying to stir up trouble. Besides, what’s a Perchten want with a dozen gingerbread cookies?”

George is a middle-aged man, his hair mostly gray with just a hint of darker strands could be described as more salt than pepper, and his thick, bushy mustache is almost iconic in the village.

He’s the kind of person who always has a warm smile and a helpful suggestion for the perfect book.

His used bookstore was a cozy, welcoming place, that was filled with shelves of well-loved novels, biographies, and local histories.

Recently, George had added a small coffee bar to his shop. Which was quickly becoming a town favorite. In no small part thanks to Julee, the cute, adorable and ever energetic barista he hired.

I loved how the smell of fresh coffee blends perfectly with the scent of old pages, making the shop a little haven in town.

However, I had noticed some mild tensions with Sandra and Mitchell who ran the Black Dog Coffee House up the street, ever since he opened his little Coffee bar.

I forced a smile. “Yeah, probably just kids.” I said, though I wasn’t entirely convinced.

As I had said to Tim, it felt like there was a strange tension in the air this year, something that hung over Raven’s Bluff like the thick fog rolling in off the harbor.

Tim’s Star Wars joke had actually not been far off the mark.

People were jumpy, and while I didn't believe in elves running around smashing windows, the whole town seemed on edge.

Jared climbed off the ladder and brushed off his hands.

“That should hold for now,” he said, stepping back to examine the makeshift repair.

“I’ll call Mike later to see if he can come by and replace the glass.”he said, talking about the landlord.

“Oh he’s going to love this,” I said, rolling my eyes. I wasn’t too keen on our landlord. He was nice enough, but I always got this weird vibe around him.

“Well, at least the damage is minimal. It could have been a heck of a lot worse.” I said.

I tried to keep my tone light, but the truth was, this incident had rattled me more than I cared to admit.

The window could be fixed, but the violation of someone breaking into my shop? That wasn’t so easily fixed. It left me feeling vulnerable. A sensation I personally hated feeling.

As George picked up his tools, he gave me a small smile. “If you need anything, you know where to find me. I’ll be in the shop all day, doing inventory. Again.”

He rolled his eyes, as if sorting through stacks of books was a never-ending battle.

“Thanks George, we owe you. Why don’t you ask Julee to help.” I said, waving as he headed back next door.

He waved back, his eyes lighting up as if I had given him the world's greatest idea and said, “Not a bad idea. Oh, and no problem, but I expect you to win that cookie contest and bring home that trophy.”

He waved again as he ducked in through his doorway.

I smiled broader, “You know I will!” I called after him sounding much more confident than I felt.

I looked at the plywood covering the hole that used to be my front window, and felt a small tear roll down my cheek.

Jared lingered for a moment at my side, his brow furrowed as he looked at the boarded-up window. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked, his voice softening.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said quickly, though the unease still clung to me like the December frost. “It’s just a window.”

“And the cookies?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, knowing full well how much work I’d put into the display.

“I guess they didn’t like my gingerbread recipe. I just hope they enjoy eating masonry.” I forced a grin, but my mind wandered back to the Perchten.

What if this wasn’t just a random break-in? What if there was more to it?

But that was crazy, right?

Tim rubbed my shoulder and said, “Hey it’ll be okay. Need some help getting those cookies made?”

I looked from Tim to Jared. They were the two most important men in my life. Well ever since my father passed away three years ago.

I was actually pretty lucky. Not many women could say their husbands got along with their male best friends like brothers. But Tim and Jared hit it off great thanks to my dad.

My father had been one of the most powerful influences in my life, and the one to get me into baking when I was a little girl.

I had loved coming home every day from school to find him faithfully in the kitchen baking pies, breads, cookies and cakes. Our house had always smelled so wonderful growing up.

He was also the one to explain to me I was a witch.

My mother had died when I was very little, so I didn’t have many memories of her accept the dozens of old photo albums my Dad had kept.

He had been a really great man. He worked hard down at the docks and sacrificed a lot for me.

A few years back he had been diagnosed with stage four cancer. He wasn’t given long to live.

It had happened so fast he never really suffered thank goodness.

It was so sudden. He had set all his affairs in order one day, smiled, and then said to me, “Well, that’s it baby girl. All we can do now is wait and enjoy the time we have left together.”

I had never really felt like he was dying. He never showed much in signs of weakness or pain. He just went out fishing one day and seemed to fall asleep in his boat.

The Harbor Master had found him and brought him home. Said he just looked like he was taking a nap.

The Coroner said it was natural causes and that he didn’t feel a thing.

I smiled at Jared and Tim, they had loved my dad as much as I had, and had practically sworn a blood oath to him to take care of me.

To say I was lucky was an understatement.

“You two.” I said, “We got a lot of work to do before the contest, and…”

I looked at my watch and my eyes bugged. The contest was only six hours away!

“Oh my word!! If we are going to win this thing, we best get to work!” I exclaimed.