“Shep… I don’t know what to say.”
With trembling hands, I lift out the most beautiful wooden cottage. The door and shutters are painted in red and green and tiny snowflakes are carved into the roof. When I turn it over, I discover it’s a music box. I wind the key on its underside, and it begins to play “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.”
Tears trickle down my cheeks as he sits beside me, drawing me close. His rigid posture loosens as I melt into his touch, relieved by my positive reaction. How could I not love the gift when it’s obvious he poured his heart into every detail.
I trace the outline of the cottage with my fingertip. “This is the most thoughtful gift anyone’s ever given me. When did you have time to make it?”
He’s spent time in his shop every morning, but the detailing tells me he must have poured countless hours into it.
“I started the day you told me about the Christmas village your grandpa built for your grandma. It was clear it was special to you—and how sad you were when several of the cottages were damaged when you were moving.” He pauses to reach out and wipe my tears with his thumb. “I know this one won’t match the original set, but I worried that if I asked for a picture, you’d catch on and it wouldn’t be a surprise.”
I turn to fully face him, lifting his hand to my lips, placing a soft kiss on each knuckle. A silent thank you for bringing a masterpiece to life.
“It’s perfect.” Music drifts through the room, and I meet his gaze, conveying more with my eyes than I ever could with words. “Thank you, Shep.”
Even when he insisted I’d have to leave after the snowstorm, he still went through the effort of making the cottage, even though there was no guarantee I’d ever receive it.
Shep has quickly become my confidant, and my safe place. He’s been my anchor in moments of doubt and uncertainty, and if I thought I was falling for him before, this moment sealed the deal. I’m certain now more than ever that I don’t want an expiration date on what we have. Whether we have another week, month or even years, it’ll never feel like enough time with him.
Some of my happiest memories came from living in a small town as a kid and visiting that farm in Upstate New York. As I grew older, I brushed it off as a childish fantasy, convinced the real world demanded that I chase deadlines and achieve career goals.
Being with Shep has opened my eyes to the possibility that maybe I don’t have to choose between pursuing my dream and living a peaceful existence with someone who adores me.
It’s obvious he cares for me deeply, but is it enough for him to make room long-term for a whirlwind of a city girl eager to give small-town life a try?
Shep moves our hands to his lap and leans in until our noses brush. “We’re going to make this your best Christmas yet.”
“Ourbest Christmas,” I murmur against his lips.
As promised, today has been nothing short of perfect. After breakfast, we visited Maple and the other animals, giving them extra carrots and apples for a Christmas treat.
In the afternoon, Casey and Amy dropped by with my gift for Shep. Amy and I had exchanged numbers at the diner, and I’d asked if she knew where to get a DVD player in town. I hadn’t expected much luck, but they came through, finding one at the hardware store of all places, and even picked up some DVDs that the movie rental shop had for sale. I was blown away by their generosity and willingness to help me.
To make this Christmas even better, my parents managed to call from a port in Italy. They’re loving their cruise, and I’m glad I talked them into going. They were relieved I wasn’t spending the holidays alone, and they even chatted with Shep for a few minutes. His answers were short yet polite, and thankfully, he left out the part where I showed up on his porch after booking a fake rental.
By the end of the call, my mom was asking when she’d get to meet him in person but neither Shep nor I had an answer.
It’s now late evening, and we’re cuddled up on the couch, the fire crackling while we watchThe Holiday. I’m nestled into his side, my head resting against his shoulder, his arm wrapped around me. His thumb idly traces patterns along my upper arm.
I couldn’t resist roping my grumpy mountain man into watching a romcom, and after he begrudgingly agreed, he’s now fully invested as we near the end. His lips twitch into a smile whenever Miles, played by Jack Black, cracks a joke or hums along to the film’s score.
During the part where Arthur’s in his study giving Iris advice, Shep comments, “That guy’s sharp as a tack. ‘You should be the leading lady of your own life’ is pure gold.”
I lift my head to look at him with a raised brow. “You’requoting Arthur now?”
“What can I say? Wisdom’s universal, especially coming from another cranky old man,” he says with a smirk.
I offer him a smile, but it falters after a few seconds.
Our playful banter is a bittersweet reminder that this could be our last full day together. He hasn’t said anything about me driving to Phoenix tomorrow, and I can’t bring myself to mention it, terrified he might not want the same thing I do. After all the memories we’ve made, especially the days leading up to Christmas, I’d like to think I know him well enough to trust that his feelings mirror mine, clinging to the hope that he doesn’t want to part ways either.
Shep visibly stiffens beside me when we reach the scene where Amanda Woods says goodbye to Graham. His hand tightens around my shoulder as a subtle tremor ripples through him when he watches Graham linger at the cottage doorstep.
He’s not the only one affected. Even after seeing this movie countless times, a knot still forms in my chest at the way Graham watches Amanda—eyes soft but desperate, like he’s memorizing her face in case he never sees her again. And this time it hits harder, because the goodbye is shadowed by the one waiting for Shep and me.
I’m snapped from my melancholy thoughts when he pauses the movie.
I push myself off his chest into a sitting position and turn to face him. “Don’t you want to finish it? I promise it has a happy ending.”
