A Snowstorm & A Stronghorn (Evershift Haven #4)

Chapter 6

THE WHIRLWIND OF ACTIVITY surrounding Thalinda’s impromptu welcome party leaves me dizzy. In just a day, she’s transformed the town square into a festive wonderland, assuring me Evershift Haven did the hard part, shifting for the mood.

Colorful banners flutter between lamp posts, their magical glow intensifying as twilight descends. Tables groan under the weight of an eclectic potluck feast—everything from shimmering fairy cakes to what I suspect might be troll-made meatballs, since there’s a troll hovering near them, carefully watching all who take a serving and nodding with satisfaction.

Thalinda, a force of nature in her floral-print dress, guides me from one group to the next. Her booming voice carries across the square as she makes introductions.

“Fiona, darling, you simply must meet Bella Brewster. She runs The Enchanted Espresso—best coffee this side of the magical realm!”

“We’ve met.”

“In that case...” Before I can say more, Thalinda whisks me away to meet Throk Ironheart, the orc mechanic. His massive green hands engulf mine in a surprisingly gentle handshake.

“Heard about your car trouble. We’ll summon it when you’re settled, and I’ll give it a once-over to fix the damage and make sure there’s no lingering curse damage.”

“Curse damage?” I ask, wide-eyed.

Throk smiles. “You’d be surprised what can happen on those mountain roads, but don’t worry, I’ve got a special enchanted car wash that’ll take care of any hexes along with the mud.”

The introductions blur together—Etienne and Crystal St. John, the vampire couple who run the ‘Moonlit Inn,’ Sage Bookworm, the elderly elf librarian, and Caelan, the fire demon chef at ‘Beastly Bites.’ I lose track of names after that, but each face is kind, and each welcome is genuine. Still, the sheer number of new names and magical beings threatens to overwhelm me.

I spot a break in the crowd and seize my chance. “Excuse me,” I murmur to Thalinda. “I just need a moment of fresh air.”

She pats my arm. “Of course, dear. Take all the time you need. We’ll be here when you’re ready to rejoin the festivities.”

I slip away, weaving through the cheerful throng until I reach the edge of the square. A stone bench beneath an ancient oak tree offers a quiet refuge. I sink onto it, letting out a long breath.

The sounds of the party fade as I close my eyelids. In the sudden quiet, memories of my mother flood back. I see her smile and hear her laugh. The ache of her absence hits me anew. “Oh, Mom,” I whisper. “I wish you could see this place. You’d love it here.”

“I’m sure she would,” says a gentle voice.

My eyelids snap open to see Grizelda.

I manage a small smile. “It’s nice to see you again, Grizelda.”

Grizelda settles onto the bench beside me. “How are you holding up?”

I consider deflecting with a polite, “I’m fine,” but something in Grizelda’s kind eyes encourages honesty.

“I’m overwhelmed. Everyone’s been so welcoming, but it’s a lot to take in, and being here, surrounded by all this magic and wonder, makes me miss my mom even more.”

She nods, her expression sympathetic. “Loss is never easy, especially when it’s someone as close as a mother. Would you like to tell me about her?”

The invitation opens a floodgate. Words pour out of me, painting a picture of Elspeth MacLean—her fiery spirit, her quick wit, and her unshakable love. I describe our movie nights, our inside jokes, and the way she’d always known exactly what to say when I was struggling.

“She sounds like a remarkable woman,” she says when I finally fall silent.

“She was.” I wipe away a stray tear. “She was my best friend as much as being my mother. I just... I keep wondering what she’d think of all this. Of me being here, in this magical town. Of...” I hesitate, then push on. “Of my growing feelings for Bram.”

Grizelda’s eyes twinkle. “Ah, our master Stonehorn has caught your attention, has he?”

I nod, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks. “He’s been so kind and patient. Yet part of me worries that moving on, finding happiness here... It’s somehow a betrayal of my mom’s memory.”

“Oh, my dear, from everything you’ve told me about Elspeth, I have no doubt she’d want nothing more than for you to be happy. Mothers don’t stop loving their children just because they’re no longer with us. Your joy would be her joy.”

Her words make me feel better. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” she says firmly. “As a mother myself, I can tell you there’s nothing I want more than for my daughter to find her place in the world and to build a life filled with love and purpose.”

My eyebrows rise. “You have a daughter?”

She smiles. “I do indeed. Or, I will soon enough.” She pats her belly, and I realize with a start that there’s a gentle swell beneath her flowing robes. “She’s due to make her grand entrance in about four months.”

“Congratulations,” I say, genuinely delighted by the news. “That’s wonderful.”

“Thank you.” Grizelda beams. “It’s been quite the adventure already. Just last week, I sneezed during a protection spell and accidentally turned all the pickles in town into singing cucumbers. Pregnancy and magic can be an interesting combination.”

I laugh, picturing jars of pickles bursting into song. “I can imagine. Do you know if it’s a girl, or are you just hoping?”

Grizelda’s eyes twinkle mischievously. “Let’s just say, I have a strong intuition. My husband, Atlas, is convinced it’s a boy. We have a rather elaborate magical bet going. The loser has to change all the diapers for the first month.”

“That’s quite a stakes,” I say, grinning. “I hope you’re right, for your sake.”

“Oh, I am,” she says with absolute certainty. “I can already feel her magic, you know. It’s wild and unpredictable, just like her mother’s. I have a feeling she’s going to keep us on our toes.”

As Grizelda continues to chat about her pregnancy cravings for glowworm gelato and thunder cloud cotton candy, and her plans for the nursery, designing a room that changes seasons with the baby’s mood, I relax. The grief that’s been my constant companion these past months eases just a fraction.

I glance back toward the town square, where the party is still in full swing. Bram stands at the edge of the crowd, visibly scanning the area. When he spots me, his face breaks into a warm smile that makes my heart skip a beat.

Grizelda follows my gaze and chuckles. “The universe has a way of leading us exactly where we need to be, even if it’s not where we thought we were going. Maybe your car breaking down wasn’t just an accident.”

I consider her words, looking out over the twinkling lights of Evershift Haven. “Maybe you’re right,” I say softly. “Maybe this is exactly where I’m meant to be.” Grizelda’s words give me courage to rejoin the party. I stand, smoothing my dress. “Thank you for listening.”

“Anytime.” She waves me off with a knowing smile.

I weave through the crowd back toward the center of the square. The music shifts to something slower, more romantic—a melody that seems to float on the evening air. Couples pair off, swaying together beneath the magical lights.

Bram approaches, his massive form moving with surprising grace. “Would you care to dance?”

My heart flutters. “I’d love to.”

His large hands engulf mine as he draws me close. Despite our height difference, we fit together perfectly—my head resting just below his shoulder as his arms create a warm circle around me. We move in slow circles, and I breathe in his scent of pine and wood smoke.

“Are you enjoying your welcome party?” Bram’s voice rumbles above me.

“It’s wonderful. Your mother really outdid herself.”

“She’s been planning it since the moment she met you.”

I laugh. “That was only yesterday!”

“Mother doesn’t waste time once she sets her mind to something.”

The music swells, and Bram spins me in a gentle twirl. When I return to his arms, our gazes lock. He leans down, and his breath is warm against my face. My eyes drift closed...

A sharp crack splits the air. Someone screams. My eyes snap open as chunks of snow and ice rain down from the roof of the nearby gazebo. The weight of accumulated snow has proven too much for the structure.

“Everyone back.” Grizelda raises her hands, streaming purple magic from her fingers to create a shimmering dome over our heads. The falling debris bounces off harmlessly.

Then Grizelda’s nose twitches.

“Oh, no,” she says. “Not now. ACHOO!”

Her sneeze sends a pulse of magic through her protective spell. The snow swirls and condenses, forming hundreds of perfect snowballs that hover in the air for one suspended moment before dropping into neat piles all around us.

Atlas rushes to his wife’s side. “Are you all right, my love?”

Grizelda sniffles, then starts to laugh. “That’s one way to clear a roof. Though I must say, these pregnancy-enhanced sneezes are getting rather explosive.”

A mischievous grin spreads across Throk’s face as he scoops up one of the magically-formed snowballs. “It would be a shame to let all this ammunition go to waste...”

He launches the snowball at Atlas, who catches it squarely in the chest. The snow explodes in a shower of sparkles.

“Oh, it’s on now.” Atlas grabs two snowballs, tossing one to Grizelda. “Teams of two. Choose your partners, but watch out for my wife’s belly.”

The party erupts into chaos as everyone scrambles for cover and ammunition. Bram tugs my hand. “Quick, behind the Heart of Haven. Best defensive position in the square.”

We dash for shelter, ducking as snowballs whiz past our heads. The magical snow leaves trails of colorful sparks in its wake, turning the battlefield into a glittering wonderland.

Laughter erupts around me as the snowball fight begins in earnest. Bram tugs me toward the shelter of the ancient oak tree. We dash across the square, ducking and weaving to avoid the barrage of sparkling snowballs flying through the air.

“Quick thinking,” I say, breathless from our sprint. “I didn’t peg you for the hiding type.”

“It’s not hiding. It’s strategy.” Bram’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “I’ll have you know I was the undefeated snowball champion three winters running.”

“Oh, really?” I raise an eyebrow, scooping up a handful of the magical snow. It tingles against my skin, cool but not cold. “Care to put that title on the line?”

Before he can respond, I smoosh the snow directly onto his nose. It explodes in a shower of purple and gold sparks, leaving Bram sputtering and wide-eyed.

“That’s cheating,” he protests, but he’s laughing too hard to sound genuinely offended.

I grin, already gathering more ammunition. “All’s fair in love and snowball fights, my friend.”

Bram’s expression softens at the word ‘love,’ but there’s no time to dwell on it. A volley of snowballs comes sailing over our heads, courtesy of Throk and Suzette.

“You call that aim?” asks Throk. “My great-grandmother throws better, and she’s been dead for two centuries.”

Bram and I exchange a look. “Truce?” he asks.

I nod. “Truce. Let’s show them how it’s done.”

We emerge from behind the tree, snowballs at the ready. The square has transformed into a winter wonderland battlefield. Grizelda hovers a few feet off the ground, using her magic to direct snowballs with pinpoint accuracy. Her husband Atlas acts as her shield, his massive form easily deflecting incoming fire.

To our left, Bella Brewster lobs snowballs that leave trails of steam in their wake. “Careful, dears,” she calls out. “These are extra hot chocolate flavored.”

I duck just in time to avoid one of Bella’s steaming projectiles. It sails past me and catches Etienne St. John square in the face. The vampire splutters, his usually slicked-back hair now a chocolatey mess.

“My coiffure,” he wails dramatically. “Crystal, avenge me.”

His wife materializes behind us, moving with supernatural speed. Before I can react, she dumps an entire bucket of snow over Bram’s head. He yelps, shaking like a dog and showering me with icy droplets.

“Sorry,” Bram apologizes, brushing snow from my shoulders. His touch lingers, warm even through my coat.

I’m about to tell him not to worry when a flash of movement catches my eye. Across the square, I spot Candice backed up against the gazebo. Ronan, the lycan lumberjack, looms over her, but rather than looking frightened, Candice gazes up at him with a mixture of anticipation and desire.

Ronan leans in, his lips mere inches from hers. The rest of the chaotic square seems to fade away as I watch, holding my breath.

Then, with deadly accuracy, Bram launches a snowball. It arcs gracefully through the air and explodes against the side of Ronan’s head just as he’s about to kiss Candice.

The lycan jerks back, sputtering and shaking his head. His eyes narrow as he spots us, a low growl rumbling from his chest.

“Oh, no,” I mutter.

Ronan scoops up an enormous armful of snow, his muscles rippling beneath his flannel shirt. With a mighty roar, he hurls the entire mass in our direction.

“Incoming,” shouts Bram. He wraps his arms around me, spinning us both so that his broad back takes the brunt of Ronan’s snowy revenge.

We tumble to the ground, landing in a soft snowdrift. I’m sprawled across Bram’s chest, our faces inches apart. For a moment, the chaos of the snowball fight fades away. I’m acutely aware of Bram’s warmth, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the way his amber eyes seem to glow in the twilight.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly.

I nod, not trusting my voice. I lower my head, tempted...

“If you two lovebirds are quite finished,” says Candice, “We could use some backup over here.”

Reality crashes back in. I scramble to my feet, offering Bram a hand up. He takes it, easily pulling himself upright.

“Shall we?” he asks, gesturing toward where Candice and Ronan are now fending off a coordinated assault from Grizelda and Atlas.

I grin, already scooping up more snow. “Absolutely.”

We charge into the fray, lobbing snowballs with reckless abandon. I nail Grizelda with a shot to the shoulder, only to have Atlas retaliate with a snowball the size of a beach ball. Bram leaps in front of me, taking the hit and dramatically falling to his knees.

“I’m hit,” he cries out, clutching his chest. “Go on without me, Fiona. Save yourself.”

I laugh at his theatrics. “Never!” I strike a heroic pose. “I’ll defend your honor, brave sir.”

From the corner of my eye, I spot Ronan sneaking up behind us, another massive snowball at the ready. Without thinking, I grab Bram’s hand and sprint toward the fountain at the center of the square.

“What are you—” Bram starts to ask, but I cut him off.

“Do you trust me?”

He nods without hesitation. “Completely.”

“Then jump.”

We leap into the fountain just as Ronan’s snowball whistles over our heads. The water is pleasantly warm, enchanted to never freeze even in the depths of winter. We surface, spluttering and laughing.

“That was brilliant.” Bram pushes wet hair out of his eyes.

I’m about to respond when a stern voice cuts through the din of the snowball fight.

“What in the name of all that’s magical is going on here?”

The square falls silent as we all turn to see Mayor Ambrosius Spellbinder standing at the edge of the chaos. His long white beard is immaculately groomed, and his robes shimmer with constellations that seem to move of their own accord.

For a moment, I worry we’re all in trouble. Then I notice the way the corner of the mayor’s mouth twitches, as if he’s fighting back a smile.

“Well?” he asks, his eyes twinkling. “Is no one going to invite the mayor to join in the festivities?”

A cheer goes up from the crowd. Grizelda floats over, offering the mayor a perfectly formed snowball.

“Care to do the honors, Your Honor?” she asks with a wink.

Mayor Spellbinder takes the snowball, weighing it in his hand. He surveys the square, his gaze finally landing on Bram and me, still standing in the fountain.

“I believe,” he says slowly, “Our newest resident hasn’t been properly baptized into our community yet.”

Before I can process his words, the mayor launches the snowball with surprising strength. It sails through the air and hits me square in the forehead, exploding in a shower of multicolored sparks.

For a heartbeat, everything is silent. Then I burst out laughing, the joy of the moment bubbling up from deep inside me. It’s a full-bodied laugh, one I haven’t experienced since before my mother’s decline, when it became clear we were measuring her time in weeks, not months or years.

As my laughter rings out across the square, it’s joined by others. Soon, the entire town is caught up in the merriment. Even as the magical snow continues to fall around us, I feel a warmth spreading through me that has nothing to do with temperature.

In this moment, surrounded by the kindness and laughter of Evershift Haven, I realize something profound. The grief for my mother will always be a part of me, but it doesn’t have to consume me. There’s still room for joy, for new beginnings, for...

My gaze meets Bram’s. He’s looking at me with such tenderness that it takes my breath away. Impulsively, I reach out and take his hand, intertwining our fingers.

“Thank you,” I say softly.

His brow furrows in confusion. “For what?”

“For finding me in that storm. For bringing me here. For...” I gesture around at the square, at the smiling faces of my new neighbors and friends. “For all of this.”

Bram’s expression softens. He opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, we’re interrupted by a splash. Candice and Ronan have jumped into the fountain with us, sending up a wave of warm water.

“Group hug,” says Candice, throwing her arms around both Bram and me.

Ronan joins in. “Welcome to Evershift Haven, Fiona. Hope you’re ready for a lifetime of this kind of nonsense.”

As more of the townsfolk pile into the fountain, turning it into an impromptu pool party, I’m grinning so hard my cheeks hurt. For the first time in months, I feel truly, completely alive.

“You know what?” I say, meeting each of their gazes in turn. “I think I am.”