Page 1 of Once Upon an Enchanted Kiss

Prologue

Late Winter, Present Day

Inthedarkestdaysof winter, when the cold was relentless and the days were dreary and cloudy, Hilde made her way to Drumchapel Village to visit her sister and niece. Snow fell in earnest as she stepped out of the cab in front of the house at 323 Crown Lane and peered up at the large white house, a sense of melancholy washing over her.

Her brother-in-law, Jack, passed away unexpectantly leaving behind his wife of thirteen years and his daughter who was nine. Now, Marigold would grow up without a father. Hilde had only spoken to her sister, Linnea, briefly on the phone when she called to give her the news. She dropped everything and returned to the village to be with her family. The only family she had left.

The sun was setting behind the house as she hurried up the walkway to the front door. She’d visited several times in the past, of course, but this time was different. Jack would not be snoozing in his favorite recliner in front of old movies.

Finally, she rang the bell. Linnea opened the door minutes later looking exhausted. Dark circles were under her eyes. Her face was devoid of makeup and her clothes were wrinkled. Almost as though she had slept in them. She gave her sister a faint smile. She reached out for a hug, holding Hilde tight before stepping back.

“I’m glad you’re here.” She waved her inside.

Hilde swiped the snow off her boots before entering. She slipped off her coat and hung it on the nearby coatrack as Linnea moved deeper into the silent house. Normally, the television would be on, but today it was dark and quiet.

“Would you like some coffee? I just made a pot,” Linnea said.

“I’d love some.”

She preferred black tea, but didn’t want to make her sister do extra work. Coffee would suffice and warm her tired, cold bones. She paused in the living room, glancing around at the well-worn furniture. Jack’s recliner had seen better days, the material of the chair threadbare. The floral sofa was horrible to sit on with the sinking cushions. Hilde opted for the oversized blue wing-backed chair instead.

Perching on the edge, her gaze landed on the mantle over the fireplace that was cluttered with family photographs. The three of them smiling in happier days. Before Marigold’s mysterious illness forced her in and out of the hospital. Before Jack was killed in a car accident that took his life away with an abruptness that left everyone in shock. Before Linnea was left with a young daughter, a mortgage, and facing decisions about what to do next.

It pained her to think about her sister going through it all.

She couldn’t allow her sister to be alone during this time.

Linnea came from the kitchen carrying two mismatched steaming mugs of coffee. She handed one to Hilde, then sat in Jack’s recliner. Linnea never sat in Jack’s recliner, but she understood why she did now.

“Thanks for coming on such short notice,” Linnea said.

“You’re my sister. I had to come. How are you?” Hilde sipped the dark brew and tried not to frown at the bitterness.

“I’m doing what I need to do.” She clutched the mug between her hands, the steam rising and clouding her face.

“Are you sleeping?” she asked.

“Some.” Linnea gave her a faint smile. “I’m not used to sleeping alone anymore.”

“And Marigold? How is she?”

Linnea glanced upward where the girl’s bedroom was above their heads. “She took it hard.”

Hilde’s hand tightened around the mug. “Did she have a relapse?”

“Not yet,” Linnea said.

The mysterious illness came and went at will, it seemed. The doctors didn’t know what was wrong with her even after running every possible test and taking multiple vials of blood. Nothing showed up on the blood work or the MRIs or CT scans.

Hilde had a suspicion what the illness could be, but she didn’t dare mention it to Linnea. Her sister would deny it and refuse to believe such a thing.

Growing up, Linnea dreamed of having the perfect, picturesque suburban life. To have a house, a picket fence, kids, and a husband. Maybe a dog or a cat. And for a while, she managed to have that dream. Jack was deathly allergic to all animals, so pets were out of the question. Marigold, though, was the center of their universe. The brightest light in their life. She was their only child because Linnea was unable to bear any more children.

“Well,” Hilde said at last, “I hope she doesn’t.”

“She’s upstairs, if you want to see her. She rarely comes out of her room since the accident. I’m afraid she’ll refuse to go to the funeral tomorrow,” Linnea said. “I think she’s in denial.”

Hilde glanced at the stairs leading to the upstairs bedrooms. The last time she visited Marigold in her room was Christmas Eve when she was six and she told her the story of Ella and her Christmas prince. Perhaps it was time for another story.

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