Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

S cott stood in his workshop, the scent of fresh cedar and pinewood filling the air as he ran his fingers over a smooth block of wood. The afternoon sunlight streaming through the wide windows cast a golden glow across the neatly arranged tools and stacks of lumber. It was his favorite time of day, a quiet moment to lose himself in a project. Today, though, his mind wasn’t fully on the work.

He traced the rough outline of a reindeer he’d sketched onto the wood, a small smile tugging at his lips. The idea had come to him last night after dinner. It was a simple ornament for Ruby, with Cupid’s name etched into the side. He could already imagine the way her eyes would light up when she saw it, how she’d clutch it tightly and probably insist on showing it to everyone she met.

As he guided the wood beneath his carving tool, his thoughts wandered to Megan. She’d said yes. Not just to the dinner invitation, but to something more—a small opening of the door she seemed so determined to keep closed. Her cautious smile and quiet gratitude replayed in his mind, and he felt a warmth he hadn’t experienced in a long time.

He paused, setting the carving tool down to inspect his progress. The reindeer’s shape was coming together, its rounded edges soft and inviting, just as he’d envisioned. Picking up a finer tool, Scott began etching Cupid’s name into the side, careful not to rush the delicate lettering.

As he worked, memories of his own childhood Christmases surfaced. His parents had tried so hard to make the season special, but the truth was, there hadn’t been much to go around. He could still picture the little tree they used year after year, its sparse branches strung with paper garlands he and Kara had made with construction paper scraps from school.

The Callahan house had been warm in spirit, but lean in every other way. Christmas morning often meant one or two small presents—a pair of socks, a hand-me-down toy, or something his mom had sewn or knitted. He remembered how his mom’s hands trembled one year as she handed him a wrapped package, her smile bright but her eyes wet with unshed tears. Inside had been a wooden train she’d picked up secondhand and painstakingly repaired. He had loved it instantly, though even as a boy, he’d sensed the strain behind her smile.

The hardest part was the moments they weren’t supposed to notice—his mom at the kitchen table late at night, her head bowed and shoulders shaking quietly as she stared at an empty ledger. Or his dad sighing heavily as he returned from a double shift, his voice low as he murmured, “Maybe next year we can do a little more.”

Scott’s chest tightened at the memories. His parents had given everything they could, their love filling the spaces where material gifts couldn’t. But he’d always understood the weight of what they carried, the quiet heartbreak of not being able to give their kids the Christmas they truly deserved.

It was those memories that had stayed with him, that drove him to put on the red suit and white beard each year. Being Santa wasn’t about playing a part; it was about creating the magic he knew some kids might never have at home. The joy of seeing their eyes light up when they unwrapped a gift, the wonder in their voices as they whispered their wishes to Santa—all of it felt like a chance to give them the kind of Christmas his parents had always dreamed of giving him and Kara.

He paused, the wooden ornament in his hands smooth and warm from his touch. It was a small thing, just a reindeer with “Cupid” etched into its side, but to Ruby, it would mean the world. He’d seen the way her face lit up around Cupid, how she radiated joy and wonder. And Megan... Megan had reminded him of the beauty in giving, not just to kids, but to people who carried their own quiet struggles.

Scott set the ornament aside, a faint smile pulling at his lips. His parents might not have had much, but they’d taught him the true meaning of Christmas: that it wasn’t about the gifts under the tree, but about the love and care shared in the moments that mattered. It was a lesson he carried with him every time he walked into Santa’s Village, every time he saw a child’s face light up with hope and joy.

That was why he did this. Why he’d keep doing this. For kids like him, for parents like his had been, and for himself—to honor what his family had given him, even when it had cost them more than he could understand at the time.

He ran a piece of sandpaper over the ornament, smoothing the edges as his thoughts shifted back to Megan and Ruby.

They’d blown into his life when he least expected it. Megan’s quiet strength and the way she fiercely loved her daughter reminded him of the values his parents had instilled in him. Ruby’s laughter and bright curiosity had a way of filling even the quietest corners of his heart.

Setting the finished ornament aside, Scott leaned against his workbench, letting out a thoughtful sigh.

This Christmas felt different. For years, he’d focused on bringing joy to the island, on being the Santa figure everyone could count on. But Megan and Ruby had stirred something deeper, a desire for connection that went beyond the season.

Scott picked up the ornament, turning it over in his hands. Maybe this Christmas wasn’t just about giving joy to others. Maybe it was about letting himself feel it, too.

A small, hopeful smile curved his lips as he placed the ornament into a velvet-lined box. He didn’t know where things might lead, but for the first time in a long while, Scott felt like he wasn’t just counting down the days to Christmas.

He was looking forward to something more.

Scott pushed open the door to the hardware store, the familiar scent of sawdust and industrial cleaner greeting him as he stepped inside. The aisles were brightly lit, and the faint strains of holiday music played overhead. He tugged his list from his pocket—a short one this time. A few strings of lights, a new extension cord, and replacement stakes for the Santa’s Village signs.

Grabbing a basket, he headed toward the back of the store, weaving through the aisles with practiced ease. As he passed the seasonal section, a flash of red caught his eye. He paused mid-step and glanced over to see Megan standing near a display of holiday lights, holding two boxes and looking deeply contemplative.

Scott couldn’t resist. He approached with a grin, leaning casually against the endcap. “You know, I didn’t think elf duties included decorating your own workshop.”

Megan turned, startled at first, but her expression softened when she saw him. “Very funny,” she said, rolling her eyes. “And it’s not for my ‘workshop.’ It’s for the bungalow. Ruby insists we need more lights.”

Scott crossed his arms, his grin widening. “Sounds like she’s got the right idea. What’s the debate?”

Megan held up the two boxes. “Classic white or multicolored? Ruby wants multicolored, but I’m leaning toward classic.”

Scott tilted his head, pretending to mull it over seriously. “Go with multicolored. Christmas is supposed to be fun, not a catalog shoot.”

Megan laughed, the sound light and easy. “All right, Santa. I’ll take your word for it.” She dropped the white lights back onto the shelf, tucking the multicolored box into her basket. “At least I don’t dress like Santa in my downtime.” She pointed to the red flannel he’d thrown on.

“Careful,” Scott said, his grin turning playful. “You might end up on the naughty list with talk like that.”

They both laughed, and Megan relaxed visibly, her shoulders dropping as the banter eased her usual guardedness.

“What brings you here?” she asked as they began to stroll toward the next aisle, her basket swinging lightly in her hand.

“Just grabbing a few things for the Santa Village,” Scott replied, gesturing vaguely with his list. “Nothing as exciting as decking out a bungalow for Christmas.”

Megan smirked. “I wouldn’t call this exciting. More like Ruby convincing me she’s running her own holiday design team.”

Scott chuckled. “She’s got good taste. And you’re doing a great job keeping up.”

Megan glanced at him, her expression softening at the sincerity in his tone. “Thanks,” she said quietly.

They walked together, their conversation flowing naturally as they wandered through the aisles. When Megan’s basket began to fill up with additional holiday decorations—a wreath, some ribbon, and a pack of ornaments—Scott offered to carry it.

“You sure?” Megan asked, though she handed it over without much protest.

“Absolutely,” he said, shifting the basket to his arm as if it weighed nothing. “What kind of Santa would I be if I let you carry everything?”

“Generous and well-rested,” Megan quipped, earning another laugh from him.

As they approached the checkout, the festive decorations continued overhead, and Scott’s gaze caught on a sprig of mistletoe dangling above them. His grin turned mischievous as he tilted his head upward.

“Uh-oh,” he said, stopping in his tracks.

Megan frowned, following his gaze. “What?”

“Looks like we’re standing under mistletoe,” Scott said lightly, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “And I’m pretty sure it’s store policy to follow tradition.”

Megan’s cheeks flushed, and she laughed nervously. “I don’t think that’s a rule.”

Scott shrugged, his expression open and teasing. “Maybe not, but it’s bad luck to ignore it, isn’t it?”

Megan looked up at him, her eyes wide and her lips parting slightly as the humor in the moment gave way to something else. The air between them shifted, growing warmer and quieter, the noise of the store fading into the background.

Scott leaned in slightly, his movements unhurried and careful, giving her plenty of time to pull away if she wanted. His gaze met hers, steady and sincere, his lips curving into a faint smile.

For a moment, Megan stayed rooted in place, her breath catching as the space between them seemed to shrink. But just as the tension built, she stepped back abruptly, breaking the moment.

“I—uh—I should get going,” she said quickly, her voice tight as she reached for her bags.

Scott straightened, stepping back to give her space, though his own chest tightened at her retreat. “No pressure,” he said gently, his smile soft. “I’m just glad I ran into you tonight.”

Megan paused, her expression conflicted before she offered him a faint smile. “Okay.”

She turned and hurried toward the door, her pace brisk as though she were escaping something she couldn’t quite name.

Scott stood under the mistletoe for a moment longer, the playful energy of the moment fading into something more bittersweet. He shifted the basket in his hand, exhaling slowly as he glanced toward the exit.

“She’s not ready,” he told himself, his lips pressing into a faint smile tinged with disappointment.

He headed toward the register, the warmth of their earlier banter still lingering, tempered by the knowledge that Megan’s walls were still firmly in place. For now, he resolved to keep showing up, one small gesture at a time, hoping that eventually, she might trust him enough to let him in.