My Secret Santa Axton (Silver Ridge Christmas)

11. A Simple Silver Frame

A Simple Silver Frame

MEL

Kids make Christmas magical .

I stand in the kitchen, flour dusting my hands, watching Amir's face light up as he presses a cookie cutter into the dough. His giggles mix with the Christmas music playing softly in the background, a stark contrast to the worry that's been gnawing at me for days.

"Look, Miss Mel!" Amir holds up a lopsided star, beaming with pride. "It's for Mommy when she comes back."

My heart clenches. I force a smile. "It's perfect, sweetie. She'll love it."

Across the room, Zoe sits with Harper and Hazel, stringing popcorn for the tree. Her eyes dart to Amir, then back to her task, a shadow of concern beyond her years crossing her face.

Mamma catches my eye, giving a small nod. We've had this conversation a dozen times since Lena disappeared. How much do we tell the kids? How do we balance hope with reality?

My folks are saints. They agreed to take care of Amir and Zoe until . I swear they're the most loving and selfless people I know, with hearts as big as the entire universe.

Time doesn't matter to them, whether it's a week or a lifetime, they'd still open their arms and their home without a second thought.

"Alright, cookie monsters," Kenzie announces, clapping flour-covered hands. "Time to get these in the oven!"

As the kids scramble to finish their creations, I slip away to the sink, needing a moment. The water runs hot over my hands, washing away dough and worry alike.

"You holding up okay, Mel-bell?" Daddy's deep voice rumbles behind me.

I turn, leaning against the counter. "I'm fine. Just... thinking."

He raises an eyebrow, unconvinced. "About a certain demolition expert who's been MIA lately?"

Heat creeps up my neck. "I'm worried about the bunkhouse project," I deflect. "Axton's crew is doing great, but..."

"But you're wondering where he's disappeared to," Daddy finishes, his eyes kind. "Have you tried calling him?"

I shake my head. "Straight to voicemail. I figured he was just busy with work."

Daddy's quiet for a moment, his gaze drifting to where Mamma's helping Amir place cookies on a baking sheet. "You know, your Mamma and I didn't happen overnight."

I blink, surprised by the change in topic. "What do you mean?"

He chuckles, leaning in conspiratorially. "I wrote to her for years before she showed up on that bus. Patience and faith, Mel. That's what real love is built on."

His words settle over me, a mix of comfort and frustration. "But Daddy, how long am I supposed to wait? Axton's not exactly the letter-writing type."

Daddy's eyes crinkle with amusement. "No, I suppose he's not. But that boy's carrying around a whole lot of hurt, Mel. Sometimes, loving someone means giving them the space to heal."

I bite my lip, mulling over his words. The oven timer dings, filling the kitchen with the smell of warm sugar and cinnamon.

"First batch is ready!" Mamma calls out, and the kids come running.

As I watch my family—chosen and blood—crowd around the cooling rack, something shifts inside me. The warmth of this moment, the love that fills every corner of this house... it makes me feel selfish for wanting more.

I wipe down the kitchen counters, trying to wrangle all the excess flour. These kids got more flour on the counter than in the cookies.

I shake my head and let my thoughts travel to the man who lives in my head rent-free.

Axton's absence has allowed me the room to clear my thoughts, and the fuck him part of me ain't so mad. Leaving room to really think about things. I realize now that I've been holding onto an image of Axton that no longer exists. The boy who kissed me at The Old Mill and before he left for the military isn't the man who came back.

And that's okay. People change. I've changed, too.

I've been so caught up in what I thought we could be, I forgot to see who we are now.

Axton never promised me anything beyond those letters. I'm the one who filled in the blanks, who built up this whole fantasy in my head.

But that doesn't mean I don't miss my friend. The Axton I knew, the one who made me laugh and feel safe... he's still in there somewhere. And maybe, if I'm honest with myself, I haven't been the best friend to him either.

Daddy's words gave me something to ponder, and my curious mind latched on.

I've been so focused on my own hurt, I never stopped to think about what Axton might be going through. What demons he might be fighting. Because try as I might, I can't remember anything about his family—gossip, stories, nothing.

I know his parents are Nancy and Bill O'Connor. He has a sister, Emma, and a brother, Trevor. But I haven't seen or heard any of them since…

I stop and dry my hands on my jeans. The last time I saw any of them was right before Axton left. That can't be a coincidence.

I lock eyes with Dad. And suddenly, I know what I have to do.

"I need to find him," I whisper.

He squeezes my shoulder. "Then go, honey. Just be careful. Storm's rolling in tonight."

I nod, determination settling over me like a familiar coat. "I will. I just... I need answers."

As I grab my keys and coat, Kenzie catches my eye. She doesn't say anything, just gives me a knowing smile and a thumbs up.

The drive up to Axton's cabin feels longer than usual, each turn in the road amplifying my nerves. What if he's not there? What if he is, but he shuts me out again?

Snow starts to fall as I pull up to the cabin, fat flakes swirling in my headlights. The windows are dark, but smoke curls from the chimney.

He's here.

The snow intensifies as I navigate the winding mountain road, my truck's headlights cutting through the thickening curtain of white. The wipers struggle to keep up, smearing more than clearing. I grip the steering wheel tighter.

Axton's cabin emerges from the gloom, a solid silhouette against the storm-darkened sky. The windows are black, lifeless, but a thin ribbon of smoke rises from the chimney, twisting in the wind before disappearing into the night.

My heart skips. He's here .

I ease off the gas as the incline steepens, tires spinning for purchase on the slick road. The truck slides, fishtailing slightly, and I mutter a curse.

"Come on, girl. Don't fail me now."

It's clear I won't make it all the way up. I spot a wider section of road about a quarter-mile from the cabin and carefully maneuver into it, angling the truck so it won't slide back down the mountain. The engine ticks as it cools, snow already accumulating on the hood.

I zip up my coat and pull on my hat, bracing myself before opening the door. The wind hits me like a physical force, icy fingers finding every gap in my clothing. Snow crunches under my boots as I start the trek up to Axton's place.

The path is treacherous, hidden beneath the fresh powder. I pick my way carefully, using the trees for support when I can. My breath comes out in ragged puffs, visible for a moment before being whipped away by the wind.

With each step, the cabin looms larger. No lights shine from within, but I can smell woodsmoke on the air. It mingles with the crisp scent of pine, creating a scent that's uniquely Axton. My stomach tightens.

I pause at the edge of the clearing, suddenly unsure. What if he turns me away? What if I've made a terrible mistake coming here?

I take a deep breath, steeling myself, and trudge through the deepening snow towards the front door. No more dancing around this. Before I can lose my nerve, I knock—three sharp raps that echo in the stillness.

For a long moment, there's nothing. Then, footsteps. The door swings open, and there he is.

Axton looks... rough. His hair's a mess, stubble darkening his jaw. But it's his eyes that catch me off guard—bloodshot and wary, like he hasn't slept in days.

"Mel?" His voice is hoarse, surprise evident. "What are you doing here?"

I lock eyes with Axton. "We need to talk."

Conflict flashes across his face. He steps back, opening the door wider. "Come in. This storm's getting worse."

I brush past him, his scent—pine, leather, and something uniquely him —enveloping me. The cabin's warmth contrasts the biting cold outside, but unease hangs between us, electric and heavy.

I step inside, the warmth of the cabin a stark contrast to the biting cold outside. My eyes dart around, taking in every detail of Axton's space.

The living room is open and inviting, with a large stone fireplace dominating one wall. A bare Christmas tree stands in the corner, a box of decorations sitting untouched beside it.

The furniture is sleek and masculine, all dark leather and polished wood. It's nice, but it feels... incomplete. Like a showroom waiting for someone to breathe life into it.

But then I spot the little touches that make me smile. A stuffed unicorn peeking out from behind a couch cushion. A coloring book and crayons on the coffee table. Small reminders that the twins visit here, bringing their chaos and joy into Axton's ordered world.

My gaze lands on the mantle, and I freeze. A simple silver frame holds a photo I haven't seen in years.

Axton and me at The Old Mill, both of us laughing at something long forgotten. I was seventeen, he was twenty-two, and the world seemed full of possibility.

Seeing it challenges every doubt I've entertained about Axton's intentions towards me. And Daddy's words soon follow: "Patience and faith, Mel. That's what real love is built on."

I think of the gifts I've received over the past few weeks. The tin of peppermint bark that brought back memories of sneaking treats during the holidays. The book of poems with passages marked in Axton's neat handwriting. The locket with the sprig of lavender and the note that said, "For the one who feels like home."

All this time, I thought he'd forgotten. That the connection we once shared had faded away like mist in the morning sun. But here, in this cabin that's caught between a bachelor pad and a family home, I see the truth.

Axton remembers. He cares. He's just... struggling to show it.

I turn to face him, my heart pounding. He's watching me, his expression guarded, but his eyes...

God, his eyes are full of so much emotion it takes my breath away.

"You kept it," I whisper, gesturing to the photo.

Axton nods, a small, almost shy movement. "Never could bring myself to put it away."