Page 40 of Christmas at Wolf Creek

“I should check on Nora,” Ella says, pulling out her phone. “Just to make sure she’s settled.”

Declan gives her an understanding nod. “Tell Helen we won’t be late.”

When she steps away to make the call, Declan turns his full attention on me. His gaze is calculating, assessing in a way that makes me think he doesn’t miss much.

“So,” he says conversationally, “how long have you been in love with my sister?”

I choke on my beer, coughing while he watches with mild amusement. “I don’t—that’s not—”

“Save it,” he interrupts, not unkindly. “I’ve been reading people for a living for twenty years. You’re not exactly subtle.”

I set my bottle down carefully. “We’re neighbors. That’s all.”

“By your choice or hers?” he asks, hitting uncomfortably close to the mark.

I stare at the table, debating how honest to be with this man I barely know. Something about his direct approach breaks through my usual defenses.

“Mine, I guess,” I admit. “She made it clear from day one she wasn’t looking for... complications. She has Nora to think about.”

Declan nods thoughtfully. “She’s been on her own a long time. Protecting Nora is second nature to her.”

“As it should be,” I say firmly. “That kid deserves the world.”

His expression softens slightly. “You know her well? Nora?”

“Not really,” I shrug. “See her around town sometimes. At the bakery, the bookstore. She’s a good kid. Smart. Funny.” I don’t mention the times I’ve watched from a distance as Ella and Nora walk Scout in the meadow between our properties, their laughter carrying on the wind.

“Ella thinks someone’s watching them,” Declan says abruptly, his voice low. “Has been for a while. You notice anything unusual around their place? Strangers asking questions?”

The question catches me off guard, but I think of the unfamiliar car I spotted on the back road last week. The footprints in the snow near Ella’s cottage didn’t belong to her or Nora.

“Maybe,” I say carefully. “Why?”

Before he can answer, Ella returns, tucking her phone away. “Nora’s fine. Already in bed with a book.”

Declan stands smoothly, the intensity of the previous moment gone. “I’m going to grab anotherround. Same for everyone?”

When he’s gone, Ella turns to me with a curious expression. “What were you two talking about? You look... unsettled.”

“Nothing important,” I lie. “Just ranch business.”

She doesn’t believe me—I can tell by the slight furrow between her brows—but she doesn’t press.

“Dance with me,” I say suddenly, the words out before I can stop them.

Her eyes widen in surprise. “What?”

I’m already regretting it, but there’s no backing down now. “Dance. With me. If you want to, I mean.”

For a moment, I think she’ll refuse, make some excuse about checking on Nora again. Instead, she smiles—a genuine smile that reaches her eyes.

“I’d like that,” she says softly.

The band has switched to a slower song, something with a gentle sway that doesn’t require fancy footwork, thank God. I lead her to the edge of the floor, hyper-aware of her hand in mine, the warmth of her beside me.

“I should warn you,” I say as I tentatively place my hand at her waist, “I haven’t danced in years. Might step on your toes.”

“I’ll risk it,” she replies, her hand settling lightly on my shoulder.