“You came home,” she said, hugging her mother and thrilled to see them.

“Aye, we couldn’t miss the first Christmas Eve party you’ve ever set up, and we’ve been invited for Christmas. How could we resist?” her mother said, hugging her back. “Your father and I are so proud of you.”

Then her parents joined them for the meal.

In Scotland, Christmas wasn’t celebrated as much as New Year’s, but with all the Americans now living with the pack, things were changing, and the pack was happy to enjoy all the fun.

In a Scottish tradition, kids gathered around the fire and tossed their lists to Santa into the flames. Smoke curled up from the burning paper and carried their messages to Lapland where Santa lived.

A Yule log cut in the summer from a rowan tree had been dried and saved and was now brought into the kitchen, where pack members toasted to it while circling it three times. Then it was taken to the main fireplace in the great hall to burn.

Fires in all the fireplaces would remain lit all night long, as it was the tradition to scare away evil spirits to keep them from coming into the house—or in this case, the castle—on Christmas Eve.

Later that night, while Julia showed Calla’s parents to their guest chamber—actually, Calla’s but she’d promptly moved into Guthrie’s—Calla and Guthrie went out to the garden room, where she was expecting the party to continue for another hour or so.

Instead, they found chestnuts roasting on the fire and mulled wine waiting for them, Christmas music softly playing in the background and cinnamon candles lit, the only other illumination besides the fire in the fire pit. It was a lovely, intimate time for them to share after the big party.

She noticed then that her Christmas stocking and his were hanging off the coat stand and she smiled. “Who planned this?”

“Didn’t you?” Guthrie asked, taking her into his arms.

She smiled. “Must have been Julia or the ladies. Want to open our stocking presents first?”

“Ahh, lass, all I need is you.” But Guthrie grabbed their stockings and cuddled with her on the couch where they opened the gifts to each other. For her, a super-duper online scheduler and three books on creating memorable parties.

She loved them.

And for him, a financial planner, a fancy pair of argyle socks, and a package of bonbons. He laughed. “You’d been eyeing these at one of the stores.”

“Aye, for you,” she said, smiling.

“Do you want one?”

She grinned. He laughed.

They danced then to the music, but when they finally headed for the keep and his bedchamber, the place was all quiet except for Julia, on her way back from getting her required cup of hot chocolate.

“The party was the best,” Julia said. “And now that you’re family…”

Calla laughed. I get to plan it for free, aye, next year?

Julia gave her a hug. It was all in the plans from the start.

They watched her head to the stairs to the bedchambers.

“I think Julia had this in mind all along,” Calla said, loving his family as much as she did him.

Guthrie wrapped his arm around Calla and headed for the stairs. “So do I.”

***

Bright and early the next morning, candles were lit in all the windows to guide strangers to warmth and safety. Everyone gathered around to see the ashes in the great hall fireplace. A foot-shaped pile of ash pointed toward the inside of the house, foretelling a new arrival that would come in the New Year.

Everyone sat around the huge Christmas tree and unwrapped presents. What Calla hadn’t expected was for Guthrie to get her a MacNeill plaid skirt, with the ladies’ help in picking the right size. She gave him a hug, her eyes misting with tears. She was now truly one of the pack.

She had bought him a lovely soft wool sweater that she could snuggle up against, so it was as much hers as it was his.

But the most special gift was Julia’s Christmas present to Ian. A baby-sized kilt. Everyone was thrilled. And several commented on the prediction of the Yule log’s ashes.

Ian smiled broadly, lifted Julia from the chair and hugged her, then swung her around in his arms, and everyone looked on and cheered. Guthrie squeezed Calla’s hand, assuring her she would be there one of these days.

All the ladies hurried to give Julia hugs after that.

They sat down at noon to a Christmas feast of turkey with all the trimmings, bannock cakes made of oatmeal, and a chocolate cake from Sweden. Mulled wine, champagne, and whisky were served too.

At each place was a Christmas cracker—a cardboard tube covered in colorful gift wrap twisted at both ends. Each was handmade and personalized for the recipient by another member of the pack. Everyone took their cracker in their right hand and crossed arms with their neighbor to grasp his cracker with their left hand. With a tug, the crackers made small pops or bangs all around the great hall. Inside the crackers were colorful paper crowns that everyone, from the youngest to the eldest of the wolves, proudly placed on their heads.

Each cracker also contained a joke, love poem, or limerick, as well as a small gift.

Calla smiled at the sparkly coin purse that Guthrie had given her. “That’s all I have money for now,” she joked.

He opened his and found a sterling silver money clip personalized with his initials—and laughed.

“Before long, we’ll fill the coffers all over again. Don’t you worry, lass. And thank you. I love my gift.” He leaned over and kissed her. Though he was starving for the meal, he craved returning to bed with Calla even more.