Page 10 of The Bear's Christmas Wish
“Any friend of Michael’s is family to us,” Holly said, releasing her with a pat on the shoulder. “And any friend who chooses a North family tree is doubly welcome.”
“We’ve brought hot chocolate,” Noel added, lifting a large thermos from the sled. “And Holly’s famous snowflake cookies.”
Emmy’s eyes went wide. “Snowflake cookies? Real ones?”
“As real as they get,” Holly promised, kneeling to Emmy’s level. “And I hear you’re new to Bear Creek? Well then, you simply must try one. It’s tradition.”
Holly wasted no time transforming a nearby hay bale into an impromptu Christmas picnic, spreading a red plaid blanket across it with practiced ease. “Everyone gather round,” she called, opening the thermos with a puff of fragrant steam. “Best way to celebrate finding the perfect tree.”
Sarah watched as the spread appeared like magic—hot chocolate poured into small paper cups, a bag of cinnamon twists that Holly swore were “just store-bought,” spiced nuts in a red tin, and bright clementines that released their sweet citrus scent as Noel peeled one for Emmy.
“Here you are, dear,” Holly pressed a steaming cup into Sarah’s hands. The warmth seeped through her gloves, welcome against the December chill. “How long are you planning to stay in Bear Creek? Pat mentioned you might be here for a while?”
“I’m not sure yet,” Sarah admitted, cupping the hot chocolate close. “It depends on work, really. And how Emmy settles in.”
“And how is she liking it so far?” Holly asked, her gaze drifting to where Emmy was showing Teddy how to balance a clementine segment on his nose, both children dissolving into giggles when it fell. “Any favorite spots yet?”
“She’s always loved the duck pond. And the library,” Sarah smiled. “Though I think North Peak Pines might take the lead today.”
Holly beamed at that, her eyes crinkling just like Michael’s did. Sarah wondered what it would be like to grow up in a place like this, with traditions that stretched back generations and parents who wore matching Christmas scarves without irony.
Noel came to stand beside them, nodding appreciatively at the tree waiting to be netted. “That’s a fine spruce you’ve chosen. Good balance.” He took a sip from his cup. “Reminds me of the year Michael saved the town square tree during that terrible ice storm. Must have been what, five years ago now?”
“Four,” Michael corrected, ducking his head slightly.
“The weight of the ice was bending branches to breaking,” Noel continued. “Michael climbed up there in the middle of the night with ropes and supports. Soaked through and freezing, but he wouldn’t come down until he’d shaken the ice off every branch.”
Sarah glanced at Michael, who seemed both embarrassed and pleased by his father’s story. “You saved the town Christmas tree?”
“It wasn’tthatdramatic,” Michael shrugged.
“He was out there for three hours in freezing rain,” Noel insisted proudly. “He saved Christmas.”
“It was nothing,” Michael said.
“You kind of did. So take the compliment.” Daniel laughed. “I told you it’s a parent’s prerogative to be proud of their kids.”
“I didn’t want the tree to fall down and hurt someone,” Michael said, with a glance at Sarah.
“You are a real town hero,” Sarah teased.
Sarah caught Daniel and Holly exchanging a tiny, satisfied look. The kind of look that instantly implied this was a case of classic small-town matchmaking. She felt her cheeks warm despite the cold air, and she laughed, both flattered and a little flustered by their transparent efforts.
“My turn to chop,” Daniel announced, breaking the moment as he picked up the axe. The kids gathered at a safe distance to watch, cheering as Daniel’s tree came down with a soft whoosh and a puff of displaced snow.
“We should make something for the stumps,” Maisie declared. “To say thank you to the trees.”
Emmy’s face lit up. “Like a star! We could use twigs!”
The children immediately set to work, gathering small twigs and arranging them into a crude but recognizable star shape on Sarah’s family’s tree stump.
“Look, Mom!” Emmy called. “The tree knows we’re thankful.”
“It’s perfect,” Sarah said, meaning it completely. Not just the star. But the whole morning, from the tree choosing to meeting Daniel and his children, and then Michael’s mom and dad. Not to mention the hot chocolate and sweet treats.
And Michael. He was the highlight of the morning. A man who threatened to restore her faith in men. Faith Liam had shaken harder than Michael had shaken the town tree to remove the ice.
Michael and his father worked in easy tandem to prepare both trees for transport, netting them efficiently with a practicedrhythm that spoke of years of shared work. Sarah found herself fascinated by how few words passed between them. They communicated with just a nod here, a gesture there, yet they moved in perfect coordination, handling the branches with surprising gentleness for such strong hands.
