Page 43 of My Secret Santa Daddies

Sierra mostly keeps to herself, focusing on time with Jack or disappearing into her room after meals. But every now and then, I’d catch glimpses of her when she thought no one was looking. She wasn’t avoiding us as much as I thought she might, though. At least not entirely.

The place was also starting to feel a little more like a home and less like a construction site. At least, when we weren’t tripping over the tools scattered around on the floors, or cursing at the ancient wiring that refused to cooperate.

On the third morning, I make my way downstairs early, expecting the usual quiet stillness.

I glance out the window as I pour a cup of coffee, the snow was still coming down hard. Another full day of white, but I can feel it in my bones—the storm was starting to ease.

I’m taking my first sip of coffee when Sierra and Jack appear at the top of the stairs, covered in dust and grinning like they’d just found a treasure trove.

“Look what we found!” Jack shouts, his little voice full of excitement as he clutches an old cardboard box that’s almost bigger than him, to his chest. “Christmas stuff!”

Sierra follows behind him, her hands full of a tangled string of old Christmas lights and what looks like a bunch of fadedgarlands. Her face is flushed and smiling. For a second, it feels like a different version of her.

“We went up to the attic and found some old decorations,” she says, her voice a little breathless, and a spark in her eyes that hasn’t been there the last few days. “I figured, since we’re stuck here and it’s still snowing... maybe it’s time to bring some Christmas cheer into this place.”

I raise an eyebrow, setting my coffee down on the counter as I lean back against the kitchen island. “You want to decorate the lodge?”

Sierra shrugs, a little self-conscious as she looks down at the box in Jack’s hands. “Yeah. Why not? The place could use some cheer, don’t you think? And I mean it’s not fair to Jack.”

“Sure. You’re doing it for the kid.”

“Shut up!”

“Dad! We’re decorating!”

Griffin steps into the room, rubbing the back of his neck as he surveys the pile of decorations with a furrowed brow. “We’re still knee-deep in renovations bud. The place is a mess,”

Jack’s little face takes on a puppy dog expression and his eyes are full of pleading as he looks up at his dad. “Please, Dad! Can we? Sierra says we can make it look like Santa’s workshop!”

I stifle a laugh at Griffin’s hesitation. Jack has a way of getting what he wants, and Griffin knows it. With a sigh, Griffin shakes his head, unable to resist his kid’s enthusiasm. “Alright. But no climbing up on anything, Jack.”

By midday, the main room’s strung with lights and garlands, while the slightly musty scent of pine fills the air from the old wreaths. By the time Jack and Sierra are done, the place looks like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting—if Norman Rockwell had ever imagined a half-finished lodge covered in construction dust.

Sierra steps back, hands on her hips as she surveys the room. “Not bad,” she says, her voice full with quiet satisfaction.

She pulls more decorations out of the box, her mood all morning has been noticeably lighter. It was almost strange, seeing her like this—relaxed, playful even. “It’s too bad we don’t have a Christmas tree.”

“There’s nowhere to put it,” Griffin grumbles as he passes by them in the hall. “This place is already crammed with tools and junk.”

“Who knew we had the Grinch with us,” Wyatt says, poking at the fire, his face lighting up with a grin.

I can’t help myself. Smiling widely, I belt out “You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch,” making sure my voice echoes through the lodge. “Your heart’s an empty hole!”

Griffin shouts back from the kitchen. “Cody,shut up!”

Wyatt chuckles, and Sierra shakes her head, her smile lingering as she glances between us. Jack’s excitement only grows at the idea of a tree, and his eyes go wide with hope.

“There is one more big box up in the attic,” Sierra says, her voice thoughtful. “It was too heavy for me to carry down by myself. Maybe there’s a tree in there, Jack?”

Jack’s eyes light up, like he’s found a hidden treasure. “I hope so! Then we can decorate it with a star!”

I laugh and wipe my hands on a rag before turning to her. “Once I’m done laying the backsplash tile, I’ll grab the box for you, alright?”

“Thanks, Cody.”

She smiles down at Jack. “Let’s hope it’s not another box full of tinsel.”

By the time night falls, Wyatt and Griffin have already turned in, worn out from the day’s work. Jack’s tucked into bed, still talking about finding the Christmas tree and Sierra and I head up to the attic.

---