Page 16 of A Snowstorm & A Stronghorn

THE FIRE CRACKLES SOFTLYin the hearth. I lie awake, nestled against Bram’s broad chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing. His arm is draped protectively over my waist while his fur tickles my skin. The intimacy of our position, and the lingering scent of our lovemaking, should fill me with contentment. Instead, an uncomfortable knot forms in my stomach.

My gaze drifts to the window, where moonlight filters through the frost-covered glass. The world outside is silent, blanketed in snow. It’s beautiful and peaceful – everything my life hasn’t been these past months.

Memories of my mother flood my mind unbidden. Her laugh, the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled, and the comforting scent of her perfume. The ache of her absence hits me anew, sharp and raw. How can I be here, finding happiness, when she’s gone? The guilt washes over me in waves, threatening to pull me under.

I extract myself carefully from his embrace, trying not to wake him. He stirs slightly, a soft rumble escaping his throat, but doesn’t wake. I pad quietly across the room, wrapping myself in a blanket, and settle into the armchair by the window.

The moon hangs low in the sky, casting long shadows across the snow-covered landscape. It’s the same moon that shone down on me as I sat by my mother’s bedside, holding her hand through those final, agonizing nights. How can it be that only a few months have passed? It feels like a lifetime ago, and yet the pain is still so fresh.

I close my eyes, remembering the last conversation we had.

My mother’s voice was weak, but her eyes were clear as she looked at me. “Fiona, my darling,” she had said, her hand cool in mine. “Promise me something.”

“Anything, Mom,” I had replied, fighting back tears.

“Promise me you won’t let grief consume you. Live your life, find your happiness. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you. You’ve taken such good care of me, and when I’m gone, I want you to find someone who takes care of you.”

I had nodded, unable to speak past the lump in my throat, but now, as I sit here in the quiet of Bram’s cabin, I’m sure my mother would be happy for me, but is it too soon to be feeling this way? To be contemplating a future in this magical town, with the being who’s captured my heart?

The sound of rustling sheets pulls me from my reverie. I turn to see Bram sitting up, immediately focusing on me in the darkness.

“Fiona?” His voice is thick with sleep. “Is everything all right?”

I force a smile, though I know he can probably see right through it. “I’m fine. Just couldn’t sleep.”

He rises from the bed and crosses the room to me. Kneeling beside the chair, he takes my hand in his, and his touch is impossibly gentle. “What’s troubling you?” he asks, his gaze searching mine.

I open my mouth to brush off his concern, but the words stick in my throat. Instead, I tell him everything – about my mother’s illness, her final days, and the promise I made. The words pour out of me, and with them, the tears I’ve been holding back.

Bram listens silently, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of my hand. When I finally fall quiet, he pulls me into his arms, cradling me against his chest. “Oh, Fiona,” he whispers, his voice rumbling through me, “I’m so sorry. I had no idea you were carrying all of this.”

I bury my face in his fur, inhaling his comforting scent. “I just... I don’t know if I should be feeling this way. If I should be happy when she’s gone. It feels like I’m betraying her somehow.”

He pulls back slightly, cupping my face in his hands, eyes filled with understanding and compassion. “Listen to me. Your mother wanted you to be happy. Finding joy doesn’t diminish your love for her or the pain of your loss. It honors her memory.”

His words are authentic, but the guilt still lingers. “It’s only been two months. Isn’t it too soon?”

He shakes his head. “There’s no timeline for grief, and no right or wrong way to feel. Your heart knows what it needs. If you’ve found something here – in Evershift Haven, with me – that brings you peace, that’s not something to feel guilty about. It’s a gift.”

I want to believe him, but the doubt gnaws at me. “I just... I need some time to process all of this. To figure out what I’m feeling.”

He nods, his expression understanding but tinged with sadness. “Of course. Take all the time you need. I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk.”

He starts to rise, but I catch his hand. “Will you... will you just hold me for a while?”

Without a word, Bram scoops me up in his arms and carries me back to the bed. He settles us both down, wrapping me in his warmth. I curl into him, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

As I lie there, surrounded by Bram’s comforting presence, I try to sort through the tangle of emotions inside me. The grief for my mother is still there, but alongside it, there’s something else – a sense of possibility that I haven’t felt in a long time.

I think about what my mother would say if she could see me now. Would she be disappointed that I’ve found happiness so soon after her passing? Or would she be glad that I’ve stumbled upon this magical place, this gentle soul who seems to understand me in a way no one else ever has? Even as I think that, I know the answer. She’d never want me to be unhappy.

The moonlight shifts, casting new shadows across the room. I watch them dance on the walls, remembering how my mother used to tell me stories about the moon and stars when I was little. She always encouraged my sense of wonder and my belief in magic.

“Mom,” I whisper, so softly I’m not sure if I’ve actually spoken aloud. “I miss you so much. I wish you were here to tell me what to do.”

As if in answer, a gentle breeze rustles the curtains, carrying with it the faint scent of wildflowers – my mother’s favorite. For a moment, I could swear I feel her presence, warm and comforting.

I close my eyes, letting the memories wash over me. My mother’s laughter as we baked cookies together. The pride in her eyes when I graduated college. The way she always knew exactly what to say to make me feel better when I was down.

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