Page 26 of Christmas at Wolf Creek
He wrapped me in his arms, with his chin resting on my head, he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m glad you did.” He set me at arm’s length. “How's Nora? Still out?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Like a light,” I walked over to the counter and set to pouring myself a cup of coffee. “She was exhausted by the time we got back.”
Kane nods, his eyes studying my face a bit too intently. “And you? How did you sleep?”
“Fine,” I lie, avoiding his gaze as I add cream to my coffee. The truth is, I spent half the night staring at the ceiling, jumping at every creak of the old lodge.
He doesn’t press but instead gestures toward theback door. “Want to let Scout out? I’ll keep you company.”
The morning air is brisk but not unbearable as we step onto the wide back porch. Scout bounds into the yard, immediately burying his nose in the snow to track some unfortunate woodland creature.
“Thanks for letting us stay,” I say, wrapping my hands around my mug for warmth. “I know it was last-minute.”
“This is your home too, Ella,” Kane says simply. “You don’t need a reason to stay here.”
His words catch me off guard. Home. Such a loaded concept for someone who’s spent most of her life running.
Before I can respond, the back door opens, and Kat emerges in a fluffy robe and slippers, her hair twisted in a messy bun.
“Oh, good, you’re both up,” she says, bouncing on her toes with surprising energy for the early hour. “I’ve been waiting for reinforcements. Today’s the day!”
Kane groans. “What day?”
“Decoration Day!” She gestures dramatically toward the SUV, still packed with our haul from our shopping spree. “The Great MacGallan Christmas Transformation begins now!”
“It’s not even nine in the morning,” Kane protests, but I can see the fondness beneath his gruff exterior.
“Christmas waits for no man,” Kat declares solemnly. “Besides, we have a literal mountain of decorations to sort through. It could take all day.”
As if summoned by the promise of chaos, the others begin to appear—Wren and Lana with matching bedhead, Kori looking suspiciously well-rested, and Mia clutching her coffee like it’s the only thing keeping her vertical.
“I heard the word ‘decorations,’” Wren yawns, joining us on the porch. “Please tell me there’s breakfast before manual labor.”
“Pancakes are non-negotiable,” Lana agrees, wrapping her cardigan tighter around herself.
Scout races back to the porch, snow clinging to his golden fur, his tail wagging with uncontainable joy. The simple happiness of a dog playing in the snow makes me smile despite the lingering unease from last night.
“Pancakes it is,” I decide, turning back toward the kitchen. “And then decorations. Nora will be thrilled when she wakes up.”
An hour later, the kitchen smells of maple syrup and coffee, dishes are stacked in the sink, and Nora is practically vibrating with excitement as Kat outlines her vision for “Operation Christmas Explosion.”
“The tree goes in the great room, obviously,” she says, pacing with the energy of a general addressing troops. “Lights on the exterior of all outbuildings needto be hung today before the weather turns. Garlands on every staircase, wreaths on every door, and Frederick—” she pauses dramatically, “—Frederick gets put at the front entrance.”
“Who’s Frederick?” Nora asks, her eyes wide.
“Only the most magnificent life-sized nutcracker ever created,” Kat informs her solemnly. “You’ll love him.”
Kane catches my eye across the table, his expression a mix of amusement and resignation. “I’ll handle the outdoor lights,” he offers. “Kori, you want to help?”
She nods, already reaching for her coat. “I’ve got experience from helping my dad every year. The trick is to start from the bottom and work your way up.”
“Lana and I will tackle the garlands,” Wren volunteers. “Mia, you’re on wreath duty.”
“What about me?” Nora asks, practically bouncing in her seat. “What’s my job?”
“You, miss,” Kat says, tapping her nose, “are my special assistant for the most important job of all—the tree!”
Nora gasps with delight, and I feel that familiar ache in my chest—love mixed with a touch of sadness. All these years, it’s just been the two of us decorating our little cottage. Simple, quiet celebrations that, while meaningful, lacked the joyous chaos of a large family.