Chapter 22
Becken
The function hall echoed with holiday music as Ostor and I hung the last of the silver stars from the ceiling.
Tourists would expect a magical experience tonight for the Christmas Eve cocoa judging contest and the starlight ride, and Lonesome Creek would deliver.
Even if it meant spending my morning balancing on a ladder while my cousin handed me decorations from below.
“A little higher on the left,” Ostor called up. “Rosey wants them to catch the lantern light when people come inside after the ride.”
I adjusted the star, securing it to the beam. “This enough magic for you?”
“There’s never enough magic for Rosey.” Affection softened his voice. “She has plans for a bonfire at our place later, with those packets that turn the flames different colors.”
“She and Carla should compare notes.”
“They already do. Where do you think all these ideas come from? Carla’s been working with Rosey on this for days.”
That explained the hushed conversations I’d noticed between them, the shared smiles whenever I walked into the room. Carla’s enthusiasm for Christmas traditions had infected the entire town, creating a festive energy even my grumpiness couldn’t dampen.
“Almost done here.” I descended the ladder, studying our work.
Silver stars hung from the rafters, catching light and throwing sparkles across the wooden floor.
Evergreen garlands draped the walls, studded with pinecones and red berries.
It looked amazing, like Christmas. Like what Carla had described wanting as a child.
The thought of her face when she saw it made my throat close off.
“Looks good,” Ostor said, coming over to stand with it. “The humans will love it.”
“One particular human, you mean,” Ruugar said with a laugh.
Ostor’s grin widened. “My brother here mentioned you had a development in that area.”
I tightened my lips. “Don’t you males have anything better to discuss?”
“Not really. This is far more interesting than anything else these days.” Ostor began collecting leftover decorations. “You and Carla have mating marks, and here you are, still scowling instead of celebrating with her because…”
“She’s leaving the day tomorrow. And now she’s been offered her dream job in California.”
“Ah.” Understanding dawned on his face. “The phone call at breakfast.”
“Wildwind Ranch. An amazing operation, exactly what she’s been working toward for years.” The words tasted bitter. “It’ll give her everything she wants.”
“Everything she thought she wanted before meeting you. Things change, Becken. People do too. What she wanted a few months ago might not be what she wants now.”
“She should take the job. She’s worked too hard to give up the opportunity.”
“Maybe there are opportunities here too. Have you asked her to stay?”
Before I could answer, the double doors swung open. Dungar strode in, his sheriff’s badge glinting on his chest, a small gift bag clutched in one hand.
“Found you.” He looked pleased with himself. “Got your present.”
My heart rate picked up. “What’s it look like?”
“Exactly as you described.” He held out the bag.
I took it with careful hands, afraid to look inside. “I’ll pay you back.”
“Consider it my contribution to the mating cause. Fates know my social life can’t compete.”
Ostor peered over my shoulder as I reached into the bag.
My fingers closed around something cold and round.
I lifted it from its tissue paper nest, and there it was, the snow globe Carla had described.
A base of polished wood held a perfect glass sphere.
Inside, a miniature evergreen forest surrounded a single decorated tree, and a tiny rabbit sat beneath, its ears perked as if listening for something magical.
When I turned it over, a small bar protruded from the bottom.
“Wind it up,” Dungar said.
I twisted, feeling resistance, then set the globe upright on my palm. The first notes of “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” tinkled out. Snowflakes swirled inside the globe, drifting around the little rabbit and the Christmas tree.
“It’s beautiful.” My voice came out rough with emotion.
“According to the person I bought it from, it’s a rare piece,” Dungar said. “Only a few hundred were made by a craftsman in Vermont about fifty years ago.”
I turned the globe, watching the snow settle again.
“When are you giving it to her?” Ostor asked.
“Tomorrow morning. But I need somewhere special.” I placed the snow globe carefully back in the bag. “The hotel room doesn’t feel right for a Christmas breakfast and giving her this.”
“What about the cabin where you were stranded?” Ostor said.
“Too far if the weather gets bad.”
“Use my office,” Dungar said. “It’s private, it’s in town, and I can easily clear out for the morning.”
I considered it. The sheriff’s office wasn’t exactly romantic, but it was practical. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. I’ll even help you decorate.” He gestured around the function hall. “Not as elaborately as this, but enough to make it special. We have leftover decorations.”
“We could all help,” Ostor said. “Rosey would love to be involved.”
“It’s only a small gift.”
“Cousin,” Dungar said slowly. “You asked me to help you track down a rare collectible that holds deep meaning for a woman you’re in love with, to give her on Christmas morning while playing a song about coming home. If that’s not a grand romantic gesture, I don’t know what is.”
Put that way, it did sound significant. “I want her to have one perfect Christmas morning.”
“Because you love her.” Ostor’s statement wasn’t a question.
“Yes. I do.”
“Then tell her that, along with the gift,” Dungar said. “Make sure she knows exactly what she’d be leaving behind if she takes that California job.”
“I won’t use guilt to make her stay. This isn’t about forcing her to choose.”
“No one said anything about guilt or choosing,” Ostor said. “This is about honesty. She deserves to know how you feel before she makes her decision.”
“I don’t want her sacrificing her career for me. That’s not love. That would be me being selfish.”
“Staying may not be a sacrifice at all.” Dungar said.
Could Carla want this small town, this community, this life with me more than the prestigious position she’d worked toward for years? It seemed impossible. Yet the way she’d looked at me this morning, the hesitation in her voice when she’d mentioned the job offer…
“I need to finish the preparations for tonight.” I changed the subject, unwilling to hold onto false hope. “The sleighs still need their final decorations.”
Dungar and Ostor exchanged a meaningful glance.
“I’ll meet you at the sheriff’s office around eight tonight,” Dungar said. “We can set up for tomorrow. I’ll bring extra lights and those pastries she likes from the bakery.”
“And I’ll make sure Rosey has the food ready by seven tomorrow morning,” Ostor added. “She’s been perfecting a special lizardloin zeckadon all week.”
My cousins’ support felt amazing. This was what community and family meant. People who showed up, who helped carry the weight of hope and fear alike.
Did Carla understand what she’d be leaving if she chose California?
“Thank you,” I said. “Both of you.”
After they left, I finished the last of the decorations, my thoughts circling back to Carla and the decision she faced. The snow globe in its bag sat on a table, full of memory and meaning and unspoken hope.
The function hall door creaked open, and I turned, expecting Tark or one of my other cousins. Instead, Carla’s voice drifted in, though she remained outside the entrance.
“It’s not that simple.” She sounded frustrated. “Yes, Wildwind is amazing. Yes, it’s everything we talked about over too many bottles of wine.”
I froze, not wanting to eavesdrop but unable to announce I was here, listening. Not without embarrassing us both.
“The contract would be for one year with the option to renew.” She paused. “You know what one year would mean for my resume. The money’s excellent. The benefits are too.”
My heart sank. She was discussing details, working through logistics. This wasn’t someone uncertain about taking a position. She was planning her next steps.
“It’s complicated. There are other factors now.” Her sigh drifted through the open door. “No, not just the community, though they’ve been wonderful. There’s someone.”
My heart flipped over.
“I know it’s fast. Trust me, no one is more surprised about it than I am. He’s nothing like I expected. Nothing like anyone I’ve dated before.”
Pride and possessiveness surged through me.
“Sarah, I can’t explain it. It just feels right, like I’ve found where I’m supposed to be.”
Hope bloomed in my chest, dangerous and fragile.
“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. It is sudden. Maybe… You’re right. I need to think this through. I just don’t know what to do.”
My balloon of hope popped, fizzling across the room.
“I have to go. I need to help with the final preparations for tonight’s ride.” Her voice moved further from the door. “I’ll call you when this is over.”
Holly called out to Carla, and she stepped outside, her footsteps fading. I stood frozen, staring at the bag, my mind replaying her words. She’d talked about me. About us. About feeling like she’d found where she belonged.
But then she’d acknowledged this was fast. Maybe even too sudden. She’d also discussed the contract terms. The money. The benefits. The opportunity she’d worked her entire career to secure.
I wanted her to succeed, to achieve everything she’d worked for. The thought of her sacrificing her dreams for me and this town made my stomach twist with guilt.
I stepped off the ladder and walked over to the bag, carefully removing the snow globe again.
I wound it and listened to the delicate notes of “I’ll Be Home for Christmas”.
The irony of the song wasn’t lost on me.
For Carla to be home for Christmas, she would first need to recognize where home truly was.
Was it here with me, or was it in California, building the career she’d always wanted?
I placed the snow globe back in its bag and tucked it safely in my coat pocket. Whatever she decided, I’d make sure she had one perfect Christmas morning.
Even if it was the only Christmas we’d ever share.