Homegrown Magic

Epilogue Margot

Margot

“Come with me, this way,” Margot says, pulling Yael by the hand. They stand at the edge of town, in a wildflower meadow between the mammoth fields and the forest that leads to Margot’s cottage. Behind them, the sun sinks below the horizon, and above them, the first stars twinkle in the purple-and-orange gloaming sky. In the middle of the field, beyond a copse of oak trees, a fat yellow disk of a moon rises. A warm breeze that smells of autumn leaves and woodsmoke fills the air, bringing with it the sound of fiddle music from somewhere nearby.

“Where are we going, Daisy?” Yael asks wearily. “Let’s take a bottle of cider home and celebrate our engagement. I was thinking of revisiting that delicious thing you tried last night…”

Margot turns to smile coyly at them. “There’ll be time for all that later. I have one more thing to show you.”

“What else could there possibly be? I’ve already seen the best the Bloomfield harvest festival has to offer, and besides, most people have packed up for the night. Nobody but the old-timers were left in the square.”

It had been a marvelous afternoon of bobbing for apples, riding mammoths, carving pumpkins into ghoulish and grinning faces, weaving enchanted wildflower crowns for anyone who stopped by Margot’s booth, drinking cider and eating apple pastries, browsing the library stall, and watching an outdoor concert, but there’s one more stop they still have to make this evening.

Margot adjusts her own wildflower crown, woven with daisies and strawberries from the grotto. “Trust me. You’re going to love this.”

“Oh, very well,” Yael agrees. “Only because I cannot say no to you in that strawberry-print dress.”

Margot laughs. “Now you’re in trouble, because I shall wear this every day.”

“I shan’t be able to resist you,” Yael says agreeably. “No matter what you’re wearing.”

Together, they walk along a well-trod path that twists through the field of towering sunflowers. Clusters of purple asters and yellow bunches of goldenrod, such faithful companions in the autumn, grow at the bases of the sunflowers, and small grasshoppers flit along the path, darting away from their feet.

Margot twines her fingers through Yael’s, giving them a squeeze. The ring she gave Yael—something simple and lovely that Granny Fern had gifted her—is warm on Yael’s finger and fits them perfectly. A quiet contentment fills Margot as they walk. She’s found someone whom she adores, and they get to make a life together. Could she be any luckier?

“Daisy, are you quite all right?” Yael asks as the path twists, bringing them closer to the stand of trees.

Margot shoots Yael a watery smile. “Yes, of course. I’m just happy.”

Yael untwines their fingers from hers and cups her face in both hands. “Let’s aim for happiness without the tears, then, shall we?” Gently, Yael brushes away the tears silvering a path along Margot’s cheeks.

“Of course, I just…I never saw myself content here. And I certainly never imagined how sweet this life with you could be.”

“We’re only getting started,” Yael murmurs as they stand on tiptoe to kiss Margot. “Believe me, we have much joy ahead of us.”

As their kiss deepens and Margot heaves a small, happy sigh, the fiddle song stops and a new one begins. Yael pulls away from Margot the tiniest bit.

“Tell me,” they murmur against her lips.

“Yes?”

“What’s happening in the woods? Why is there music coming from the oak grove?”

Margot smiles. “Let’s go see.”

Together, they walk the last few turns of the flower-bordered path, stopping when it opens up in front of the oak grove.

In front of them, amid a circle of ancient oaks, a great feast has been set up. Fairy lights hang among the branches, casting a bobbing golden glow on the party. A merry band of two fiddlers and a drummer—traveling bards who are friends of Clementine’s—plays in one corner under the trees. Three enormous pumpkins and heaps of purple and gold mums decorate the area around the band. Smaller gourds and jars full of wildflowers rest on the tables among baskets of bread, pies, and tankards of ale. Everyone in Bloomfield stands around the tables, laughing and talking with one another.

When they see Yael and Margot, a cheer goes up. Clementine raises her tankard, and everyone else in town does the same. Margot’s parents sit among the crowds, and tears rise in Margot’s eyes as her mother meets her gaze and inclines her head slightly. Margot grins at her and nods back. Her father gives her a small wave. It’s so good to have them here.

“What is all this?” Yael asks.

Margot winds her arm around Yael’s waist. “It’s a party for you, darling. On the anniversary of Bloomfield’s salvation…or near enough…as a thank-you for all you did for the town. We wanted to celebrate you .”

Yael opens and closes their mouth, clearly too stunned to speak. “Well,” they manage at last. “It’s the most charming thing I’ve ever seen, but you’ve got it all wrong. Let’s make it our engagement party, shall we?”

“I’d like nothing better, my love,” Margot says as she leans down for one more quick kiss.

Another cheer rises from the crowd as Margot and Yael walk into the oak grove, hand in hand, ready to begin their next adventure.