Page 101 of Wildflower and Whiskey
Elyna
Spring slowly crept into Val-Du-Lys until one morning the frost was gone. The orchard shimmered with new green, the air sweet with thawed earth and apple blossoms. I was walking the back rows with Braden running in front of me, his little boots bumping against my leg, when I spotted Phoenix near the north fence line. He had told me to meet him here after I fed Braden breakfast. He was crouched beside a newly planted tree, soil on his forearms, sleeves pushed up. The sight did something warm to my chest.
“Hey, farmer,” I called.
He glanced over his shoulder, that half-grin already tugging. “Technically brewer. But farmer adjacent.”
“Uh-huh.” Braden squealed at the sight of him and ran up to his leg. “Your son disagrees.”
Phoenix rose, brushed his palms on his jeans, and met us halfway down the row. He kissed Braden’s forehead first, then me, quick and sure. “You two have perfect timing,” he said oddly.
“We do?” I asked, my tone curious as to why he wanted us out here so early.
Phoenix chuckled, then motioned toward the far end of the orchard. “Come on. I want to show you something.” Just by the sound of his voice, I knew he had something up his sleeve. Braden and I followed him down the path, which wound between rows of budding trees until it opened onto a small clearing overlooking the valley. The grass was impossibly green, dotted with early wildflowers. A picnic blanket lay in the center, weighed down with a basket, two glasses, and the familiar curve of a bottle from the brewery, one of the spring batches he’d been testing.
I blinked. “What is this?”
He shrugged, feigning innocence. “You’ll see.”
He poured sparkling cider into the glasses, no wine today, just the crisp bite of something we’d made together. We sat. Braden ran around the blanket in circles, while I leaned back on my hands, breathing in the scent of wet soil and cedar.
“It’s hard to believe at one point in my life I wanted to run away from Val-Du-Lys,”
I said, staring at all the beauty around me.
“Same with me. This place is in my blood,” Phoenix added.
“It’s home,” we both said, almost at the exact same time.
“It’s our life, it’s where we love, where we work,” I said, feeling so nostalgic.
He smiled. “And somewhere in between, I fell in love with you.”
The words landed softly, but the look in his eyes carried weight. He reached for the basket and pulled something from beneath the napkin. My heart stuttered. It was a small wooden box, simple, handmade, the grain dark with polish.
My breath caught.
“Phoenix…”
He flipped it open. Inside lay a ring with a white-gold band and a single oval diamond, framed by tiny apple-blossomengravings. Nothing flashy, but it was perfect. He drew a slow breath. “You once told me you wanted roots. That you were tired of running. I didn’t know then you were going to plant them here, right in my chest. I don’t ever want to know another morning that doesn’t start with you and Braden.”
The world narrowed to his voice, the faint chirp of birds, Braden’s happy babble beside us.
“I already asked Dad if he’d help with the adoption paperwork,” Phoenix continued, a faint smile tugging his mouth. “He said yes. So now there’s just one more thing I need to ask.”
He shifted onto one knee, his boots dug into the grass, and sunlight caught in his hair. “Elyna, will you marry me and make me the happiest man alive?”
For a heartbeat I couldn’t breathe. Everything that happened in the last year filtered through my mind. The ups and downs. The love and hurt. All of it wove together into a beautiful story. Our story.
“Yes,” I whispered, and then louder, laughing through tears. “Yes, Phoenix. A thousand times yes.”
Braden clapped his hands like he understood.
Phoenix slipped the ring onto my finger; it fit like it had been waiting for me all along. He leaned in and kissed me, slow and certain. It was a promise sealed in sunlight and apple blossoms. A promise sealed in love. We stayed like that for a long while with Braden between us, Phoenix’s arm around my waist, the orchard coming back to life.
“So,” he said finally, brushing a petal from my hair, “Luc and Izzy’s wedding is in July. I figured maybe we don’t steal their thunder.”
I laughed. “You figured right.”
