Page 68 of Lone Wolf in Lights
“Thank you,” Willow replied, her smile genuine. “Each piece sold goes to the women’s shelter to help over the holidays.”
“Oh, how wonderful,” the woman beamed. “I’ll take this one.”
“Excellent. Thank you.” Willow carefully wrapped the reindeer in tissue paper and handed it to the woman, who paid her with a generous tip and a heartfelt thank-you.
As Willow checked her out, her parents emerged through the throngs of marketgoers. Her mother’s cheeks were rosy from the brisk air, her father’s broad shoulders wrapped in a cozy old scarf that he’d owned for as long as Willow could remember.
“Hey, hon!” her mother called out.
“Hi!” Willow greeted, her heart lifting at the sight of them. They approached her booth with open arms, enveloping her in an embrace that felt like home.
“This market is amazing,” her dad said, his eyes twinkling like the Christmas lights strung above their heads. “No wonder you girls wanted to live here.”
“It’s an absolutely charming town,” her mother chimed in, admiring the array of handcrafted ornaments and wreaths adorning the booth. “As is your bar. Look at it, all glowing, and so many people over there.”
“Couldn’t have done it without Charly and Aubrey,” Willow replied, gesturing to her friends.
“Speaking of which, we promised to help them out,” her father mentioned. “Got to keep those customers warm and happy!”
“Don’t drink all the wine,” she called.
Her parents just waved her off. They’d totally drink the wine.
Warmth consumed her, watching as her parents joined forces with Charly and Aubrey, their laughter mingling together. They fit right into the market, her father’s booming chuckles drawing in passersby while her mother charmed anyone who walked up.
Her chest expanded with a sense of pride watching them. Yet as the moments passed, her gaze returned to her own booth—modest in comparison to the bustle around her—and the pang of disappointment gnawed at her once more. Each craft sold was a triumph, yet the pile seemed too small, the impact too limited.
She shook off the unsettling thought, forcing her attention back to the present. This was what mattered: the smiles, the shared joy, the collective effort to make a difference. Any money helped, no matter how much.
Right then, something tickled her consciousness. Amidst the sea of merrymakers, a sudden shift caught her attention—a cluster of curious glances and parted waves in the crowd. Then Eli, emerging from the crowd. He was hefting two boxes that looked ready to burst, his stride confident yet unassuming as if he were merely another vendor arriving late to the party. But the rugged lines of his jaw set him apart, as did the intensity in his eyes that found hers across the distance.
His smile caught her breath in her throat, as he closed in, “Hope I’m not too late for the festivities,” he said.
“Late?” Willow repeated. This wasn’t part of the plan—Eli, here, with boxes. “What’s going on?”
“Got a little somethin’ for your cause,” Eli said, a lopsided grin tugging at his lips as he set down the boxes with a thud. He opened the first box, revealing a flash of metal. “The cowboys and their better halves, Jaxon, Gunner and I, and really anyone we could rope in to help, put these together for you. You know, to help.”
Willow gasped as Eli lifted a wreath from the box. The craftsmanship was undeniable; each wreath shaped like a horse’s head, the twigs and evergreens meticulously woven in beautifully.
“Wow...” The word fell from Willow’s lips.
“We made these too. To add a little piece of the ranch in there,” Eli continued, his excitement infectious as he lifted an old horseshoe that was wrapped in ribbons of deep red and forest green, tiny silver bells chiming softly.
“Eli,” Willow whispered, finally finding her voice. She glanced up at him, his presence suddenly filling her with a warmth that seemed to right her world. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” he said. “Let’s get them put out and sell them.”
She held his gaze, her heart in her throat. “Thank you,” she whispered, teary-eyed. “Not just for the crafts, but for being here—for being a part of this...with me.” The words fell easily. Because if she looked deep into her heart, she knew, tonight wouldn’t be right without Eli there.
He stepped closer, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth—a smile that told her all she needed to know. “Where else would I be, Willow?”
Eli surveyed the Christmas market with a sense of quiet pride. His plan to help Willow had all come together and worked, and for that he was grateful. The last light bulb around Willow’s hut flickered off. Beside him, she stood with an equal measure of satisfaction and sweetness etched into her features. Her eyes reflected the twinkling lights that still adorned the trees lining the market square.
“Looks like it was a success, huh?” Eli said, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“More than just a success,” Willow replied. “We’ve raised over three thousand dollars for the shelter, and then we’ve got your five grand from the rodeo.” She turned to him, taking a step closer. “Couldn’t have done it without you bringing the new crafts today.”
The paper cuts, the exhaustion, it was all worth it for that sweet look on her face. “It was a group effort for sure.”
