The crisp morning air of Pinewood, Alberta, smelled faintly of pine needles and localized romantic tension. Constable Liam Vance smoothed the lapels of his immaculate Red Serge, checking his reflection in the polished brass buttons. Beside him, a massive German Shepherd named Bandit let out a soft huff, his tail thumping against the hardwood floor.
"Looking good, buddy?" Liam asked, scratching Bandit behind the ears. Bandit yawned. He was an excellent tracking dog, an affectionate house pet, and arguably the biggest obstacle to Liam’s love life.
Liam’s heart did a small, predictable flip as he stepped out onto Main Street. Right on cue, Clara Evans was arranging a display of vintage birdhouses outside her cozy antique shop, The Timeless Trinket. Clara was everything Liam ever dreamed of: funny, kind, and possessing a laugh that made him forget the entire Canadian criminal code.
"Morning, Constable," Clara called out, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Out to keep the streets safe from rogue squirrels?"
"Just doing my civic duty, Clara," Liam said, stepping up to the storefront. He took off his Stetson, holding it over his heart. This was it. He had rehearsed the invitation three times in the mirror. "Actually, I was wondering if you might be free tonight. They’re doing the outdoor movie night in the park, and I thought—"
"Oh, Liam, that sounds—"
Before Clara could finish, Bandit spotted a stray wrapper blowing across the pavement. Intent on retrieving the litter, the hundred-pound dog lunged forward. The leash yanked Liam sideways mid-sentence. He stumbled, tripped over a decorative wicker rocking chair, and fell backward into a massive display of hand-woven wicker baskets.
Baskets rained down. Liam groaned, his Stetson landing perfectly on top of his boots. By the time he scrambled out, apologizing profusely and stacking baskets, the moment was thoroughly ruined. Clara chuckled warmly, helping him up. "Maybe next time, Liam. Let me know when you get your partner under control."
The second near-miss happened two weeks later at the annual Pinewood Harvest Festival. The autumn leaves were a vibrant canvas of reds and golds, mimicking the colors of Liam's uniform. He found Clara standing near the apple cider stand, looking radiant in a chunky knit sweater.
"Clara," Liam said, approaching with two cups of warm cider. "I wanted to apologize for the basket incident. And, well, I have two tickets to the touring jazz ensemble in the city this Friday. I’d really love it if you’d come with me."
Clara smiled, a soft blush hitting her cheeks. "Liam, I would absolutely love to go with—"
“Woof!”
Bandit, who had been sitting perfectly at Liam's side, suddenly caught a whiff of a stray cat hiding beneath the stage. With a sudden explosion of canine energy, Bandit bolted. The sudden jerk sent the cups of hot apple cider flying from Liam's hands.
In a slow-motion catastrophe straight out of a movie, the sticky, sweet cider splashed directly across the front of Clara’s pristine cream-colored sweater.
"Oh my goodness! I am so, so sorry!" Liam panicked, reaching for napkins, his face burning brighter than his jacket.
"It's okay! It's just cider!" Clara laughed, though she was already dabbing frantically at the massive brown stain. "Go catch your dog, Liam! I'll see you around!"
Liam chased Bandit down, muttering a vow to switch to a cat.
By December, the town was covered in a picture-perfect blanket of snow. Pinewood looked like a literal Christmas card. Liam stood under the glowing fairy lights of the town square, watching Clara close up her shop. He had a small, wrapped box in his pocket—a vintage silver bookmark he’d found in the next town over.
As Clara walked down the steps, she slipped on a patch of black ice. Liam rushed forward, catching her effortlessly in his arms. For a second, time stopped. The snow fell softly around them. Her eyes locked onto his. Their faces were inches apart. Liam could see the mist of her breath. This was the hallmark moment. He started to lean in.
Bandit, thrilled by the sudden group hug, happily wedged his massive, furry head directly between their faces, vigorously licking both of them with icy, wet kisses.
Clara burst into laughter, breaking the spell as she stood up. "Well, I guess three's a crowd. Goodnight, Liam. Merry Christmas."
Liam sighed, adjusting his hat as she walked away. He looked down at his loyal, tail-wagging partner. "You're lucky you're cute, Bandit," Liam muttered, pulling a dog treat from his pocket. The girl would have to wait; the Mountie always got his man, but the dog always got the girl's timing.
