Page 22 of Christmas at Wolf Creek

“Cold. Gray. Full of corporate bullshit,” he replies finally. “I miss the mountains already. How was the gingerbread adventure?”

I find myself smiling despite my intention to remain stoic. “Surprisingly not terrible. Frank—the bakery owner—is convinced we’ve created a masterpiece that will crush the competition.”

“Sounds intense,” Declan chuckles. “Kat sent photos. You all look like you got into a fight with a flour mill.”

“That’s about how it felt,” I admit. “We’re headed to some tree lighting ceremony in town tonight.”

“You? At a community Christmas event? Now I know the world’s ending.”

“Funny,” I deadpan, but there’s no real annoyance behind it. “Nora wanted us all to go. Hard to say no to the kid.”

“She’s got you wrapped around her finger already,” Declan observes, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “Good. You needed someone to soften that crusty exterior.”

I roll my eyes, even though he can’t see me. “When are you guys coming back?”

“Miss me that much, brother?” he teases, but then his tone turns serious. “Soon. Maybe a week. This situation with the estate is taking longer to sort out than I expected, but Connor’s been a huge help.”

“Good,” I say, surprised by how much I mean it. “The place isn’t the same without your nagging.”

“I prefer to call it ‘executive leadership,’” he retorts. “Hey, listen, I should go. I’ve got a conference call in five. But Kane?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you called. It’s... It’s good to hear your voice.”

The sincerity catches me off guard. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” I mutter, but there’s no bite to it.

“Too late,” he chirps. “Give everyone my love. And Kane? Try to enjoy the tree lighting. It won’t kill you to embrace a little Christmas spirit.”

“No promises,” I reply, but I’m smiling as I hang up.

Chapter 11

Ella

The town square glitters like something from a fairy tale as we approach. Thousands of lights wrap every tree trunk and branch, creating a canopy of stars above the gathering crowd. I grip Nora’s mittened hand in mine, scanning the faces out of habit—looking for threats that likely don’t exist.

“Mom, look! The tree is huge!” Nora tugs me forward, her excitement palpable. The centerpiece of the square is indeed impressive—a massive pine towering at least thirty feet, draped in lights that haven’t yet been illuminated.

“Slow down, sweetheart,” I laugh, letting her pull me along while trying to keep track of the others. Kane and Kori walk behind us, his arm draped casually around her shoulders. Kat, Wren, Lana, and Mia follow, taking photos of everything and pointing out decorations with childlike enthusiasm.

“Ella! Over here!” Helen waves from a booth selling hot chocolate, her cheeks rosy from the cold. “I saved spots for you all near the front!”

I wave back, grateful for her thoughtfulness. In the four years I’ve lived in Pinecrest, Helen has been the closest thing I have to a friend—though I’ve always kept a careful distance, afraid to reveal too much.

“Hot chocolate first,” I tell Nora, steering her toward Helen’s booth. “Then we’ll find our spots.”

The square is packed with what must be the entire population of Pinecrest and the surrounding areas. Children dart between adults, faces sticky with candy canes and marshmallows. Elderly couples huddle together on benches, wrapped in blankets against the evening chill. Teenagers cluster in giggling groups, pretending to be too cool for the festivities while secretly enjoying them.

It’s normal. Wholesome. Safe.

So why can’t I shake this feeling of unease?

“Eight hot chocolates,” Kane orders when we reach the booth, ignoring my protest that it’s too much. “With extra marshmallows for the munchkin.”

Nora beams up at him, and something in my chest tightens. She’s become attached to her new uncle with surprising speed, and he to her. All of them, really—my siblings have embraced Nora with an openness that sometimes makes my throat ache.

“The gingerbread village looks amazing,” Helen tells me as she hands over steaming cups. “Frank hasn’t stopped bragging about it to anyone who’ll listen. Says it’s the best work you’ve ever done.”