Page 45 of Christmas at Wolf Creek

But it’s the final gift —a small envelope passed to me by Declan —that truly takes my breath away.

“This is from all of us,” he says quietly. “We wanted you to have options.”

Inside is a legal document—ownership papers for my cottage, transferred entirely into my name. No more renting, no more temporary feeling. A home, truly ours.

“We know how much that place means to you and Nora,” Kane explains, watching my face carefully. “Now no one can ever take it from you.”

I press my hand to my mouth, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. The security this represents—the freedom to plant deep roots without fear—is beyond any material gift they could have given me.

“Thank you,” I finally manage, looking around at these siblings who were strangers just months ago. “All of you.”

“There’s more,” Declan says, nodding toward the envelope.

I look down and notice a second document beneath the first. This one makes my heart skip a beat—passports. New identities. A backup plan.

“Just in case,” he says softly, for my ears only. “We hope you never need them. But if you do...”

“They’re ready,” I finish, understanding perfectly. My eyes meet his, then Kane’s. They haven’t forgotten the danger, haven’t dismissed my fears. They’ve chosen to give us Christmas first, while quietly preparing for whatever comes after.

It’s the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given me—acknowledging both my need for roots and my potential need for flight.

“One more present!” Nora announces, pulling a clumsily wrapped package from behind the couch. “This one’s from me to everyone!”

We watch as she presents her mysterious gift to the room at large. The paper falls away to reveal a framed drawing—a family portrait done in Nora’s distinctive style. There we all are, standing in front of the lodge, even Scout at our feet. But what catches my breath is how she’s drawn us—all holding hands, connected in an unbroken chain. Family.

“It’s us,” she explains unnecessarily, beaming with pride. “All the MacGallans together for Christmas.”

“It’s perfect,” Declan says, his voice suspiciously rough. “The best present of all.”

As everyone admires Nora’s artwork, exclaiming over details and likeness, I slip away to the window, needing a moment to compose myself. The view outside is postcard-perfect—fresh snow falling gently, blanketing the world in pristine white. A white Christmas, because of course it would be. The universe seems determined to make this day absolutely perfect. A screech has me turning around to see Kat hitting Rory.

Chapter 21

Kat

Icouldn’t help myself. The moment I caught Rory reaching for his pocket—the same pocket he’d been patting all morning nervously—I just lost it. My careful planning went straight out the window.

“Don’t you dare!” I screeched, whacking his arm. “Don’t you freaking dare, Rory Hennessey!”

Everyone froze. The room went silent except for the crackling fire and the soft Christmas music playing in the background. Rory’s face was a picture of utter confusion, his hand still halfwayto his pocket.

“Do what?” he asked, those gorgeous blue eyes of his twinkling with mischief.

“Nothing,” I muttered, suddenly aware of my entire family watching us like we were the main attraction in a holiday rom-com. “Forget it.”

“No, no,” Kane drawled from his spot by the fire. “Please continue. This seems important.”

I shot him a glare that would have melted snow. My cheeks felt hot enough to fry an egg. This wasn't how I’d planned it. Not at all. In my head, it had been moonlight and snow and perfect words that would make everyone cry. Not me, red-faced and flustered, with bedhead and wearing my ridiculous blinking Santa hat.

“Kat?” Rory prompted, his expression softening as he took my hand. “What’s going on?”

The tiny velvet box in my pajama pocket felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. I’d been carrying it around for three days, waiting for the perfect moment. Christmas morning had seemed ideal—everyone together, happiness overflowing, the magic of the holiday making everything more special.

“I just—” I swallowed hard. “I had a plan.”

“A plan for what?” Lana asked, though the knowing smile on her face suggested she had guessed.

I took a deep breath. Screw perfect. When had anything in our lives ever gone according to plan? The most beautiful things happened in the messy,unscripted moments.