They were cousins, sure—technically. Their dads were brothers, but that was about the only thing they had in common. Spencer had been raised by Grandpa Wallace from the time he was an infant, while Malcolm grew up in town with his parents, always acting like he was owed something. Everyone knew the ranch would go to Spencer. It wasn’t even a question. Grandpa had made it clear in every way that Spencer was the one who’d carry on the legacy.
Still, Malcolm never let it go. They’d fought constantly as kids—over horses, chores, attention, anything. Spencer could still remember the time Malcolm had tried to ride Maple without permission and got bucked off. Spencer had laughed. Malcolm had punched him. That pretty much summed up their dynamic.
They had spoken little in years, and Spencer preferred it that way. Malcolm was married now, had a son and a daughter, and still acted like the ranch should’ve been his. Spencer didn’t trust him, didn’t like him, and definitely didn’t want him showing up with some business excuse.
What business? He probably wants to talk about buying the ranch. Again.
The letter from Grandpa still sat heavy in his pocket, and Spencer had a sinking feeling Malcolm already knew about it. Aunt Millie probably told him. She’d never been subtle about her loyalties. Malcolm, her favorite nephew, was the subject of her constant praise, and she made sure everyone knew it, especially Spencer.
Spencer stared out the window at the snow-covered pasture, trying to calm the storm brewing in his chest. He didn’t want to fight. Not today. Not during Christmas. But if Malcolm came in swinging, Spencer wasn’t going to back down.
He’d given everything to this ranch. And he wasn’t about to let Malcolm walk in and act like it was up for grabs. Not now. Not ever.
“Is he bringing the family or coming alone?” Spencer asked.
“I said he was coming for business, so that means alone, dear.”
Spencer nodded. She got on his last nerve. Her dismissal of his friends and Jamie made him clench his fists under the table and silently shout hateful words. Just to annoy her, he leaned over to Jamie and whispered, “I love you.” Then he slipped a quick kiss onto Jamie’s cheek. And just as Spencer had thought,Aunt Millie picked up her plate and carried it to the kitchen without another word.
Jamie and Alfie laughed without making a sound. Across the table, Nathan and Spencer shared a fist bump, the sound echoing in the room.
After they finished eating, they moved to the living room. It looked like a holiday dream—soft lights twinkling on the tree, garland draped across the mantle, and a pile of wrapped presents stacked neatly beneath the branches. Spencer sat cross-legged on the rug, watching as Jamie, Nathan, and Alfie settled in around him. The fire crackled gently, and the scent of pine hung in the air.
Each gift was wrapped with care—some in shiny red paper with gold ribbon, others in matte green with rustic twine. Alfie had gone all out with glittery bows, while Nathan’s wrapping style leaned toward clean lines and crisp folds. Spencer’s were a mix—some perfectly wrapped, others clearly rushed but heartfelt. Clearly he did online shopping, and some Nathan shipped to his ranch. Jamie must have gone online with Alfie because he hadn’t seen him purchase anything.
Nathan handed Spencer a large, flat box wrapped in navy paper with silver stars. Spencer peeled back the tape, careful not to rip the wrapping, and lifted the lid. Inside was a photo album, thick and leather-bound, filled with pictures from their time in the band—laughing backstage, performing under stage lights, crashing in hotel rooms. Tucked inside was a USB drive labeled Final Show. Spencer blinked hard, throat tight.
“Damn,” he said softly. “You guys really went for it.”
Nathan grinned. “We figured you’d want to remember the chaos.”
Spencer appreciated the gift because to avoid his grandfather’s disapproving eye, he hadn’t taken anything with him when he returned to the ranch. Nathan had known that too.
Alfie handed Jamie a box wrapped in bright blue paper with a silver bow. Jamie tore into it with wide eyes and a grin, revealing a Nintendo Switch Lite, the console, and controller.
“No way!” Jamie laughed. “You guys are the best.”
Spencer handed Nathan a long, narrow box wrapped in plaid paper. Nathan opened it to find a brand-new electric dart set, sleek and sharp.
“Finally,” Nathan said, holding it up. “My old one was basically a hazard.”
Alfie’s gift was next—a matching Switch Lite console and controller in red. He fist-pumped and immediately started talking about game nights.
Then came Jamie’s turn again. Spencer handed him a stack of gifts—books wrapped in craft paper with twine, jeans and sweaters folded neatly in tissue paper inside a gift bag, and a photo album wrapped in soft gold paper. Jamie opened the album slowly, flipping through pictures from Big Bear—snowball fights, cuddles by the fire, sleepy selfies. His smile faded into something more emotional.
Spencer handed him one last envelope, tucked inside a small box with a velvet ribbon. Jamie opened it and pulled out a photo of Daisy, the chestnut mare.
“She’s yours,” Spencer said. “Your own horse.”
Jamie stared at the photo, stunned. “Spencer…”
“And this,” Spencer added, handing him a sleek white box. Inside was an iPad, already loaded with books, music, and photos.
Jamie looked overwhelmed, eyes glassy. “You didn’t have to do all this.”
Spencer shrugged, trying to play it cool. “I wanted to.”
Jamie handed Spencer his wrapped gift—a large photo album, blank and ready to be filled. Inside the cover, he’dwritten, “Let’s make this ours.” He also gave Spencer a pair of soft gray sweats, perfect for lazy mornings.
