Theo nods sharply, his expression deadly serious.
"So the three of us sat down two days ago…right after you signed the contract with Evergreen Media…and talked about how to help you build actual financial independence. Not just throwing money at you, but setting up real foundations for long-term stability."
"We inquired with Millbrook Community Bank about getting our Omega a credit card of her own," I continue. "Applied on your behalf using the personal information and documentation from your contract with Evergreen Media, which actually helped significantly with the approval process. Your social media presence, even before going viral today, showed consistent engagement and income potential."
Theo shifts his gym bag higher on his shoulder, the leather strap creaking slightly.
"That was the real reason I drove to Millbrook this morning instead of staying in Oakridge for my workout. Needed to pick up the physical card from the bank before they closed for theday. Called Nash yesterday, asked him to swing by as backup just in case I didn't make it in time due to my gym schedule running long, but turned out my timing worked perfectly."
He points to the card still clutched in her trembling hand like it might disappear if she loosens her grip.
"It has no spending limit. None. Use it for whatever you need…clothes that actually fit and make you feel good, professional camera equipment for better content creation, lighting setups, editing software subscriptions, groceries, gas for traveling to other small towns, books from that independent bookstore you love, craft supplies for whatever hobbies make you happy. Whatever you need or want."
"Don't worry about the payments or monthly bills," I add firmly. "Whatever you spend will be cleared by us at the end of every month. The three of us split it equally. That's not negotiable and it's not a loan. You're not paying us back."
"The critical part," Theo continues, "is that paying off the balance monthly in full builds your credit score rapidly. Your name on the card, consistent usage, perfect payment history—all of that creates a financial profile. Do this consistently for six months and you'll not only be able to get additional cards in your name with different banks, but you'll be eligible for business loans with favorable interest rates, car loans without requiring cosigners, eventual mortgage applications when you're ready."
"All the financial tools most people take years to build," I explain, wanting her to truly understand the full scope of what we're giving her. "You'll have them in half a year. Six months of consistent credit building and you'll have options. Real options. Independence that can't be taken away by anyone."
Reverie seems completely speechless.
Her mouth opens and closes repeatedly but no words emerge. Her eyes are shimmering with unshed tears thatcatch the weak winter sunlight. Her scent shifts to something overwhelmed and grateful and disbelieving all at once.
I continue, my voice softening even further because I can see how close she is to breaking down.
"I remember you mentioning the other day at the diner that you love to bake. That your grandmother taught you all her recipes before she passed. I know you pick up odd jobs here and there helping out Hazel at Sweet Haven Bakery when she needs extra hands during busy seasons or when she's short-staffed."
"But this—" I gesture to the credit card "—this gives you the foundation to potentially start your own business if that's something you want to pursue. Your own baking business. Making your grandmother's recipes available to more people. Selling at farmer's markets in different towns, online through social media, maybe eventually opening your own shop or operating a home-based commercial kitchen."
"Building credit makes all of that financially accessible and realistic," Theo adds, his voice losing some of its usual gruff edge. "Eventually you can finance commercial-grade kitchen equipment—professional ovens, industrial mixers, proper refrigeration. Get a business vehicle with your name on the registration—one of those cute vintage trucks or vans you're always photographing and sharing on your content. That would be critically important if this small-town travel content strategy takes off the way we all think it will."
"You could combine both," I suggest, the idea forming even as I speak. "Travel content and baking business. Visit small towns, document their Christmas traditions and local charm, sell your baked goods at their markets. Build both brands simultaneously. The travel content brings followers, the baking gives you additional income streams and business credibility."
She tries to speak again but the words catch painfully in her throat.
A single tear escapes, rolling slowly down her flushed cheek and catching the light.
I reach out instinctively—can't help myself—cupping her face gently with my free hand while keeping Snowfall's reins secure in the other. My thumb catches the tear carefully, wiping it away with tenderness I didn't know I was capable of showing someone I've known for less than a week.
Her skin is incredibly soft and warm despite the December cold biting at all of us.
I can feel her pulse fluttering rapidly beneath my palm where it rests against her jaw.
She looks so small right now. Vulnerable. Like she can't quite believe this is real, that someone would do this for her without expecting something in return. My chest aches with the need to protect her from ever feeling that way again.
"Wow," she whispers, her voice breaking slightly on the single syllable. More tears threaten to spill. "You guys really thought this through. All of it. Every detail. The credit building, the business opportunities, the path to independence. You planned this together. For me."
"We did," I confirm simply, honestly, holding her gaze so she can see the truth in my eyes. "Because you're our Omega. Even if it's temporary based on the six-week contract terms, even if you decide after Christmas that you want to move on and find a different pack or stay independent, that doesn't change the fundamental fact that right now, in this moment, you're part of our pack. And we take care of our own. Always."
I take her hand—the one not death-gripping the credit card like a lifeline—and wrap it securely in mine. Her fingers are cold from the winter air, small and delicate compared to my larger, work-calloused ones.
Then I gather Snowfall's leather reins more firmly in my other hand and start walking slowly down the sidewalk, gently tugging Reverie along beside me.
Millbrook's main street spreads out before us—charming storefronts with their Christmas decorations twinkling in the afternoon light, people bundled in winter coats carrying shopping bags, the smell of cinnamon and coffee drifting from the nearby café. It's the kind of picture-perfect small town that makes people nostalgic for simpler times.
Snowfall walks calmly beside us, her hooves making soft clopping sounds on the pavement. She's completely relaxed now, all her earlier stubbornness gone. Sometimes horses just need the right handler.
Sometimes Omegas need the right pack. Someone who sees their value, who protects without controlling, who builds them up instead of tearing them down.
