Page 21 of A Snowstorm & A Stronghorn

Chapter 6

THE WHIRLWIND OF ACTIVITYsurrounding Thalinda’s impromptu welcome party leaves me dizzy. In just a day, she’s transformed the town square into a festive wonderland, assuring me Evershift Haven did the hard part, shifting for the mood.

Colorful banners flutter between lamp posts, their magical glow intensifying as twilight descends. Tables groan under the weight of an eclectic potluck feast—everything from shimmering fairy cakes to what I suspect might be troll-made meatballs, since there’s a troll hovering near them, carefully watching all who take a serving and nodding with satisfaction.

Thalinda, a force of nature in her floral-print dress, guides me from one group to the next. Her booming voice carries across the square as she makes introductions.

“Fiona, darling, you simply must meet Bella Brewster. She runs The Enchanted Espresso—best coffee this side of the magical realm!”

“We’ve met.”

“In that case...” Before I can say more, Thalinda whisks me away to meet Throk Ironheart, the orc mechanic. His massive green hands engulf mine in a surprisingly gentle handshake.

“Heard about your car trouble. We’ll summon it when you’re settled, and I’ll give it a once-over to fix the damage and make sure there’s no lingering curse damage.”

“Curse damage?” I ask, wide-eyed.

Throk smiles. “You’d be surprised what can happen on those mountain roads, but don’t worry, I’ve got a special enchanted car wash that’ll take care of any hexes along with the mud.”

The introductions blur together—Etienne and Crystal St. John, the vampire couple who run the ‘Moonlit Inn,’ Sage Bookworm, the elderly elf librarian, and Caelan, the fire demon chef at ‘Beastly Bites.’ I lose track of names after that, but each face is kind, and each welcome is genuine. Still, the sheer number of new names and magical beings threatens to overwhelm me.

I spot a break in the crowd and seize my chance. “Excuse me,” I murmur to Thalinda. “I just need a moment of fresh air.”

She pats my arm. “Of course, dear. Take all the time you need. We’ll be here when you’re ready to rejoin the festivities.”

I slip away, weaving through the cheerful throng until I reach the edge of the square. A stone bench beneath an ancient oak tree offers a quiet refuge. I sink onto it, letting out a long breath.

The sounds of the party fade as I close my eyelids. In the sudden quiet, memories of my mother flood back. I see her smile and hear her laugh. The ache of her absence hits me anew. “Oh, Mom,” I whisper. “I wish you could see this place. You’d love it here.”

“I’m sure she would,” says a gentle voice.

My eyelids snap open to see Grizelda.

I manage a small smile. “It’s nice to see you again, Grizelda.”

Grizelda settles onto the bench beside me. “How are you holding up?”

I consider deflecting with a polite, “I’m fine,” but something in Grizelda’s kind eyes encourages honesty.

“I’m overwhelmed. Everyone’s been so welcoming, but it’s a lot to take in, and being here, surrounded by all this magic and wonder, makes me miss my mom even more.”

She nods, her expression sympathetic. “Loss is never easy, especially when it’s someone as close as a mother. Would you like to tell me about her?”

The invitation opens a floodgate. Words pour out of me, painting a picture of Elspeth MacLean—her fiery spirit, her quick wit, and her unshakable love. I describe our movie nights, our inside jokes, and the way she’d always known exactly what to say when I was struggling.

“She sounds like a remarkable woman,” she says when I finally fall silent.

“She was.” I wipe away a stray tear. “She was my best friend as much as being my mother. I just... I keep wondering what she’d think of all this. Of me being here, in this magical town. Of...” I hesitate, then push on. “Of my growing feelings for Bram.”

Grizelda’s eyes twinkle. “Ah, our master Stonehorn has caught your attention, has he?”

I nod, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks. “He’s been so kind and patient. Yet part of me worries that moving on, finding happiness here... It’s somehow a betrayal of my mom’s memory.”

“Oh, my dear, from everything you’ve told me about Elspeth, I have no doubt she’d want nothing more than for you to be happy. Mothers don’t stop loving their children just because they’re no longer with us. Your joy would be her joy.”

Her words make me feel better. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” she says firmly. “As a mother myself, I can tell you there’s nothing I want more than for my daughter to find her place in the world and to build a life filled with love and purpose.”

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