And across the room, Ruugar held court at a corner table, Beth beside him with tiny Noma cradled in her arms. The newest member of Lonesome Creek, born on Christmas Eve, was now the center of the community’s attention.
“There they are,” Aunt Inla called when she spotted us.
All eyes turned to us, and I felt Becken tense beside me. He wasn’t used to being under so much scrutiny.
“How are things?” Holly asked, her expression hopeful.
“I’m staying,” I shouted in a happy voice.
A cheer rose from every corner of the room.
“I knew it,” Grannie Lil shouted from her place near the fireplace. “I told you all she was one of us.”
Lavon emerged from the kitchen, a towel slung over his shoulder. “This calls for a special toast. The holiday punch is ready.”
Glasses were filled and passed around, and Becken and I found ourselves in the center of a circle of family, raising drinks in celebration.
“To Carla,” Dungar lifted his glass. “Who came to consult but stayed to belong.”
“To Carla,” the room echoed.
I blinked back tears, overwhelmed by the affection surrounding me. “Thank you all.”
We settled at a table, and the celebration continued, food appearing as if by magic. Lavon’s holiday specialties sat alongside traditional human Christmas dishes. Conversation flowed, punctuated by laughter and occasional singing when someone started a Christmas carol.
Becken remained at my side, his presence a constant reminder of the choice I’d made. His hand found mine under the table, and he squeezed it, leaning over to give me a heady kiss.
“Happy?” he asked as he lifted his head.
I looked around at the gathering, at Beth holding Noma while Ruugar watched with adoration. At Lavon bringing Aunt Inla a plate he’d prepared just for her. At Max showing Holly the sorhox cookie he’d decorated. At all these people who had claimed me as their own.
Then I looked at Becken, this serious, gentle male who’d given me back Christmas and offered me a future I’d never dared imagine.
“I’m happier than I ever knew was possible,” I said.
For the first time in my life, I wasn’t watching Christmas through someone else’s window. I wasn’t the outsider, the temporary guest, or the professional passing through.
I was sitting with the people I loved.
Chapter 27
Epilogue
CARLA
Summer sunshine came through the windows of our new ranch house, bathing the wooden floors in golden light. Six months had transformed Lonesome Creek from a winter wonderland to a lush paradise, wildflowers carpeting the surrounding meadows and trees heavy with leaves. The change in seasons mirrored the change in my life from temporary consultant to permanent resident, from professional nomad to a woman with roots.
And what deep roots they’d become.
“That’s the last box,” Becken said, setting a cardboard container labeled kitchen on the counter. Sweat glistened on his forehead from the June heat, his t-shirt clinging to muscles earned from a lifetime of hard work. “Unless you’re hiding more in that tiny hotel room.”
“No more boxes.” I smiled, crossing the room to open the windows wider. A warm breeze carried the scent of pine and summer grass. “It’s hard to believe everything I own fits in the back of one wagon.”
“Not everything you own.” He gestured around the two-bedroom ranch house we’d spent months building. “This is yours too. Ours.”
Pride swelled in my chest as I looked around at what we’d created together. The big living room with a stone fireplace and comfortable furniture. The kitchen with the breakfast nook where I already imagined sharing morning tea with my mate. The master bedroom with its orc-sized bed built to accommodate Becken’s height.
Every board, every nail, and every finishing touch represented not only our work, but our family’s investment in our future. Ruugar and Ostor had framed the structure. Tark designed and constructed the built-in cabinets. Hail selected the bathroom fixtures and installed them. Even a few tourists had contributed, signing a supporting beam with well wishes when they learned who the house was for.
