Page 12 of Christmas at Wolf Creek

Inside is even more overwhelming—three floors of Christmas overload, with themed sections for every conceivable decoration style: traditional, rustic, modern, vintage, and even sections dedicated to specific colors.

“Okay, we need a plan of attack,” I announce, grabbing a shopping basket. “Ella, you and Nora hit the ornament section. Lana and Mia, you’re ongarlands and wreaths. Wren, you and I will tackle lights and outdoor decorations. Kori, you’re in charge of stockings—we need one for everybody.”

“Do I get a stocking too?” Nora asks, bouncing on her toes.

“Of course you do, peanut,” I assure her. “You’re a MacGallan now, whether you like it or not.”

Her smile is so bright it could power the entire store’s light display.

We scatter to our assigned sections, and I link arms with Wren as we head toward the lighting department.

“Think we can convince Ella to let us put lights on her cottage too?” I ask, eyeing a display of icicle lights that would look perfect along her roofline.

“One battle at a time,” Wren advises. “Let’s start with the main lodge. Baby steps.”

We load up on outdoor lights—white for the roofline, multicolored for the trees around the property, and those cool projection lights that make it look like it’s snowing on the building. I throw in some light-up reindeer for good measure, ignoring Wren’s skeptical expression.

“What?” I defend myself. “They’re classy reindeer.”

“They’re eight feet tall and appear to be made entirely of sequins,” she points out.

“Exactly. Classy.”

An hour later, we reconvene at the checkout counter, our haul requiring two extra carts beyond what we’re already carrying. Ella’s eyes widen at the mountain of decorations.

“You can’t be serious,” she says, staring at the life-sized nutcracker I’ve insisted we need for the entryway.

“Dead serious,” I confirm, patting the nutcracker’s wooden head. “His name is Frederick, and he’s coming home with us.”

The total makes even me wince a little—and I’m not exactly known for financial restraint—but we split it between our credit cards before Ella can protest.

“Consider it our contribution to the family estate,” Wren tells her as the cashier begins the lengthy process of ringing everything up.

“Mom, can we get hot chocolate?” Nora asks, tugging on Ella’s sleeve. “There’s a café next door with whipped cream mountains!”

“Sure, sweetheart,” Ella agrees, looking relieved at the chance to escape the chaos of our checkout process. “We’ll meet you all back at the car?”

“Perfect,” I nod, already arranging for the store employees to help us load everything.

Twenty minutes later, we’re somehow managing to Tetris all the decorations into the SUV, with only minimal squishing of people.

“I think the nutcracker is jabbing my kidney,” Lana complains from the back row, where she’s wedged between boxes of ornaments and Frederick’s wooden legs.

“He’s just getting comfortable,” I assure her, climbing into the passenger seat with a bag of tinsel in my lap. “Think of him as our new family member.”

“If he starts coming to life at night, I’m out,” Wren mutters, starting the engine.

We pick up Ella and Nora from the café, where they’ve secured to-go cups of hot chocolate for everyone. Nora is practically vibrating with excitement, her face smeared with whipped cream and chocolate.

“Did you buy the whole store?” she asks, eyes wide as she climbs over boxes to reach her seat.

“Just the good parts,” I wink at her. “Wait until you see what we got for your cottage.”

Ella’s head snaps up. “My cottage? I thought this was for the lodge?”

“Mostly,” I concede. “But we got a few things for your place, too. Nothing crazy, just some lights and a wreath. Maybe a small tree for Nora’s room.”

Instead of the protest I’m expecting, Ella’s expression softens. “That’s... actually really sweet. Thank you.”