My Secret Santa Daddies (Silver Ridge Christmas)

3. Sierra

3

SIERRA

“… S o, are you going to see your parents for the holidays?” Susan asks, raising an eyebrow as she stirs her tea, her eyes watching me closely like she’s already anticipating the answer. The early morning light filters through the kitchen window, catching the rising steam from her mug.

I roll my eyes, leaning back in my chair. “Nope. They’re off on some fancy cruise. Left me behind like a kid who can’t be trusted to handle herself. Guess I wasn’t on the guest list.”

Susan chuckles, setting her cup down. “Wait, seriously? They didn’t even ask if you wanted to come?”

“No. They said, something along the lines of ‘Oh, sweetie, you probably wouldn’t enjoy it anyway. It’s more of a retirement crowd.”

Susan shakes her head, laughing softly. “Classic. Leave you in the snow while they sip cocktails in the sun.”

“Exactly. Guess someone has to look out for the house… and, you know, survive a snowstorm alone.”

“Sounds like your parents.” She leans back, her smile fading a little. “Did you tell them you wrecked your car in the storm.”

I wince, the reminder of my recent disaster still fresh. “No. Not yet.”

“What happened?”

“Hit a patch of ice on the turn. It got buried in a snowbank and now it doesn’t run. Since I’m not exactly rolling in cash, I guess I’m stuck for a bit.”

Susan’s eyes soften as she takes in my words. “I’m sorry, Sierra. That sucks.”

“I’ll manage. I always do.”

Susan tilts her head slightly, her gaze piercing through the forced casualness of my tone. “That’s your go to line, isn’t it? I’ll manage .’”

“Well, yeah. What else am I supposed to say?”

“How about ‘I need help’ or ‘I could use a break,’ for starters?” Her tone is gentle, but the concern is clear. “You’ve been carrying a lot on your shoulders for a long time now, Sierra.”

I sigh, staring down at my mug, tracing the edge of the handle with my fingertip. “It’s not like I’ve had much choice. It’s just… been a lot, you know? After Anna died, after everything with Griffin—” I stop myself, the words catching in my throat.

Susan nods, giving me space to continue. “You don’t talk about them much anymore.”

Griffin and I… we were never supposed to be serious. Just two people caught up in the whirlwind of youth, acting on impulse and adrenaline. It wasn’t love. It wasn’t anything permanent. At least, that’s what I had told myself.

It started at a party, one of those loud, chaotic nights where everything was a blur of music and laughter, with the world spinning so fast you forgot where you were. Griffin had this way about him back then—charming, easygoing, with a smile that made you feel like you were the only person in the room. I wasn’t immune to it. No one was.

I can vividly remember the moment we kissed. It was late, the party was winding down, and we were sitting on the steps outside, away from the noise. I’d had a few drinks, not enough to forget, but enough to feel bold. We were talking, and laughing about something stupid, when he leaned in, and suddenly it wasn’t just about the conversation anymore. I could feel the tension, the pull, and before I knew it, his lips were on mine.

It was wild, electric. And for a moment, it felt like nothing else mattered. We spent a few weeks tangled up in each other, sneaking off between classes, crashing at each other’s places, keeping it casual because that’s what we both wanted—or at least, that’s what I told myself I wanted. There was no talk of the future, no promises made. Just us, living in the moment, enjoying the ride while it lasted.

And then Anna had came into the picture.

I didn’t mind at first. I knew it was bound to end—whatever we had was never meant to be anything more than a fling. We weren’t in love. I wasn’t looking for commitment, and neither was he.

“There’s not much to say,” I mutter, leaning back in my chair. “Griffin moved on, I guess. They all did.”

“Did you?”

I don’t answer right away. Instead, I stare out the window at the snow swirling around, feeling that old weight settle in my chest. “I don’t know if you ever really ‘move on’ from something like that. You just… learn to live with it I guess.”

Susan watches me for a moment, her expression soft. “It’s been four years, Sierra. You don’t have to keep everything bottled up.”

“Who else is going to take care of things if I don’t?”

“You don’t have to take care of everything,” she says quietly. “Especially not alone. What happened with Anna was a tragedy, but you can’t keep blaming yourself for it.”

My throat tightens at the mention of Anna, and I take a deep breath, trying to push down the emotions that start to bubble up whenever I think of her. “I know. I don’t—” I stop, not wanting to dive too deep into the past. It still hurts too much. “I just… I have to keep going, you know?”

“You’ve been ‘keeping going’ for so long that I think you’ve forgotten how to let yourself rest. It’s okay to take a break, Sierra. It’s okay to have fun.”

I let out a weak laugh. “Fun? I don’t even know what that looks like anymore.”

“Which is exactly why you need some,” Susan presses, her eyes softening. “You deserve to do something for yourself. You’ve spent so much time worrying about everyone else. It’s time to focus on you for once. Doctor’s orders.”

I raise an eyebrow at her. “Oh, so now it’s a medical prescription, huh?”

“Absolutely.” She sits up straighter, folding her arms with mock seriousness. “Take it easy. Do something fun. That’s my official recommendation.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help smiling. “Like what? I can’t exactly go on a cruise.”

“You could start by coming to the Secret Santa event,” she says with a sly smile. “You know, reconnect with people, have some fun.”

“Not that again. Susan, I’m not in the mood for Secret Santa.”

“Why not? It’ll be fun! Who doesn’t like getting a surprise present? And who knows, maybe you’ll get something meaningful. Something to remind you that life isn’t all work and worries.”

“You know I’m not exactly in the spirit this year.”

“You don’t have to be. Just… try. For yourself. It’s a small thing, but it might help.” She nudges my arm gently. “Come on, what have you got to lose? It’s just one night. Everyone would be so excited to see you there.”

I sigh, knowing she’s right, but the thought of getting involved in something as festive as Secret Santa feels… wrong, somehow. Like I’m betraying all the weight I’ve been carrying. But maybe that’s the point. Maybe I need to set it down, even if just for a night.

“Alright, fine,” I mumble, sitting up straight again. “I’ll think about it. But if it’s a disaster, I’m blaming you.”

Susan grins like she’s already won. “Deal.”

As she gathers her things, I walk her to the door. Snowflakes swirl outside, dusting the porch in a fine layer of white. The wind howls through the pines, shaking them gently like a grandmother rocking her grandchildren to sleep. It’s peaceful here, almost otherworldly.

“Maybe you’re right,” I say, not taking my eyes off the hypnotic dance of the snowflakes. “Maybe I could use a break.”

Susan hugs me one last time before stepping outside. “I knew you’d come around.”

I watch her go, the snowflakes falling harder now, blanketing everything in a layer of white. It’s a small concession, I reason with myself, as I lock the door behind her. But as I turn around and look at the twinkling lights of the town shining through my kitchen window, a flicker of something like hope begins to bloom in my chest.

Suddenly, a knock at the door causes me to freeze.

I pause, mid-step. That’s strange. Susan had just left, and it’s not like I was expecting anyone else. My heart gives a little jolt, but I brush it off. Maybe Susan forgot something and decided to double back.

I head back to the door, pulling it open without hesitation.

But it’s not Susan.

I’m face to face with Wyatt. And Cody.

My breath catches in my throat, my pulse kicking up. They both stand there, bundled up against the cold, their broad frames taking up nearly the entire doorway. Wyatt’s green eyes meet mine with that same unreadable look, while Cody stands just behind him, hands stuffed into his coat pockets, offering his usual easy grin.

I blink, trying to catch up with reality. “What… What are you guys doing here?”

Wyatt shrugs, leaning casually against the doorframe like he doesn’t have a care in the world. “Thought we’d check in. Make sure you’re alright after the whole car thing.”

“I… I’m fine,” I manage to say, though my voice comes out a little more brittle than I intended. “Thanks for asking.”

The air between us crackles, heavy with unspoken words and memories best left buried. Four years of anger and hurt, threatening to break the dam I’ve worked so hard to build around my heart.

“Is that it?” I ask.

Wyatt tilts his head to the side, eyeing me up then down, shaking his head.

“Nah, that’s not the whole thing.