Epilogue
Hollie
As I step out of the clinic and into the snow, I’m greeted by the sight of my three alphas lounging against Clay’s pickup truck like the scrummiest of cowboy buffet choices.
“This is a surprise,” I say. “You’ve all come to pick me up from work?”
Tucker tips his hat at me, steps forward, and drags me toward him, kissing my mouth before saying, “It’s Christmas Eve, sweetheart. And we didn’t want you getting lost in any snowstorms.”
I sigh. “That’s a shame. I quite liked the idea of getting lost in a snowstorm, especially if it meant being lost with the three of you.”
“There’s still hope,” he says, pointing at the sky. “You never know when a storm might strike and we might have no choice but to hunker down in the cabin and forgo all the Christmas festivities.”
I pinch Tucker’s arm. “As lovely as that sounds, you know there is no way in a million jingling jingle bells that Annie is going to let us miss her Christmas Eve soiree. Snow storm or no snow storm.”
Clay groans. “I’d much rather just spend Christmas the four of us.”
“Don’t be a grinch,” I say, walking over to him, rising up on my tiptoes, bopping the end of his nose before kissing his mouth. “You love Christmas. In fact …” I unzip his winter coat and peer inside, finding, as I expected, one of his god-awful Christmas sweaters.
“They get worse every year,” I mutter.
“Blame Annie. I think she’s on the mission to find me the worst Christmas sweater possible.”
I smile at him and then I turn to Nash, walking over to him and kissing him last of all.
“How was your day, Hollie?” he asks, wrapping his arms around me.
“Amazing,” I tell him. “I got to meet Mr. Burns new snake.” Tucker shudders. “Seriously, I have the best job in the world.”
“Still don’t know why they made you work on Christmas Eve, though,” Clay grumbles.
“Because I volunteered,” I point out.
I loved my job back in Rockview, but I love it even more out here in Silver Creek.
I know all my patients and all their owners and I also get to spend a serious amount of time with horses.
I even have my own horse now. Cloud is officially all mine and I ride her as often as I can.
My childhood self would be squealing with joy.
Just one of the many advantages I’ve encountered since moving in with Clay and his pack and making Silver Creek my permanent home.
“Let’s get moving,” Clay tells us all. “I’m under strict instructions from Annie not to be late for this Christmas ordeal,” he makes a face, “there’s going to be carols around the tree.”
I clap my hands in excitement. The first Christmas I was here, a snowstorm and all the, well, sexy business, meant I hadn’t experienced Jackson Carols Round the Tree. But last year I did and it’s one of my new most favorite Christmas traditions.
I hop up into the front seat of the cab. “Actually,” I say, “can we make a little detour to the drugstore before we head back to the ranch?”
Three pairs of alpha eyes are on me immediately.
“Is anything wrong?” Nash asks me as Tucker says, “Are you ill?”
“No,” I say, telling a little white Christmas lie, “just another gift I need to pick up.”
“Okay,” Clay tells me, “but be quick.” He glances at his watch. “You know Annie will give me such a lecture if we’re even a minute late.”
“I’ll be quick,” I promise.
He pulls up outside the drugstore and I jump down from the truck, sprinting inside, locating what I need and trying to ignore the expression on Mrs. Mills’ face as she slides my purchase into a paper bag and hands it back.
I cradle it close to my chest, climb back in the truck, and then we’re rumbling away, back to the ranch.
I think this winter might be even more beautiful than the winter before, and that was probably more beautiful than my first winter here.
Everything is sparkling white in the sunshine.
And it feels like we’re somewhere magical.
Somewhere Christmas miracles could happen every single day.
And I’m wondering if they’ll be one of our own again this Christmas.
Not that Annie considers what happened two years ago a Christmas miracle. She has made it very clear on more than one occasion that she takes credit for me hooking up with Clay’s pack, despite the fact that Clay has also pointed out on numerous occasions that she does not control the weather.
“That’s what you think, Clay Jackson,” Annie always says, scrunching up her nose and wriggling her fingers.
Maybe my best friend is a witch and does possess magical powers. Or maybe she just saw what me and Clay had been blind to all those years. The attraction between us. This magical connection. The fact that we were made for each other, all four of us
We spent that first six weeks after Christmas doing the long-distance thing. But after our first heat spent together, we realized how much we meant to each other and in the spring – when the days were filled with sunshine and the grass in the ranch was emerald green – I moved to Silver Creek.
A year and three quarters later, I’m still here and happier than ever.
Clay pulls the truck up outside the big house and turns to me in his seat.
“It’s not too late,” he tells the three of us. “We could fake a stomachache or tell them a fence needs mending urgently.”
“Clay Jackson. We are not missing this for the world.”
He groans. But I know he secretly loves all this. He loves his family, he loves this ranch, and he loves me. I reach across the space between us, kiss his cheek, and then go to meet Annie, who’s waiting for us on the porch, tapping her wristwatch.
“You’re late,” she says, addressing her complaint at her brother.
“You’re always late,” he tells her. “If you got rid of that truck and–”
“Don’t start,” she says, taking my hand and pulling me into the warm embrace of the house.
Mr. and Mrs. J are already inside, a feast spread out on the kitchen table, and so is Travis, the once hot barman who now owns the bar, The Dirty Boot, and is running it alongside my best friend.
“Who wants an eggnog?” Mrs. J asks, producing a tray of drinks and shoving them toward us.
“Not me,” I say. “I just need to use the bathroom.”
I leave my new family laughing and chattering in the kitchen as I sneak upstairs with my package from the drugstore.
Once inside the bathroom, I lock the door and pull out the package inside.
I’ve never done one of these tests before.
I think I know how they work, but I read the instructions ten times through anyway just in case, and then spend the next few moments trying to work out how exactly I’m going to pee on a stick without peeing on my hand too, all over the floor.
Finally, hovering above the toilet, I find the angle, do the business, and place the test to one side, pulling out my cell phone and starting a timer. The stopwatch is halfway through its countdown when there’s a knock on the door.
“You alright in there, sweetheart?” Clay says from the other side. “You’ve been in there a while.”
“Me?” I squeak. “Fine, but…”
I go and unlock the door, finding Clay isn’t alone. Tucker and Nash are there too.
“We were worried about you,” Nash explains. “We thought maybe something happened at the clinic today or you were feeling sad.”
Sometimes the grief about my mom still hits me and knocks me off my feet.
But it’s happening less often now. And when it does come on, it lasts a lot less time.
Not that I’ve forgotten her, not that I don’t miss her, but it’s getting easier, especially with these three men in my life.
They’re one hell of a distraction, one hell of a sexy distraction at that.
There’s also times when my job at the vet clinic can be difficult, when an old dog is ill or a horse is hurt. Sometimes I need a hug from my alphas and reminding of all the good things there are in the world. I’m not surprised they’ve come to check on me.
I usher them inside and lock the door behind them.
“What’s going on?” Tucker asks. “If you’re feeling needy and greedy little Omega, this might not be the best time, what with Clay’s parents right downstairs, but I’m always willing–”
“Nope,” I tell him, and point toward the stick resting by the sink.
“What’s that?” Tucker says.
But Nash has spotted what it is. “A pregnancy test,” he says in wonderment.
All three of them look at me again like they did in the truck.
“You think you’re…” Clay starts.
“Maybe, possibly.” I stopped my contraception medicine a couple of months ago and I had my heat just over six weeks ago – a heat which featured a hell of a lot of breeding talk – unlocking a kink I never knew I possessed!
“There’s a good chance I am, especially as my period’s late, but you never know. ”
My phone alarm blares, making all four of us jump.
“Does that mean it’s ready?” Clay asks.
I nod my head, all of a sudden more nervous than I’ve felt in a long time.
“Do you want me to look?” Nash volunteers.
“I’ll look.”
I stroll back toward the test, pick it up, and stare down at the result. Two blue lines strike across the little window.
“What does it mean?” Tucker says, as the three alphas crowd behind me, peering over my shoulder.
“It means,” I say, a smile broadening across my face as tears bubble in my eyes, “we have another Christmas miracle.”
*** The End ***