Page 86 of Fetch Me A Mate
The Hearth & Hollow Inn officially reopened on a crisp November evening, exactly one week after Diana said yes to his proposal. Rowan stood in the lobby, watching the final preparations with the satisfaction of a man whose work was finally, completely done.
Diana moved through the space with quiet efficiency, adjusting lanterns and checking that every surface gleamed. The ring on her finger caught the light as she worked, a constant reminder that she'd chosen forever with him.
"Nervous?" Miriam asked, appearing beside him with a silver tray.
"Should I be?"
"Only if you're not ready to share her with the rest of Hollow Oak." Miriam's smile was fond. "Tonight she becomes the official heart of this community. That's a big responsibility."
"She can handle it."
"I know she can. Question is whether you can handle being the innkeeper's husband."
Rowan watched Diana straighten a picture frame with the same care she brought to everything important. "I'll learn."
"Good answer."
The first guests arrived at six. Tom with his camera, documenting the historic reopening for the Hollow Oak Gazette. Edgar and Rufus Tansley brought bottles of multiple potions and drinks. Freya and Kieran appeared with armloads of flowering branches that smelled of spring despite the November cold.
"Where do you want these?" Kieran asked, hefting a particularly large arrangement.
"Wherever Freya thinks they'll do the most good," Diana replied. "She understands the inn's energy better than I do."
Freya began placing the branches around the room with careful deliberation. Where her hands touched, the flowers seemed to glow with their own inner light.
"Magic?" Rowan asked quietly.
"Just a little blessing. For prosperity, protection, happiness." Freya's green eyes sparkled. "The kind of magic that makes a house feel like home."
More guests arrived in steady streams. Luka and Leenah from the woodworking shop. Cora and Callum, the ranger carrying a bottle of champagne that looked older than the inn itself. Maeve swept in wearing a rare smile, followed by half the Silver Fang's regular customers.
"Hell of a turnout," Maeve observed, surveying the crowded lobby.
"Hell of an innkeeper," Rowan replied.
"That she is. You picked well, wolf."
"She picked me."
"Even better."
By seven, the lobby buzzed with conversation and laughter. Twyla had commandeered the parlor, setting up a punch bowl that drew people like moths to flame. Her eyes were suspiciously bright as she ladled drinks into cups.
"Are you crying?" Diana asked, accepting a cup of punch.
"I'm emotional," Twyla corrected. "There's a difference."
"About what?"
"About watching someone find exactly where they belong. About seeing love win over fear. About knowing this place will be taken care of for another generation." Twyla wiped her eyes with a lace handkerchief. "Plus, I'm getting old and sentimental."
"You're not old."
"Old enough to remember when this inn was just an idea. When Miriam and Henry first talked about creating something lasting. And to know that it’s been five years since we had our last big ordeal and everything that’s happened, well this just seems fitting and even more sure that this is where you both belong." Twyla pressed the ladle into Diana's hands. "Now it's your turn to take on the heart of this place."
At eight, Miriam called for attention. The crowd quieted, faces turning toward where she stood by the reception desk.
"Friends," she began, her voice carrying easily through the room. "Tonight we celebrate more than the reopening of an inn. We celebrate the continuation of a promise."
