Chapter 5
Wren
“I’m dying of boredom,” Kat groans, flinging herself dramatically onto the couch beside me. “Literally dying. Someone needs to check my pulse.”
I look up from my laptop, where I’ve been mindlessly playing The Sims. Since Declan, Connor, and Rory had to head back to Toronto three days ago to deal with an emergency at the estate, the lodge has been eerily quiet.
“You could try reading a book,” I suggest, earning myself an eye roll.
“I’ve read three already this week,” she counters. “And I’ve reorganized my closet, learned two TikTok dances, and beat Kane at poker twice.”
“Impressive résumé,” I smirk, closing my laptop. Truth be told, I’m going a bit stir-crazy myself. The mountains are beautiful, but there’s only so much scenic gazing a person can do.
Mia wanders in from the kitchen, cradling a mug of tea. “I heard complaints. What’s happening?”
“Kat’s bored,” I explain. “And honestly, same.”
Kori looks up from where she’s been sketching by the window. “We could drive into town? I need more pencils anyway.”
“Town!” Kat sits bolt upright, suddenly energized. “Yes! Civilization! People who aren’t related to us!”
“What would we even do there?” I ask, though I’m already warming to the idea. “Pinecrest isn’t exactly a metropolis.”
Lana appears at the top of the stairs, her hair wrapped in a towel. “Did someone say town? I’m in. I need conditioner that doesn’t smell like pine trees.”
“Wait,” Kori says, tapping her pencil against her sketchbook. “They might have Christmas decorations in the shops.”
Five pairs of eyes meet in sudden, collective realization.
“Christmas decorations,” I breathe, an unexpected surge of excitement bubbling up. “For the lodge.”
“Oh my god, yes,” Kat claps her hands together. “This place needs serious holiday spirit. It’s practically begging for a twelve-foot tree with obnoxious amounts of tinsel.”
“Declan mentioned Tomas never decorated for Christmas,” I add. “Said the place was always bare during the holidays.”
“Well, that’s just depressing,” Mia says, setting down her mug. “And not happening on our watch. Operation Christmas Takeover is a go.”
“We should get Ella to join us,” I suggest, already reaching for my phone. “She’d know which shops are best.”
Kat’s eyes light up with mischief. “Or we could surprise her. What’s the bakery in town called again?”
“Sweet Treats,” I answer.
A mischievous gleam appears in Kat’s eyes. “What if we just show up and kidnap her for an afternoon of Christmas shopping?”
“Kidnap seems a bit extreme,” I laugh, but I’m already imagining the look on Ella’s face.
“Festive extraction,” Mia corrects, taking a sip from her mug. “Give me fifteen minutes to get ready.”
Forty-five minutes later (because no one in this family can actually get ready in fifteen minutes), we pile into the six-seater SUV and set off for Pinecrest. Kane declined to join our expedition, mumbled an excuse about checking fence lines.
The drive into town is gorgeous—snow-covered mountains in the distance, flanked by snow-dusted pines, and the occasional glimpse of frozen lakes glittering in the distance. It’s like driving through a Christmas card.
“So what’s the plan?” Lana asks from the passenger seat as I navigate a particularly sharp curve. “Just storm the bakery and demand they release Ella into our custody?”
“Pretty much,” I nod, grinning at the absurdity. “Though maybe with less storming and more puppy-dog eyes. It’s hard to say no to Kat when she does her pleading face.”
“It’s a gift,” Kat preens from the backseat. “One I use responsibly and for the greater good.”
“Like the time you convinced that bar owner that you were a call girl?” I remind her.
“That was different. The man was a slimeball,” she chuckled.
I shake my head, laughing. “Just try not to get us banned from the only bakery in town. I hear their cinnamon rolls are legendary.”
Pinecrest appears ahead, a picturesque mountain town that seems designed specifically for Christmas tourism.
Main Street is lined with charming shops, their windows already displaying early holiday decorations.
Workers are wrapping evergreen garlands around lamp posts with red bows, and a crew is setting up what appears to be a massive Christmas tree in the town square.
“Oh, this is perfect,” Lana breathes as we park. “Look at this place—it’s like we drove into a Hallmark movie.”
“Complete with the hot, brooding local,” Kat murmurs, nodding toward a tall man in a flannel shirt loading supplies into a truck. “Ten bucks says he owns a Christmas tree farm and is secretly nursing a broken heart.”
“You’ve watched too many holiday romcoms,” I laugh, pulling my coat tighter against the crisp air. “Come on, let’s find Sweet Treats Bakery.”
We don’t have to look far. The bakery sits in a prime position on Main Street, its windows already fogging with the heat from inside. A bell jingles cheerfully as we enter, and the scent of fresh bread and cinnamon envelops us immediately.
The place is busy—nearly every table occupied with locals nursing coffees and pastries. Behind the counter, a plump woman with gray hair is boxing up cookies while a younger man operates the espresso machine. But no sign of Ella.
“Welcome to Sweet Treats!” the woman calls out. “What can I get for you ladies?”
Kat steps forward, leaning conspiratorially over the counter. “Actually, we’re looking for Eleanor. Is she still working today?”
The woman’s eyebrows rise slightly. “Ella? She’s in the back, working on some new recipes.” Her expression turns curious. “Oh, you must be her husband’s family?”
“Ah, yeah,” I say before I can think better of it. “We’re visiting from out of town.”
The woman looks genuinely surprised. “Well, isn’t that something. Ella’s never mentioned there were so many of you. As a matter of fact, she never mentioned any of you.”
An awkward silence falls as we all absorb this information. Of course, Ella wouldn’t have mentioned us—until a month ago, we didn’t even know each other existed.
“It’s... complicated,” Lana offers with a gentle smile. “Could we surprise her? We won’t keep her long, want to steal her away for a bit of Christmas shopping.”
The woman studies us for a moment, then breaks into a warm smile. “Well, any family of Ella’s is welcome here. I’m Helen, by the way. Let me get her—but act surprised! She’s been working so hard lately, she deserves a little fun.”
Helen disappears through a swinging door, leaving us exchanging guilty looks.
“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” I murmur. “If she’s been keeping a low profile...”
“Too late now,” Kat shrugs. “Besides, it’s just shopping. What could go wrong?”
The door swings open again, and Ella emerges, wiping flour-covered hands on her apron. Her hair is pulled back in a messy bun, and there’s a smudge of what might be chocolate on her cheek. She freezes when she sees us, her eyes widening in alarm.
“Surprise!” Kat exclaims, throwing her arms wide. “Your favorite sisters have arrived to rescue you from pastry prison!”
“What are you doing here?” Ella hisses, glancing nervously at the curious customers now watching our exchange.
“Operation Christmas Decoration,” Mia explains, linking her arm through Ella’s. “We need your expertise. The lodge is in desperate need of holiday spirit.”
“And we missed you,” I add, seeing the genuine panic in her eyes. “It’s been three whole days since we saw you at the ranch.”
“I’m working,” Ella protests, though her expression has softened slightly. “I can’t just leave in the middle of my shift.”
“Actually, you can,” Helen interjects, appearing with Ella’s coat and purse. “Frank says to take the afternoon off. You haven’t used a single personal day all year.”
“But the gingerbread village—”
“Will still be here tomorrow,” Helen insists, practically shoving Ella’s belongings at her. “Go have fun with your family. That’s an order.”
Fifteen minutes and several pastry purchases later (because we couldn’t leave without trying the famous cinnamon rolls), we’ve successfully extracted a still-protesting Ella from the bakery.
“I cannot believe you just did that,” she mutters as we stroll down Main Street. “Do you have any idea how many questions I’m going to get tomorrow?”
“You can tell them we’re your husbands’ long-lost cousins from Ireland,” Kat suggests brightly.
Despite herself, Ella laughs. “They already think I’m mysterious enough, being the widow who moved here from nowhere with a small child. It would only fuel the gossip mill more than it already has, so I told them the truth. You’re all newly discovered family.”
“Speaking of fuel,” Mia interjects, “I smell coffee. Can we caffeinate before shopping?”
We duck into a cozy café across from the town square, claiming a large table by the window.
Once we’ve ordered an assortment of holiday-themed lattes (peppermint mocha for Kat, Mia, and me; gingerbread for Kori; eggnog for Lana; and plain black coffee for Ella, who rolls her eyes at our “dessert drinks”), the tension seems to drain from her shoulders.
“So,” she says, wrapping her hands around her mug, “Christmas decorations?”
“The lodge needs serious holiday help,” Kat confirms. “We’re thinking lights, garlands, possibly a tree tall enough to require professional installation...”
“And where exactly are you planning to find all this?” Ella asks, an amused smile playing at her lips.
“That’s why we kidnapped you,” I explain. “Local guide. Point us to the best shops.”
Ella considers this, then nods slowly. “Well, there’s Pinecrest Hardware for lights. They usually have a decent selection. And Mountain Mercantile carries handcrafted ornaments made by local artisans. But for the really good stuff...” She pauses dramatically.
“Yes?” Kat leans forward, eyes wide.
“We’d need to drive to Evergreen. It’s about forty minutes north. They have this incredible Christmas store that’s open year-round. Three floors of nothing but holiday decorations.”
“A Christmas mecca,” Mia whispers reverently. “We have to go.”
“Wait,” Kori interjects, “what about Nora? Doesn’t she get out of school soon?”
Ella checks her watch and winces. “In an hour. I usually pick her up when I have afternoons off.”
“Perfect!” Kat claps her hands. “We’ll get Nora, then head to Evergreen. Christmas shopping is always better with a kid’s perspective anyway.”
“I don’t know...” Ella hesitates, that familiar wariness creeping back into her expression.
“Please?” I ask softly.
She grins and nods. “Nora will love it.”