Chapter 31
Phoenix
The Val-Du-Lys Thanksgiving Market was one of those events that made the town feel like the heart of the Laurentians.
Every October, the square transformed into a patchwork of color and noise, booths piled with apples, pears, pumpkins, and jars of honey catching the last of the afternoon sun.
The air smelled like roasted chestnuts, cinnamon cider, and woodsmoke, and a fiddle band played by the church steps while kids darted around hay bales and ponies in wool blankets.
I’d been here a hundred times before.
But this year was different. This year, Elyna was beside me and Braden’s small hand was wrapped around my finger.
“Easy, buddy,” I said, chuckling as he toddled across the cobblestones like a tiny drunk sailor. His little boots made hollow thumps on the stones; every step determined but wobbly.
“He’s fearless,” Elyna said, laughing softly. “That’s definitely not from me.”
“Has to be,” I teased, grinning down at her. “You’ve been walking into storms since the day I met you.”
She rolled her eyes, tugging her scarf tighter. The temperature had dropped overnight, and the wind carried the first bite of frost. Her nose was pink, her cheeks flushed, and I had the sudden, stupid thought I could watch her like this forever.
Braden stumbled and toppled against my shin with a grunt. I scooped him up, settling him against my hip. He patted my chest and pointed at the ponies by the corral, babbling something that sounded like “ba.”
“You see those?” I asked. “Ponies. Think you’re ready for a ride?”
Elyna shook her head, smiling. “He can barely stand on his own. You’re not putting him on a pony.”
“Not yet,” I said. “But soon.”
We wandered past rows of booths where vendors sold different items, the sound of laughter and chatter wrapping around us like music.
Elyna stopped at a display of pumpkins, crouching to pick up a tiny one streaked with green.
“This one’s perfect,” she said, holding it up for Braden. “Just your size.”
He reached out and grabbed it with both hands, and promptly tried to chew on the stem.
“Perfect,” I said, chuckling. “He’s definitely yours.”
She looked up at me then, eyes bright, and something inside me shifted. For a second, the noise of the market faded and all I saw was her, framed by sunlight and the pale gold of falling leaves.
We paid the vendor, who handed Braden a small apple “for being the best helper,” and moved on. Elyna stopped at a cider booth, bought two steaming cups, and handed me one. Our fingers brushed, the warmth of the cup nothing compared to the heat that sparked in that brief touch.
“Phoenix,” she murmured, her tone playful, soft. “You’re staring.”
“Can you blame me?” I asked.
Before she could answer, a voice cut through the crowd.
“Elyna.”
It was sharp, deliberate, and familiar.
We both turned.
Colette Jansen.
Her coat stretched tight across her chest, lipstick a jarring slash of red against her pale skin. Her eyes locked on Braden like she was sighting something that belonged to her. Elyna stiffened instantly. I shifted Braden higher on my hip as my whole body tensed.
Colette approached with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Well,” she said, “if it isn’t my grandson.”
Before I could react, she reached forward and plucked him from my arms.
My heart slammed once, hard. “Give him back,” I said, voice low.
Colette ignored me, clutching Braden like a prize. “Oh, my sweet boy,” she cooed, kissing his cheek. “Nana’s missed you.”
Braden whimpered and his small hands pushed at her coat. Elyna’s voice came out tight and controlled. “Colette. That’s enough.”
Colette sighed like Elyna was being unreasonable, then finally handed him back too casually, too carelessly. I caught him against my chest and felt the tremor in Elyna’s hand as she steadied us both.
Colette smoothed her hair. “No need to get defensive. I’m just saying hello.”
“That’s not how you say hello,” I bit out.
Her gaze flicked over me, appraising, cold. “Still the protective type, I see. Tell me, have you seen Riley?”
Elyna froze beside me. “Why are you asking?”
Colette’s smile sharpened. “He mentioned he might come to town. Said he wanted to make things right.” She tilted her head, feigning innocence. “But the company he’s keeping these days… not the kind of people Val-Du-Lys wants around.”
My stomach tightened. “What kind of people?”
“Oh, you know,” she said, waving a manicured hand. “Big-city types. Friends from Montreal. They think they can make a little money here. It’s nothing you need to worry about.”
“Wrong,” I said flatly. “That’s exactly what I worry about.”
Colette’s mouth curved. “Well. You’ve certainly made yourself comfortable, haven’t you? Playing house with my grandson and his mother. But Riley will be back, Phoenix. And when he comes, I hope for Elyna’s sake she’s ready to answer for all the things she’s kept from him.”
“Enough,” Elyna said sharply. Her voice trembled, but her eyes didn’t waver. “You don’t get to rewrite what happened. Riley left me. You know that.”
Colette’s eyes narrowed, and for a heartbeat the mask slipped. “You’ve always been so sure of your version of things, haven’t you, Elyna? Just don’t be surprised when the truth shows up on your doorstep.”
She turned on her heel and disappeared into the crowd.
Elyna stood there, shaking, Braden pressed against her shoulder. I wanted to go after Colette, to tell her exactly what I thought of her twisted games, but one look at Elyna stopped me. She was pale, her eyes glassy.
“Hey,” I said quietly, brushing my thumb along her jaw. “She doesn’t get to ruin this for us. Not today.”
Elyna swallowed—her voice rough. “You heard what she said. Riley’s friends… the ones he owes money to. What if they’re here?”
“She’s baiting you,” I said, even though the thought made my stomach twist. “My dad and Becket are already looking into those messages. They’ll find out if he’s really in Montreal or not.”
“You think he’s still there?” she asked.
I hesitated. “I think… something’s off. The language in those texts, the timing. It doesn’t add up. But we’ll figure it out.”
Her eyes lifted to mine, searching. Then she nodded, slow, deliberate. “Okay.”
We moved back toward the market square, and I forced myself to focus on Braden, on his giggle when Elyna bounced him, on the way his small hands reached for the pumpkins. We bought one for the loft and another for the brewery. Somehow the tension began to ease, even if it never really left.
When we reached the pony rides, Elyna tried to protest again, but Braden’s excitement won. The handler lifted him onto the smallest pony, and I walked beside them, my hand steady on his back. Elyna snapped photos with her phone, her laughter light and soft.
Later, the three of us climbed onto the hay wagon.
The air was colder now, the sun slowly setting behind the orchard.
Braden fell asleep in Elyna’s arms halfway through the ride, his breath puffing warm against her scarf.
I wrapped an arm around them both, pulling the scratchy blanket higher over their shoulders.
The wagon creaked down the lane, lanterns were glowing in the distance. Around us, the town was alive with chatter and laughter, but my gaze kept focusing on the shadows between the trees, to the parked cars at the far end of the square.
Becket’s text came through: Got eyes near market. Nothing unusual yet. Stay visible.
I typed back one-handed: Copy. Colette’s stirring trouble.
Then I slid the phone away and focused on what mattered, on Elyna’s head against my chest, on the tiny hand resting over her heart, on the smell of her hair mixed with apples and smoke.
This was what I was fighting for.
This quiet. This peace. This feeling of being home.
If Riley or whoever was pretending to be Riley brought his “friends” anywhere near that, he’d find out just how far a Thorne would go to protect what was his.