Page 100 of Wildflower and Whiskey
“I think so,” she said. “That was… harder than I thought. But also, good. For Braden and for me.”
That evening, we went to the main house. Becket and Asher were on the porch, drinking coffee that smelled like bourbon. Harmony was inside helping Dad sort through patrol reports. Dad looked up when we entered. “So,” he said, “our little town can rest again. For now. Marcel is facing some serious time in prison.”
“Did he know about the kidnapping plan?” I asked.
“No, doesn’t seem to be the case. He was only interested in getting the Montreal crew out of his territory. But we didn’t get Nico Mercier or Olivier Bellerose,” Dad said of Harmony’s brother and ex-boyfriend. “We couldn’t make any connections to them and Marcel’s business.”
Harmony winced. “I don’t believe that for a second.”
“Sorry, Harmony,” Dad said with empathy. “Let’s hope those two don’t start stirring trouble.”
“Olivier is going to be angry with me for sending my dad away,” Harmony said.
“That’s only if he finds out you were involved,” Dad replied. “I know it was hard for you to share the information you gave us.”
Harmony smiled sadly. “I felt like I didn’t have a choice. He’s done enough harm to Val-Du-Lys to last a lifetime. Hopefully I can give the people here some peace.”
“You deserve peace too,” Dad said to her.
A sad chuckle escaped her. “I don’t know about that. Trouble seems to have a way of following me.”
“You’re a good person, Harmony. Don’t let yourself forget that,” Dad said.
Harmony stood up then. “Thank you for letting me stay last night, Pierre. I’m going to head back to the city soon.”
“You don’t have to thank me, although, you are welcome to stay longer,” Dad said, his gaze drifting to the next room where Eric was hiding out.
“I appreciate that, but my life is in Montreal now. With the threats gone, I should head back,” she explained.
“Just stay safe,” Dad blinked.
“I will.” Harmony smiled a little. “And tell Eric to stop pretending he doesn’t still care. He’s terrible at hiding it.”
We all started laughing.
“He’s a Thorne. None of you hide anything well.” Elyna chuckled.
We walked home under the glow of the porch lights, Braden half-asleep in his stroller.
Elyna stopped halfway down the lane. “You think Riley’s mother meant it? That she wants to be part of Braden’s life?”
“I think she does,” I said. “And I think you’ll know how to make it work.”
She nodded, eyes on the horizon. “Maybe that’s what forgiveness really looks like not forgetting, just choosing not to let the past ruin what’s next.”
“Sounds like something my dad would say,” I murmured.
She smiled faintly. “Then he’s smarter than both of us.”
That night, when I tucked Braden in, he murmured his new favorite word, “Da.”
It hit me all over again how fragile life was, and how lucky we were to still be standing together. Elyna came up behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist. “He’s going to grow up safe,” she whispered.
“He already is.”
I turned, kissed her forehead, and held her there in the dark until the quiet felt like home again. Outside, the orchard was covered in frost. The chime above the porch door pinged once, soft and harmless, and then went still. This time, the silence didn’t ask me to listen for danger. It just asked me to stay.
EPILOGUE
