Page 11 of A Snowstorm & A Stronghorn

“Looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us,” he says, coming to stand beside me. His massive frame dwarfs mine, but I no longer flinch at his presence.

I turn to look up at him, taking in his rugged features. “What’s the plan?”

“First things first, we need to clear the roof. Too much snow can cause it to collapse.”

I nod, determination setting in. “Let’s do it.”

We bundle up in warm layers, and he hands me a long-handled snow rake. He demonstrates how to use it, his movements graceful despite his size.

“Start from the edge and work your way up,” he instructs. “Be careful not to pull too much snow down at once.”

I follow his lead, finding a rhythm in the repetitive motion. It’s hard work, and I’m soon sweating despite the cold, but there’s something satisfying about seeing the progress we’re making.

“You’re a natural,” he calls out, a hint of admiration in his voice. Maybe something more. Flirtation?

I grin, feeling a spark of pride. “Maybe I missed my calling as a professional snow remover.”

He chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound that sends an unexpected warmth through me. “I’m sure Evershift Haven could use your skills. We get quite a bit of snow here whenever the town is in the mood for it.”

As we work, we fall into an easy banter. I pepper Bram with questions about the town and its inhabitants, fascinated by this hidden world.

“So, do all the residents have some kind of magical ability?” I ask, pausing to catch my breath.

Bram leans on his rake, considering. “Not exactly. Some are magical creatures, like myself. Others are humans with magical talents, and some are just regular folks who’ve found their way here and decided to stay.”

“How does someone ‘find their way’ to a hidden magical town?”

A mischievous glint appears in Bram’s amber eyes. “Sometimes, they take a wrong turn in a snowstorm and crash into a tree.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “Touché, but seriously, how does it work?”

“The town has ways of calling to those who need it,” he says, his tone growing more serious. “People who are lost and searching for something they can’t quite name. Evershift Haven has a knack for finding them and offering them a home.”

I fall silent, pondering his words. Is that why I’m here? Because I’m lost?

We continue working, and I keep looking at him more and more. I catch myself staring, wondering what he looks like under his clothes, and quickly look away, hoping he hasn’t noticed.

“Watch out,” he suddenly shouts.

I look up to see a large chunk of snow sliding off the roof, heading straight for me. Before I can react, he’s there, pulling me out of harm’s way. We tumble into a snowbank with his arms wrapped protectively around me.

For a moment, we lie there, our faces inches apart. Heat radiates from his body, and there’s an earthy scent to his fur. My heart thrums, and it’s not just from the near-miss.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice low and concerned.

I nod, suddenly very aware of our proximity. “Thanks to you.”

He helps me to my feet, his touch lingering a moment longer than necessary. We brush the snow off our clothes while an awkward silence falls between us.

“Maybe we should take a break? How about some hot chocolate?”

“That sounds perfect,” I say, grateful for the distraction.

Inside the cabin, I shed my outer layers while Bram busies himself in the kitchen. I sink into the cozy armchair by the fire, watching him move about with surprising grace for someone his size.

“So,” I say, trying to recapture our earlier ease, “Tell me more about your woodworking. How did you get into it?”

He seems energized by the question as he brings over two steaming mugs of hot chocolate and settles into the chair opposite me. “It’s a family tradition. My grandfather taught my father, and my father taught me. There’s something magical about taking a raw piece of wood and coaxing it into something beautiful and useful.”

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