Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Isla
The moment we stepped outside, the world transformed into a magical snowglobe that took my breath away.
The sun already hung low in the pale blue sky, casting everything in soft light that made the snow sparkle like crushed diamonds.
Christmas lights strung along the cabin's eaves twinkled merrily, and I could smell wood smoke from the fireplace mixing with the clean, crisp scent of fresh snow.
“It’s so dreamy,” Sierra breathed, her voice muffled by her scarf as she gazed around in wonder. “Like a Christmas card come to life."
She was right. The evergreen trees surrounding the cabin were heavy with snow, their branches drooping gracefully under the weight.
Icicles hung like crystal daggers from the gutters, catching the light and throwing rays across the pristine white landscape. Even the woodpile looked festive, each log topped with a perfect layer of powder.
"First order of business," Sierra declared with determination she usually reserved for Toffee’s litterbox freak outs, "snowmen. Huge, fluffy snowmen."
Without waiting for agreement, she dropped to her knees in a particularly inviting patch of snow and began gathering it into her arms.
Her enthusiasm was infectious, and within seconds, we were all kneeling beside her, packing snow into balls and debating the finer points of snowman building.
"The base has to be massive,” Sierra explained, her cheeks already pink from the cold as she rolled a growing snowball across the yard. "Like, really massive. Big enough that he looks all jolly."
"Don't forget proportion," Estelle added, helping guide Sierra's snowball as it picked up more snow and grew to an impressive size. “He still has to look good!”
The guys, meanwhile, had positioned themselves strategically around the yard—close enough to help if we needed it, far enough away to give us space to work.
They were watching us with indulgent smiles, watching us throw ourselves into our project like we were working on a masterpiece.
Sierra's snowman grew with impressive speed. She had a natural talent for packing snow just right—firm enough to hold its shape, but not so compact it became ice.
The base was indeed huge, probably four feet across, and perfectly round. The middle section went up next, placed by Connor, slightly lopsided but charming in its imperfection.
"Arms!" she announced suddenly, looking around for suitable branches. "He needs arms, and they have to be just right. Not too thick, not too thin, and definitely crooked in a cute way."
Connor wordlessly handed her two perfectly proportioned twigs he'd apparently collected while she worked.
"These are perfect," Sierra said, beaming up at him with such genuine joy that something soft flickered across his features. "Thank you."
I'd decided mine was going to be a snowwoman, complete with elegant features and what I hoped would pass for a graceful pose.
Meanwhile, Estelle had embarked on what she declared to be "an artistic tribute to masculine perfection."
Her plan was ambitious: create a snowman so handsome, so flawlessly proportioned, that it would capture Jax's legendary good looks in frozen form.
"I'm going to make him look exactly like you," she announced to Jax with the confidence of someone who had never attempted snow sculpture before.
What emerged over the next hour was... well, calling it a disaster would have been generous.
The snowman's head was egg-shaped and tilted at an alarming angle. The carrot nose, meant to be rakishly handsome, hung crooked and drooped like it was melting.
The coal eyes she'd positioned were wildly uneven—one sitting much higher than the other, giving the entire face a deranged, lopsided expression.
"It's... something,” Estelle observed weakly, stepping back to survey her creation. The snowman stared back with its uneven coal eyes, seeming to judge her.
Adrian took one look at the monstrosity and nearly choked on his own laughter.
"Oh my GOD,” he gasped, pointing at the abomination with undisguised glee. "Is that supposed to be JAX? Because if it is, this is the BEST day of my entire life."
"It's not that bad," Estelle protested, though her voice lacked conviction.
“Star, that thing looks like Jax after being run over again, then hit by a snowplow, then struck by lightning," Adrian cackled. "It's the anti-Jax.”
Jax, who had been suspiciously quiet during this exchange, was staring at his snow doppelganger with an expression of profound horror.
His hand had actually risen to touch his own face, as if checking to make sure his actual features were still properly arranged.
"It doesn't look anything like me," he worried faintly. "Please tell me it doesn't look anything like me.
"Oh, it absolutely looks like you," Adrian continued with malicious delight. "If you were a medieval gargoyle with a problem."
That was apparently the final straw for Sierra.
The first snowball came from nowhere—a perfectly formed sphere of powder that exploded against Adrian's shoulder with a satisfying puff.
All eyes turned to her. “Adrian! Stop being mean about Estelle’s snowman!”
"But look at it!" Adrian protested, still wheezing with laughter. "It's like a crime against nature! Jax's ego may never recover!"
Another snowball hit him square in the chest with a satisfying thump, temporarily cutting off his commentary.
"Anyone else want to make fun of our artistic efforts?" Sierra asked sweetly, already packing another snowball with ominous intent.
"I think it has character," Connor declared diplomatically, though he was definitely hiding a smile behind his knuckles.
"It has something," Jax muttered, still staring at his snow likeness with the expression of a man contemplating his own mortality. "I'm just not sure character is the word I'd use."
This time, a snowball hit Jax straight in the face.
"Oops," Estelle said with obviously fake remorse, dusting off her hands. "Slipped."
His eyes went dark with mischief. "Oh, it's like that, is it?"
"I don't know what you mean," She replied sweetly, already backing away from her snowman as Jax bent to scoop up ammunition.
"RUN!" Sierra shrieked, and suddenly we were all scattering across the yard like startled deer.
What followed was the most epic snowball battle in the history of winter warfare.
The guys, with their superior arm strength and tactical minds, should have dominated completely. But they were handicapped by their love for us, which meant their throws were more playful than punishing.
The same could not be said for their attacks on each other, though.
Connor nailed Jax in the back of the head with a snowball so perfectly aimed he could have been a sniper.
Jax retaliated by tackling Connor into a drift, both of them disappearing in an explosion of powder and masculine grunting.
"Divide and conquer!" Sierra yelled, lobbing a snowball at Adrian while he was distracted by his brothers’ wrestling match.
Her aim was terrible this time—the snowball sailed wide and hit me instead, exploding against my coat in a shower of ice crystals.
"Hey!" I protested, immediately bending to gather my own ammunition. "I'm on your team!"
"Friendly fire!" Sierra called back, already running as I took aim. “Noooo!”
The battle lines shifted constantly.
One moment, it was girls versus guys. Next, it was everyone for themselves. Then suddenly, Sierra and Connor were allied against the rest of us, working with wordless coordination that spoke of a deep connection.
Adrian proved to be a master of psychological warfare, using his considerable ridiculousness to distract us before launching surprise attacks.
He sidled up to me with that innocent smile, leaned in like he was going to whisper sweet nothings, then stuffed a handful of snow over the back of my coat.
"You're evil!” I shrieked, trying to shake off the snow while simultaneously plotting revenge.
"You love it," he replied with that insufferable grin, dancing away before I could retaliate.
Jax, meanwhile, had turned snowball fighting into strategy. His throws were precise, powerful, and effective.
He could hit a target from thirty yards away and make it look effortless. The problem was, his primary target seemed to be Adrian, and their exchanges quickly escalated from playful to downright aggressive.
"Boys," Estelle called in exasperation as a particularly vicious throw from Adrian sent Jax tumbling backward into a snow bank. "This is supposed to be fun, not deadly combat."
"This is fun," Jax called back, emerging from the drift with snow in his hair and murder in his eyes. "Isn't this fun, Catalyst?”
"Loads," Adrian replied cheerfully, already packing another snowball like a threat.
Connor ended their escalating war by slamming both of them with simultaneous throws that were so powerful they had to be murderous.
Both Adrian and Jax went down in a tangle of muscles and cursing, while Connor stood over them with the satisfied expression of a man who'd just solved two problems with one solution.
"Show-off," Sierra accused fondly, grinning.
The battle raged for what felt like hours, though it was probably only thirty minutes before we were all breathless, soaked, and giddy with exhaustion.
We ended up collapsed in a circle on the snow, tangled together, steam rising from our overheated bodies in the cold air.
"I can't feel my toes," Estelle announced to the sky, her voice muffled by her scarf.
"I can't feel my face," Sierra added. "But in the best possible way."
"This is perfect," I sighed, letting my head fall back against Adrian's shoulder, where he was sprawled behind me. “So perfect."
Above us, the first stars were beginning to appear in the darkening sky, and the Christmas lights along the cabin looked even more magical against the twilight.
Snow fell in lazy flakes, dusting our already-white clothing and adding to the dreamlike quality of the moment.
"We should get inside," Connor grunted eventually, standing first and helping Sierra up.