Epilogue
Sabrina
Halloween
The bell over the shop door jingles for the hundredth time tonight, and I can already tell I’m going to run out of candy before the last wave of ghouls and goblins hit Main Street.
Crescent Ridge doesn’t usually get this much foot traffic, but word spread that the witch is handing out full-sized candy bars.
Cole insisted.
Now he’s at the front door, crouched down so he’s eye-level with a trio of tiny vampires and one unicorn princess, his massive hand holding out the basket for them to pick their poison.
His voice rumbles low and kind as he asks each of their names before doling out treats.
Gloria and Shawn Langley already stopped by with their children.
The only evidence they witnessed our kiss in the alley was a faint darkening on Gloria’s cheeks. I’m sure mine were no better.
The sight of a lumberjack who can split logs with his bare hands tenderly placing a Snickers into a kid’s plastic pumpkin bucket does something to me I can’t even begin to explain.
From my perch on the counter, cats draped around me like gothic accessories, I sip spiced cider and watch.
Onyx sprawls against my thigh like the prince he thinks he is.
Obsidian perches above us on the shelf, yellow eyes glowing in the dim light, and Oswald chirrups at all the children like he’s the official greeter of Tomes and Tea.
“Happy Halloween,” Cole says, straight-faced, as the unicorn thanks him and skips out the door.
He shuts it gently against the chill October wind before turning toward me. His dark eyes soften when they land on me, still in my black lace, veil abandoned on the counter, lipstick long since smudged from his kisses. I’m his undead bride and he loves it.
“What?” I ask, feigning innocence.
“You’re staring.”
“Can you blame me?” I echo his own line back at him.
He grins, crossing the shop in a few strides, plucking Onyx from my lap, and setting the cat aside so he can tug me down off the counter. His arms circle my waist, strong and sure.
“I love you,” he murmurs against my hair.
The bell jingles again, more little monsters piling in, and he groans but lets me go. I laugh as he returns to his post, handing out candy like the most intimidating doorman in history.
This is it. My spooky shop, my black-clad heart, my cats, my lumberjack husband doling out sugar to local children. Halloween will come again next year, and the year after, but this is the one that’ll always hold a special place in my memory.
Later, once all the trick or treaters have gone home we make our way to Madison’s cabin.
Pumpkins line the fence posts, and the scents of woodsmoke, and cider fill the air.
My friends are scattered across the lawn in full costume regalia, witch hats, vampire capes, glittery fairy wings, even a cowboy hat that’s seen better days.
My lumberjack husband is in a flannel shirt, towering over everyone, looking like he belongs here more than I ever did.
“Ready?” I whisper, nerves buzzing in my chest.
He squeezes my fingers, steady as stone.
“Born ready.”
We step into the light of the fire just as Calhoun spots us. His deep voice booms across the yard.
“Cole? You’re Sabrina’s mystery man?”
Cole doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t hesitate. His voice carries steady and proud.
“I’m her husband.”
The yard goes dead quiet.
“Husband?” Madison screeches, nearly spilling her cider.
“Pay up,” Lynn crows, thrusting her hand out toward Meredith, who groans and digs a crumpled bill from her pocket.
The silence explodes into laughter, cheers, and a dozen voices talking over each other.
“When did this happen?”
“Where was the wedding?”
“Why wasn’t I invited?”
I roll my eyes as Noel sidles up, cup in hand, smirking like the cat who got the cream.
“Told you idiots I knew. None of you ever listen to me.”
“Because you usually exaggerate,” Meredith mutters, still sulking as she forks over another dollar to Lynn.
Cole chuckles, sliding his arm around my waist and pulling me flush against him. The simple act makes me glow inside and out. He isn’t embarrassed, isn’t trying to downplay it, he’s proud.
Madison leans in, wide-eyed.
“You got married without telling anyone?”
“Not anyone,” I say, flicking a glance at Noel.
“Hey, I figured it out all on my own. Not my fault I’m observant,” Noel announces to the group. “Honestly, I should be maid of honor retroactively.”
“Done,” Cole says with a grin. “Consider it official.”
That earns another round of laughter. Someone thrusts a mug of cider into my hand, Welsey claps Cole on the back hard enough to make me wince in sympathy, and all around us the bonfire crackles as the music picks up.
Over the haunting violin melody, Noel says to Celeste, “If I ever date again, it won’t be some broody secretive bastard of a mountain man. I want someone who talks. Who tells me things before I drag it out of him.”
My heart breaks for my friend but Cole’s hand on my hip anchors me.
His solid presence. His steady warmth. Noel is going to find her own mountain man.
I can feel it. Someone light and warm with a love for Christmas.
Despite her scrooge-like manner this past year she doesn’t hate the holiday.
She just needs to be ready and open to find the man who proves how much a fool her ex was to let her go.
For the first time, I don’t feel like Crescent Ridge’s odd witchy outcast, tolerated at gatherings by anyone who isn’t part of my friend group. Tonight, I feel claimed. Chosen.
Married.
Cole dips his head, brushing his lips over my temple as the chaos swirls around us.
“Happy Halloween, wife.”
I grin up at him, smug and wicked as the night.
“Happy ever after, husband.”
The End
Thank you so much for reading Haunting the Mountain Man.