Epilogue
“So, Princess Callie ran back into the forest – to her friends, to home. And there, she lived happily ever after.” Harper placed down the printed pages of her new story, swallowing against her parched throat. It was the first time in weeks that most of the children were quiet. As Christmas approached at the preschool, the excitement had risen to a constant, audible buzz, and Harper had soon discovered that taking care of three-year-olds wasn’t always fun and games. Sometimes, it was tired temper tantrums and melted reindeer biscuits in every crevice of the room.
It was worth it for moments like this. While she was still editing her adult novel, she had adapted a simpler, child-friendly version for the playgroup after discovering they liked her often improvised tales of fairy folk and found family. In this one, all the characters were inspired by Harper’s loved ones here in Belbarrow. The biggest focus, though, was self-acceptance. She hoped that if she explored this theme with the beautiful little minds that surrounded her, they might not grow up as she did, searching for validation in all the wrong places.
The children and parents clapped as she drew her reading to a close. She was certain Eiley even wiped a tear from her eye before encouraging little Saffron to clap, too.
“And there we have it,” said Dot, climbing into the circle of children with a warm smile. “What a lovely story to finish with on our very last session before Christmas. I hope you all have a fab festive period. We’ll be open again in the New Year– hopefully with some more stories from Miss Harper! Parents, don’t forget to grab a mince pie on your way out.”
Harper had already eaten two for breakfast, but she itched for more all the same. It was Christmas, after all. She planned to celebrate early with Fraser and his family tomorrow, and then would risk the mayhem of Christmas Day traffic to take him home to meet her parents. Fraser had dithered at first, worried his family would need him here – but Cam had practically packed his bags for him and told him, in no uncertain terms, to “Fuck off to Manchester.”
Harper couldn’t wait to see Myra open her present from Fraser. He’d decided to give her his beloved birdhouse – his very first childhood passion project. While Fraser’s dad had never appreciated it, Harper knew his mum would be overjoyed to display it in her garden, sharing it with the birds as her young son had once so earnestly hoped.
But already, Harper felt anxious to return to Scotland in the New Year. Fraser wanted to focus more on his crafts, something he was able to do now her rent was a steady income, so they’d scheduled market events around Scotland, planning themselves a little road trip to breathe life back into January. Though it felt odd to be working at her own pace for once, taking time away from her usual productivity, she was slowly settling in and letting herself be grateful. She even planned to freelance as a marketing specialist focused on small businesses on a budget, while she fixed up her novel and searched for beta readers.
She couldn’t rush a bestseller, after all.
As the children and parents began to disperse, many of them wearing merry and bright Christmas jumpers, Harper joined Eiley and Sorcha by the table of “eggnog”, which was actually just banana-flavoured milk for the kids. Isla jumped straight into her arms, the blue tinsel she’d used to decorate her hair tickling Harper’s face. “Princess Callie is my new favourite princess,” she decided matter-of-factly.
Harper squeezed her tight. “Well, I’m glad. She reminds me a lot of you.”
“You did an amazing job,” Eiley said. “I wish they listened to me half as intently as they do you. You have a magic touch.”
Harper shrugged off the compliment, though her chest swelled. Being accepted by Fraser’s family was special, but there was something about being welcomed with open arms by children that really made her feel accomplished in a way an office job never could. These tiny, little people trusted her to entertain them, to teach them love through words and stories.
“Are you all ready for your trip home?” Sorcha asked while rocking Archie from side to side.
“I am. Fraser, on the other hand…”
Eiley rolled her eyes. “I don’t know how many times we have to tell him that we can manage without him.”
In truth, Fraser was doing better recently. With Eiley learning to drive, Flockhart’s up and running smoothly, and everybody in high spirits, he was trying harder than ever to make time for himself. To take care of his own wellbeing as well as everyone else’s.
And when he didn’t, Harper had many ways to take care of him on his behalf.
“His heart is too big for his own good,” Harper said softly, “but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Fondness creased Eiley’s cheeks. “I’m just so happy for you both.”
“I’m happy for all of us,” said Sorcha, bumping Eiley’s hip. “It’s been a tough year, but we all found our way.” She blew a raspberry on Archie’s face, forcing a gorgeous belly laugh and a gummy grin from him. “And with even more than we had before.”
Eiley looked lovingly down at Saffron and Sky, who were enjoying their sensory play, rolling around with fabrics and toys on the mat at the adults’ feet. “If I’ve learned anything this year, it’s that even a loss can be a win.” She met Harper’s eye. “Except in your case. Don’t you ever leave us again.”
“I don’t plan on it. Promise.”
Sorcha let out a loud yawn as she placed Archie down in his pram. “Anyway, I need to get some Christmas shopping done before Cam kills me for leaving it so late. Anyone want to join?”
Both Harper and Eiley were quick to say yes.
Fraser slapped his hands together, then swept the sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his shirt. It felt like this piece had taken eons to come together, but finally, it resembled the fairy tale-inspired double bed he’d been striving for, from the floral motif etched into the wooden legs and frame, to the sheer chiffon canopy cascading across all four posters. The mattress had been delivered not an hour ago, so he’d rushed to remove the packaging and make sure the jade-green bedsheets matched the vision he’d had in his head.
Right on time, a knock rattled his shed door. He turned around, excitement fizzing in his belly. “Come in, sunshine.”
Harper crept in as if she still believed she was forbidden, though they’d done far more than admire his work in here over the last month. Some of his figurines hadn’t survived their antics – not that he was complaining.
She gasped when she saw the new bed. Fraser cleared her path as he wiped his clammy hands on a rag. She dashed straight over to it, fingering the pleats of the shimmering curtains gently. With Jack and Andy’s help, he’d extended his shed for this project alone – and for others he hoped to do in the future. He wanted to make her a thousand different things, each of them with some special meaning, some memory behind it.
This one had come from—
“The bed in my book,” she whispered. “It’s exactly how I described it.” She traced the sun and moon carved into the elm headboard.
He nodded, elated that she’d noticed so quickly. “Aye, it is, isn’t it? Almost like it was intentional.”
She whipped around, dewy-eyed. She’d only gained the confidence to show him her novel-in-progress a few weeks ago. He hadn’t pushed her, but he’d loved diving deeper into her mind when she’d finally trusted him. Even if she couldn’t look at him for several days afterwards, no doubt feeling vulnerable that somebody over the age of four was finally reading her words.
He didn’t know much about literature, but it was gorgeous. Magical. Something that deserved to be on shelves – and would be. Even if it only made it onto his, he’d make sure of it.
“This isn’t fair. Somebody is going to buy it. I mean, it’s beautiful, and I’m proud of you and all that, but...” She pouted like a child, tracing the chiselled patterns around the headboard. “ I want it.”
“You complete and utter eejit,” he remarked lovingly.
“Oi!” She glared. “Why?”
“It’s already yours.” And then he changed his mind. “Well, actually, it’s ours .”
She gasped again. “ No !”
“Yes.”
“You made it for me?”
“That part is obvious. For a writer, you take quite a lot of time to connect the dots.”
“Stop it!” She rushed over, slapping him on the chest lightly. “Do you mean it? It’s really ours?”
“It’s supposed to be your Christmas present, but it wouldn’t fit under the tree.” He smirked, lacing his hands around her back so that she was pressed against his torso. She gazed up at him, eyes round with awe as she traced the shape of his mouth.
“I only got you a new shirt,” she admitted dryly.
He softened as he tilted her chin up to kiss her. “You got me much more than that, sweetheart.”
She let out a content sigh, turning around in his arms to admire the bed again. “Where will it even go?”
Stroking the top of her head, he answered, “In your cabin.”
“ Our cabin,” she corrected.
A scoff. “Please. It’s been yours since the day you set foot in it and demanded Wi-Fi. It wasn’t a home before you.”
He’d even made sure to sort out the boiler as soon as she’d returned to Belbarrow, just so she wasn’t tempted to leave again. Of course, she also stayed at his house plenty, but he’d seen how much she loved nestling into the cabin’s small space, gazing out into the woods between furiously typed paragraphs. He loved stepping out onto the porch to spend frosty mornings together, swaddled in blankets and sipping tea, their breaths visible in the hazy air. Soaking in the quiet before the day began. He didn’t want her to feel like she didn’t have her own place here, too. She was his home, but he knew better than to try to be hers, at least completely. She was too wild. She deserved everything he could give her.
Her eyes fluttered shut as she folded her hands atop his. “I love you a ridiculous amount, Fraser Thomas Milligan.”
“I love you, too.” He placed a kiss in her hair, and then another for good measure. He’d never get tired of soaking her in like soil with rain, roots growing and growing and growing until she was all he could see, hear, think about. He traced the side of her abdomen, letting his fingers fall just close enough to her breast that she shuddered. “Do you think maybe we should test it out?”
Her eyes sparked as she turned, and already he was hardening against her. “It would be the practical thing to do, wouldn’t it? We want to make sure your furniture is… sturdy.”
She was falling on the bed in moments, laughter and then later moans filling the workshop as he showed her just how much he loved her. Just how sturdy he could make things as long as she was here.
This shed had once been full of shadows, things he’d thought better off hidden. She’d shown him he deserved more, casting light into all that darkness like a bonfire in a clearing.
He’d never let that blaze burn out.