Page 3 of Once Upon a Frosty Winter

Now, at twenty-six, I’ve finally found peace in my life. Eira is twenty and away at college, thank heavens. My apple orchard is a great success and a popular winter attraction. We have extravagant Christmas lights, ice sculptures, ice-skating on the lake, an apple cider café, and fun activities all through December until Christmas Day. It’s my one true joy in this life. My mother has long since passed away. I have no desire toevermarry again. And Eira has ruined me from ever wanting children. My only friend is Mira. She owns the beauty salon in town,Fairest of Them All.Quite frankly, my apple orchard and Mira are enough for me.

The bells jingle as I open the door to the salon. Mira is busy brushing Grace Sullivan’s hair, but she stops to look over at me. A huge smile spreads across her face. It’s so contagious that I can’t help but return it.

“Mira, Mira, Mira.” I beam as I walk toward her. Unfortunately, I then spot Fern, Fawn, and Merry sitting in chairs, waiting for their turn. My lips curl into a snarl before I can stop myself.Those old biddies.No doubt they’re hanging around more for the gossip than for their hair or nails.

“Hilda! What brings you in?” Mira asks. Her eyes are bright with excitement. Why Mira and I are best friends is one of life’s greatest mysteries. She’s friendly, warm, and… cute. Like cute-as-a-button adorable. A real-life Care Bear. She’s a tiny thing, with bright pink hair and glitter eyeshadow. I’d never. I have my natural raven hair, and my makeup is on the darker side, with thin arched brows. I have more of a harsher beauty, along with a standoffish personality. She’s loud andalwaysspreading cheer. Somehow, our opposites-attract friendship works. We just click. I can tolerate her bubbliness because it’s genuine. In fact, she’s the only person I know who is actually decent.

I give a curt nod to Grace and then look over to Chip and Sam, who are occupying the other chairs, before focusing back on Mira. “I’ve come to invite you to lunch, but it looks like you’re swamped today.”

Mira nods and chuckles. “This is the busiest time of year. Everyone wants to look their best for all the festivities. Plus, the masquerade ball at The Glass Slipper is coming up.”

Her cheeks turn a rosy pink as she smiles with far too much enthusiasm. Sweet Mira. A hopeless romantic that one. She’s always hounding me to get out there and date again. She doesn’t understand how the most beautiful woman is single. Easy. I’m not only beauty but also brains. I’ve been married. She hasn’t. Let her ask me those questions again after she’s had a husband for a while.

“Yes. I’m sure it’ll be a charming event.”

“Charming?” Mira giggles. “You’re still in your twenties, Hilda. Why do you talk like you’re an old hag? An uptight one at that.”

“She is uptight,” someone grumbles. Eyes narrowing, I scan the room, but nobody speaks again. Maybe I should accidentally spill bleach on all their hair just in case. Or slide by with a pair of scissors and take a few extra inches off…

“I’m sure these ladies wouldn’t mind sitting here while you go have lunch,” I say loudly, my voice dripping with a sickening sweetness. “After all, if you’re too tired, you might accidentally chop too much off or use the wrong color.”

Mira rolls her eyes as she reaches over to grab the curling iron. “Hilda.” Her tone is clearly a warning.

“Fine. Would you like for me to bring you something back?”

“Are you going to Old Man Winter’s?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Before Mira can say anything, Grace’s reflection looks back at me from the mirror. “I’m almost finished. Would you like for me to join you?”

“No,” I tell her flatly. I turn my eyes back on Mira, who looks disappointed but not surprised.

“A burger and an apple cider milkshake, please.”

“They have the most amazing apples,” Chip comments.

“Of course they do. They come from my orchard,” I say in a matter-of-fact tone.

“I know. I wanted to compliment you,” Chip explains. “Your orchard is a blessing to this town.”

It is a blessing. My orchard is like a winter wonderland in December, and in the spring and summer, a botanical garden. Year-round, it’s like walking through a fairy tale. That orchard means everything to me.

This has been enough small talk and being social for me. I place my hand on Mira’s shoulder and whisper, “I’ll be back with some lunch.”

“You’re a saint, Hilda,” she tells me, relief heavy in her voice.

Someone snorts. When my eyes scan the room, none are brave enough to own up to it.

Cowards.

“Have the day you deserve,” I coolly say to a group of them as I make my exit.

Old Man Winter’s is a mix between a fifties and a Christmas diner, serving classic American food such as burgers, fries, and milkshakes, along with all your favorite Christmas desserts. They’re famous, not only in Mistletoe Creek but nationally, for their apple pies and apple milkshakes. Rumors have spread that more chains are opening up, and they want to start selling their desserts in supermarkets and grocery stores all over.

If that’s true, my apple orchard will surpass the amount of income White’s farms make. I was never after the money, though. As far as I’m concerned, Eira can have all of it.

Feeling all eyes on me, I keep my chin high as I’m escorted to a booth. I was going to dine in, but fuck this. I’ll just have a cup of coffee and get my food to go. I’d rather not have an audience while I eat. Normally, the stares and whispers don’t bother me, but Eira is coming home this weekend, so I’m already on edge. If we could visit without the passive-aggressiveness, I wouldn’t be so stressed over her arrival. However, she’s incapable of having a civil conversation with me.

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