I squeezed the handle of my basket and pulled it in close to my chest.
Had this been a couple of years ago, I would have rattled off a spell that would have had the dogs far more interested in rolling around in the clover than investigating the uninvited guest on their property, but if I was truly going to live my life without magic, I had to find other ways to handle these types of situations.
Unfortunately, all I could come up with was a firm, “Sit!”
The dogs slowed to a stop, but instead of sitting, they opted to go with furious barking.
I thought about leaving but turning my back on the canines didn’t seem wise. Maybe I could give them one of Izzy’s squares? I knew dogs weren’t allowed to have chocolate, but currant squares were okay, weren’t they? Maybe I could just distract them with the scent?
“Okay, boys,” I said, lifting one side of the basket, really wishing I had brought doggie treats instead of baked goods. “We can be friends.” I reached inside, without taking my eyes from the dogs, cracked open one of the containers, and pulled out a square.
Except it wasn’t a square.
I was holding a dog snack, in the shape of a bone. What? How? I could have sworn both of the containers had been filled with black currant walnut squares. I had checked each one just to be sure. There had to be another explanation. Again, magic didn’t just happen.
Suddenly I remembered I had two very large dogs before me ready to attack.
I tossed out the treat, then reached into the basket again and tossed out another.
Thankfully, the noise stopped.
My shoulders dropped in relief.
“Well, good morning.”
I had been so focused on the dogs, I hadn’t even noticed the man strolling up behind them. “I see you’ve met the boys.”
“I’m sorry. I hope you don’t mind. One of the employees,” I said, turning to see if I could spot the teenage boy who really should have given me a heads-up about the dogs, “said I could let myself in.”
“I guess the dogs felt differently about the situation.” The man laughed loudly. “They don’t react well to surprise visits. Even from pretty young ladies.”
“Um, yes, I can see that.” It was then I realized I was looking at Constance Graves’s brother. He was an imposingly large man, with lots of bulky muscle despite being on the tail end of middle age, but he had the same watery blue eyes as his sister and the same pursed mouth.
“The dogs are supposed to be in the house during business hours, but accidents happen,” he said, giving his nose a rub.
“Right.” The amused glint in his eye made me think the dogs charging hadn’t exactly been an accident, especially given how politely they were sitting now, watching me with hopeful expressions.
“So, is that a stack of encyclopedias you’ve got hidden in that basket? Because if it is, I can save us both some time.”
“No, I, uh, my name is Brynn Warren.”
“Brynn Warren,” he said, looking at me with new interest. “As in, one of the Warrens from Ivywood Hollow?”
“Um, yes?”
“I see. What can I do for you, Brynn Warren?” He smiled. “Us founding families need to stick together.”
“I came by to offer our condolences for the passing of your sister.”
For a second he looked confused. If I had to guess, he had already forgotten he was supposed to be grieving. “Right. And have you brought something other than dog treats in that little basket of yours to ease the pain?”
I blinked. That wasn’t quite the response I had been expecting. I took a peek in the basket to make sure all of the treats hadn’t somehow been swapped out with dog snacks. Much to my relief the other container was still filled with baked goods. “Black currant walnut squares?”
“Well then, in that case, I accept your condolences. Why don’t we have ourselves a little sit-down on the porch and take a moment to remember dear old Connie.”