Finding Ever After: four fairytale-ish novellas

by Pepper Basham

  While Griff finished packing up their workstation and mentally kicking himself for letting it go that far, he’d looked up and realized Harper had vanished too. It was just him, Ronny, and the workers from Northgate Appliance with their dollies, ready to load the donated ovens into the back of their truck. Ronny had come over and offered a few words of wisdom.

  “Got yourself a sister triangle, huh?” He’d pulled off his beanie and rubbed his hand over his thinning hair.

  Griff shook his head. “No sir. There’s only one sister I care about.”

  “I knew I liked you.” Ronny clapped him on the shoulder. “That Maggie—she’s a keeper.”

  He knew. “You remember her now?”

  “Oh, I always did.” Ronny laughed. “I just had her name wrong. Her sister always called her Margaret—it threw me off. Maggie’s a favorite around these parts. ‘Lips red as the rose, hair black as ebony, skin white as snow’.”

  He’d heard that line before, but couldn’t place it.

  The older man continued. “She’s such a kind soul. One time she brought me a little bird that had flown into a cabin window. Stunned itself pretty good. I gave her a few tips, and she nurtured it back to life, good as new. I hated seeing her sad.” He raised a bushy eyebrow in warning at Griff. “I still do.”

  He did too. “I’m going to do my best to fix that, sir.” Griff hooked the basket full of tarts and leftover ingredients over his arm and headed back for the cabin.

  Now, Maggie was nowhere to be seen. Probably hiding from him, as he would if he were her. He should have come clean about his past ties to Harper sooner—much sooner. Or better yet, not have agreed to this crazy plan in the first place.

  But then he wouldn’t have fallen for Maggie. And that was an unacceptable alternative.

  He headed up the stairs. Before he could reach his room, Maggie stepped into the hallway directly in his path.

  He hesitated, as one might before a startled deer in the woods. Her red-rimmed gaze held him arrested, but he couldn’t read her expression. It was drawn dark and tight, like one of those sun-blocking curtains.

  She lifted her chin. “You’re back.”

  She’d been crying. Because of him. He wanted to wrap her in his arms, but he didn’t deserve to hold her. This whole situation looked bad—really bad—and he had no proof. No evidence to show her that she was the only sister he’d ever truly cared about.

  “I brought your stuff back.” He gestured down the stairs. “I’m really sorry about today. I shouldn’t have pushed you to enter. I still can’t believe you didn’t win.”

  She hugged her arms against her blue sweater. “It’s okay. Carolyn deserved it. Her cookies were amazing.”

  “You ate one?”

  Maggie nodded. “We had a good talk this afternoon. I’ve been wrong…about a lot of things.” She rolled in her bottom lip.

  He wanted her to roll it back out so he could kiss it. But he held himself in check, shoving his hands into the back pocket of his jeans. Just because she and Carolyn had worked things out, didn’t mean she was willing or able to forgive him. “I’m sorry I wasn’t honest about your sister.”

  He waited for the automatic step correction that didn’t come. Strange. He pushed forward while he had the chance. “I know you’ll probably never forgive me, but I want you to know, that Harper was a college fling. An infatuation at best. I’ve got nothing for her now.”

  Maggie nodded slowly, her make-up smudged eyes taking him in. But that dang curtain hadn’t shifted an inch. What was she thinking?

  “I should have told you up front.”

  She nodded again. Then paused. “Is that why you came, initially? Because of her?”

  He wouldn’t lie anymore. “Yes.”

  Her gaze dropped to their feet.

  He ducked his head to catch her eyes and draw her up again. “But not because of what you think. Not because of being interested in her.” He sighed. “It’s a long story, but Harper hurt me. We weren’t together long, but she humiliated me in front of our friends, and she used me. She was never into the relationship at all, and cut me down for not being wealthy or successful. I was young, dumb and didn’t handle it well. It left a mark.” He paused a beat. “Honestly, it just heaped coals to the fire I was already fighting with my dad at the time.”

  Maggie was listening, and not arguing—or throwing things at his head, so he continued. “When I realized she was your stepsister in your store that day, I agreed to come because I thought it’d be a chance to show her I’d made something of myself.” He shrugged. “I also came because you’re my friend, and I wanted to help you out.”

  “I’m your friend?”

  “I hope so. If I haven’t ruined it too badly.” He wanted more than friendship—a lot more, but he’d take what he could get. Maybe he’d have a chance to gain her trust back. It’d take time, but he was more than willing to put in the work if she’d let him. “I’m good at fixing things, remember?”

  A slight smile cracked the surface, like a shimmer of light finding its way through the curtain. Then the shadows returned. “How can I believe you?”

  He had no idea. Then he remembered. “Come here.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his room. “Close your eyes.”

  She stiffened. “Griff, I really—”

  “Please? And hold out your hands.”

  He wanted until she acquiesced with a sigh, then grabbed the plastic store bag he’d stashed behind the dresser. He pulled the book free and set it in her hands. “Open them.”

  She looked at the book, and a gasp escaped. She ran her finger over the light brown cover, then gingerly opened the worn pages. “Finding Ever After,” she read. She looked up. “What is this?”

  “For your store.” Griff’s heart thundered hard against his ribcage at the softening of her expression. This was it. He still had a chance. “When we were shopping the other day, I found it—in the same shop that we kissed in.”

  A blush immediately tinted her cheeks, and his own chest burned with the memory. “I got it for you. It seemed…special.” That was the word he’d confessed about Maggie to Sam. Special. And looking at her made the word suddenly feel very subpar.

  “This is incredible. This book must be a hundred years old. And all my favorites are here! Rapunzel. Beauty and the Beast. Cinderella.” She turned the pages carefully, pausing to run her palm over the water-colored images. “Look, there’s even little notes in the margins.” She turned the large volume sideways to read one of the hand-scribbled inscriptions.

  “It was going to be a victory gift after the contest, but I think it’s meant for more than that.” Griff watched her eyes light with each title that flipped past. “The guy that sold it to me—he said some pretty cryptic stuff.”

  “Don’t follow your heart unless your head is in agreement.” Maggie read from one of the water-colored pages. “Emotions are fickle things unless paired with good sense.”

  “Yeah, like that.” Wait. Exactly that. A rush of adrenaline flooded his veins. No way. “How did you know—”

  “It’s right here.” She pointed to the page.

  It was a sign—it had to be. He could almost feel Sam cheering him on. This was his moment. “Maggie, I know I broke your trust with my secret, and you might not ever forgive—”

  “I forgive you.” She looked up from the book, drawing a deep breath.

  He blinked. Just like that?

  “I’ve been learning today that I’ve been wrong on a lot of things.” She shut the book and held it up. “I love fairy tales, but I’m hindering my own happily ever after with all my negative assumptions. I did that with my family and missed out on a lot—I don’t want to do that with you, too.”

  Hope threatened to burst inside him. He willed himself to go slowly. Not spook her.

  She hugged the book against her chest. “Besides, if you were hung up on Harper, even a little, you wouldn’t have thought of me when you saw this book.”

  “That’
s true.” He nodded, moving closer to her.

  “Or paid for it.”

  Also true. It hadn’t been cheap. He eased forward two more steps.

  She swallowed hard as he approached, her gaze dropping to his chin. “Or kissed me like that after buying it.”

  “You know what’s not a secret?” He took a chance and tugged her close, the book wedged between them. “That I want to kiss you again.”

  “It’s a little obvious.” She looked up at him through her lashes, and his resolve to go slow melted like snow in spring. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. Her lashes fluttered.

  He kissed her left check. Then her right.

  She murmured in the back of her throat, her breath hitching. “I guess it’s not a secret I want you to.”

  He pulled back a little to study her face—the soft curves of her pale neck, the gentle slope of her nose, her high cheekbones. “You know, your geek squad told me that once I bit into one of your tarts, I’d have wished I agreed to come sooner.”

  She raised her dark eyebrows. “Were they right?”

  He shrugged. “Well, the tarts are okay, I guess.”

  She playfully cuffed him on the shoulder.

  His smile faded, and he pulled the book from between them and set it on the dresser. Then he tightened his arms around her waist. Man, she felt good in his arms. A perfect fit. “I do wish I’d fallen for you a lot sooner, Maggie Craft.”

  She tilted her chin up toward him, hazel eyes dancing. “There’s no time like the present.”

  He offered her a mock-frown. “What other clichés are you going to pop out with?”

  She pretended to think. “Shut up and kiss me?”

  “That one I like.” Then, with his head and his heart perfectly aligned, he covered her lips with his, relishing the tang of green apples and the sweetness of cinnamon—and happily ever after.

  June - Five months later

  The pastor's final words still rang in Maggie's ears. You may now kiss the bride.

  And boy, had he.

  Her chest warmed under her white strapless dress as she placed her hand atop Griff's on the cutting knife. He smiled down at her, more than handsome than ever in a light gray tuxedo. He'd bartered for a plaid shirt underneath, but she'd stood her ground. He got to pick the cake flavor instead.

  "Ready?" His deep voice resonated in her heart, and she couldn’t wait to hear it every day for the rest of her life.

  She grinned. "Ready." Waiting. Anticipating. Expectant.

  Together, they pressed down and the knife sliced through the red velvet cake with ease. The gathered crowd of friends and family cheered as she ducked the piece that Griff tried to smash on her chin.

  He leaned over and kissed a smudge of icing from her cheek instead. Next to the cake, a large punch bowl and a full basket of mini apple tarts waited to be enjoyed, nestled amidst a pile of her favorite fairytale books and Funko Pop figurines.

  "I still can't believe you baked for your own wedding." Griff followed her gaze to the brimming basket of tarts.

  She snorted. "I still can't believe you agreed to help."

  "I'm your best sous-chef, remember?"

  She'd never forget. “Make that forever sous-chef.” She pressed a soft kiss to his lips. His eyes warmed and he kissed her back.

  "Hey, break it up. The honeymoon isn't until later." Dave and Moe joined them at the reception table, hands out, ready for cake.

  Maggie surrendered the knife to the apron-clad server who waited patiently behind them. "Better make it quick, before these guys start eating with their hands."

  "We washed them." Moe held his palms up for inspection as Kyle walked up behind them.

  "Hey, that's a nice suit.” Dave eyed Griff. “I didn't know people still got married in tuxes."

  "Like you're an expert." Kyle scoffed. "You wore suspenders."

  Dave huffed as he popped his suspenders against his skinny chest. "I have it on good authority these are in right now. Why don't you pick up a magazine for once in your life instead of a comic book?"

  "I read magazines."

  "Ones that aren't about gaming tips and cheats?"

  "Well, no." Kyle narrowed his eyes, staring at Griff, who still remained in hearing distance. "Hey, what do you think his call name would be?"

  "Oh, that’s easy. Huntsman99." Dave didn't even hesitate.

  “Guys. Come on. Back off my husband.” Maggie started to shoo them away, then stopped as their gazes fixed on something behind her and their bodies froze, mid-movement.

  Harper sauntered up in a gauzy, periwinkle blue bridesmaid dress, flaunting the bouquet of peonies and baby's breath she'd caught earlier in the reception. Saved by the sister. Moe, Dave and Kyle immediately straightened their shoulders and tried to appear taller and broader.

  Her gaze flickered over them, then locked on Maggie. "Hey, Sis. Mom says it's time to throw the garter."

  Sis. It still felt a little strange, this new dynamic with Harper, and yet really good, all at the same time. Her dad would have been so proud—of her developing friendship with her sister, of her marriage to Griff. The fuzzy feeling inside that’d made Maggie feel like she’d been glowing all day warmed a little deeper.

  "That's what I'm talking about—the garter. That’s the best part." Griff waggled his eyebrows at Maggie and she laughed. But really she just wanted to kiss him again. She leaned in to do just that but was interrupted by Harper clapping her hands.

  "Come on, single men!" Harper gestured to gather together the bachelors. "Who can catch?" Men of all ages immediately set down their punch cups and flocked her to like pigeons to bread.

  Maggie sat on the white wicker chair provided by the wedding coordinator, and Griff reached under the flowing skirt of her dress to slip the garter from her knee. Lester tried to wolf whistle, but ended up in a coughing fit.

  "Ready, gentlemen?" Griff stood, holding up the lacy garter, and pantomimed shooting it. Then he turned with his back to the crowd, aimed, and let it fly.

  The white fabric soared through the air. Six of her book club buddies jumped to catch it. Dave and Dan accidently chest-bumped off each other. Moe tripped. And the garter landed squarely on Lester’s shoulder.

  All faces swiveled to Harper, whose eyes widened. She looked down at the tell-tale bouquet in her hands, then quickly stashed it behind her back.

  "Ready for that honeymoon, Mrs. Massey?" Griff held out his hand and pulled Maggie to her feet. "I'm desperate for some cabin-in-the-woods time with you."

  “I’d go anywhere with you.”

  “Good thing, because the deposit was non-refundable.” Griff’s eyes registered over Maggie’s shoulder, and he nodded toward the cake table. “Hey, Carolyn has your book.”

  “Which one?” Maggie craned her neck to see around the crowd lining up for cake. They’d displayed several of her literary treasures all over the reception hall, so there was no telling which one had caught her stepmother’s interest.

  “Your favorite. Finding Ever After.” Griff raised one eyebrow at her. “Want me to go tell her paws off?”

  “Of course not.” She watched her stepmother thumb through the pages, pausing to turn the book sideways to read the margins, just like Maggie had done. Like mother, like daughter? Maggie smiled. “I think it’s her turn next.”

  The End

  About the Author

  Bio:

  Betsy St. Amant Haddox is the author of over fifteen inspirational romance novels and novellas. She resides in north Louisiana with her newlywed-ish hubby, two story-telling young daughters, a collection of Austen novels, and an impressive stash of Pickle Pringles. Betsy has a B.A. in Communications and a deep-rooted passion for seeing women restored in Christ. When she's not composing her next book, watching her hunky hubby play drums, or trying to prove unicorns are real, Betsy can usually be found somewhere in the vicinity of a white-chocolate mocha. She blogs frequently at www.ibelieve.com, a devotional site for women. Visit her at http://www.betsystama
nt. com.

  Also by Betsy St. Amant

  All’s Fair in Love and Cupcakes

  Love Arrives in Pieces

  To Have and To Hold – Three Autumn Love Stories

  Winter Brides: A Year of Weddings Novella Collection

  Addison Blakely: Confessions of a PK

  Bonus Recipe: Maggie’s Rustic Caramel Apple Tart

  (contributed by Lori Chally)

  Ingredients:

  1 disc store-bought or homemade pie dough

  3 apples (mix of Granny Smith, Gala, or Fiji), peeled and sliced 1/8-1/4” thick (about 4 C.)

  1 teaspoon fresh lemon zest

  1 teaspoon fresh lemon juice

  1/3 cup sugar

  ½ teaspoon vanilla

  1 teaspoon cinnamon

  ¼ teaspoon nutmeg

  2 tablespoons melted butter

  dash of salt

  1 tablesppon flour

  1 egg beaten

  turbinado or coarse sanding sugar

  1 jar caramel sauce (or favorite recipe homemade)

  To prepare pie crust for recipe, follow package directions to unroll dough, or roll out your favorite homemade pie dough recipe into a 14” circle. Place pie crust onto a cookie sheet. (It’s okay if the edges of the circle hang over the sides of the pan for now!)

  For filling: Combine apples, lemon juice and zest, sugar, vanilla, cinnamon, nutmeg, melted butter, and salt in a bowl. Toss to combine.

  Sprinkle 1 T. flour over pie crust that is waiting for you on the cookie sheet. Beginning 3 inches from the edge, layer apple slices over each other in concentric circles, until the crust is covered. Fold the outside 3 inches of crust up over the apples, pleating and tucking as you go. No need for perfection; it’s supposed to be rustic!