Page 22 of A Snowstorm & A Stronghorn

My eyebrows rise. “You have a daughter?”

She smiles. “I do indeed. Or, I will soon enough.” She pats her belly, and I realize with a start that there’s a gentleswell beneath her flowing robes. “She’s due to make her grand entrance in about four months.”

“Congratulations,” I say, genuinely delighted by the news. “That’s wonderful.”

“Thank you.” Grizelda beams. “It’s been quite the adventure already. Just last week, I sneezed during a protection spell and accidentally turned all the pickles in town into singing cucumbers. Pregnancy and magic can be an interesting combination.”

I laugh, picturing jars of pickles bursting into song. “I can imagine. Do you know if it’s a girl, or are you just hoping?”

Grizelda’s eyes twinkle mischievously. “Let’s just say, I have a strong intuition. My husband, Atlas, is convinced it’s a boy. We have a rather elaborate magical bet going. The loser has to change all the diapers for the first month.”

“That’s quite a stakes,” I say, grinning. “I hope you’re right, for your sake.”

“Oh, I am,” she says with absolute certainty. “I can already feel her magic, you know. It’s wild and unpredictable, just like her mother’s. I have a feeling she’s going to keep us on our toes.”

As Grizelda continues to chat about her pregnancy cravings for glowworm gelato and thunder cloud cotton candy, and her plans for the nursery, designing a room that changes seasons with the baby’s mood, I relax. The grief that’s been my constant companion these past months eases just a fraction.

I glance back toward the town square, where the party is still in full swing. Bram stands at the edge of the crowd, visibly scanning the area. When he spots me, his face breaks into a warm smile that makes my heart skip a beat.

Grizelda follows my gaze and chuckles. “The universe has a way of leading us exactly where we need to be, even if it’s not where we thought we were going. Maybe your car breaking down wasn’t just an accident.”

I consider her words, looking out over the twinkling lights of Evershift Haven. “Maybe you’re right,” I say softly. “Maybe this is exactly where I’m meant to be.” Grizelda’s words give me courage to rejoin the party. I stand, smoothing my dress. “Thank you for listening.”

“Anytime.” She waves me off with a knowing smile.

I weave through the crowd back toward the center of the square. The music shifts to something slower, more romantic—a melody that seems to float on the evening air. Couples pair off, swaying together beneath the magical lights.

Bram approaches, his massive form moving with surprising grace. “Would you care to dance?”

My heart flutters. “I’d love to.”

His large hands engulf mine as he draws me close. Despite our height difference, we fit together perfectly—my head resting just below his shoulder as his arms create a warm circle around me. We move in slow circles, and I breathe in his scent of pine and wood smoke.

“Are you enjoying your welcome party?” Bram’s voice rumbles above me.

“It’s wonderful. Your mother really outdid herself.”

“She’s been planning it since the moment she met you.”

I laugh. “That was only yesterday!”

“Mother doesn’t waste time once she sets her mind to something.”

The music swells, and Bram spins me in a gentle twirl. When I return to his arms, our gazes lock. He leans down, and his breath is warm against my face. My eyes drift closed...

A sharp crack splits the air. Someone screams. My eyes snap open as chunks of snow and ice rain down from the roof of the nearby gazebo. The weight of accumulated snow has proven too much for the structure.

“Everyone back.” Grizelda raises her hands, streaming purple magic from her fingers to create a shimmering dome over our heads. The falling debris bounces off harmlessly.

Then Grizelda’s nose twitches.

“Oh, no,” she says. “Not now. ACHOO!”

Her sneeze sends a pulse of magic through her protective spell. The snow swirls and condenses, forming hundreds of perfect snowballs that hover in the air for one suspended moment before dropping into neat piles all around us.

Atlas rushes to his wife’s side. “Are you all right, my love?”

Grizelda sniffles, then starts to laugh. “That’s one way to clear a roof. Though I must say, these pregnancy-enhanced sneezes are getting rather explosive.”

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