Enchanted encounter at t.., p.1
Enchanted Encounter at the Matchmaker's Inn, page 1
ENCHANTED ENCOUNTER
AT THE MATCHMAKER’S INN
PINEVALE VALLEY
LEAH MILES
Enchanted Encounter at the Matchmaker’s Inn
Copyright © 2024 Leah Miles
All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the author, except for brief quotations used in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locals is entirely coincidental.
To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.
Edited by: Emily Harmston
CONTENTS
About Enchanted Encounter
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Epilogue
About Pinevale Valley
Other books by Leah Miles
About Leah Miles
Copyright © 2024 Leah Miles -Enchanted Encounter at the Matchmaker’s Inn
All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the author, except for brief quotations used in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locals is entirely coincidental.
To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.
Edited by: Emily Harmston
ABOUT ENCHANTED ENCOUNTER
Trish Fairfax arrives in North Carolina on a mission to return an heirloom stolen by her late father to its rightful owners. Little does she know, the inn she checks into has a reputation for playing cupid, and when she encounters Brent Sands, an intriguing stranger, an instant connection sparks between them.
As their paths intertwine, suspicions arise. Brent mistakes her for a thief and becomes an unexpected complication in her quest to do the right thing. Trapped in a web of desire and secrets, Trish and Brent must navigate the intricate dance of love, trust, and the unveiling of their concealed magical strengths.
Will they overcome the misunderstandings and recognize the true enchantment that binds them? Or will the shadows of the past pull them apart? The answer lies in the pages of this enchanting paranormal romance novel.
The First Coast Romance Writers are happy to present the Shared World Series of Pinevale Valley. This is a multi-genre small-town romance series, and each book will be available for at least one year from publication. Don’t miss your chance to purchase this romance novel while it’s available.
Proceeds benefit First Coast Romance Writers, an independent non-profit organization that helps writers hone their craft and expand their knowledge of the publishing industry.
CHAPTER ONE
The scent of salt and jasmine mingled in the air as Trish Fairfax trudged to her mother’s porch. Colorful petunias lined the path. Once meticulously tended by her father, they now grew with wild abandon. It had been a year since a procession of black-clad mourners shuffled through this same entryway, a year since the echo of her father’s laughter faded to a memory.
She drew in a steadying breath and pushed the door open. “Mom?”
“Trish!” Her mother clapped her hands in delight. “You’re right on time.” Lonice Fairfax, or Lolly to her friends, waded out of a sea of boxes and bubble wrap to hug her daughter.
She was bubbling with joy, and Trish should be happy for her. “Mom, you look great. Is that a new dress?”
“Too pink, right?”
“Not for you.” Trish looped an arm around her tiny mother’s shoulders. “Are you going to dinner with Havier tonight?”
Lolly pursed her lips. “Life is for living, darling. Your father would’ve wanted us to find happiness again.”
She knew that, but reality was a stubborn knot in her chest refusing to loosen. “I’m glad you’re happy.”
“Thank you, honey. Speaking of moving on, there’s something we need to finish.” She led her into the dining room, where papers had been spread across the table. “Since I’m moving to Havier’s yacht after the wedding, I’m deeding the house and property to you.”
“Maybe you shouldn't do that.”
“Yes. He’s going to marry me and take care of me.” She ticked off her fingers as she spoke. “No more working in the florist shop, no more struggling to pay the bills, no more being alone all the time. You love Myrtle Beach, and this house is yours if you want it, but it’s fine if you don’t. Sell it and use the money.” She slid an official-looking paper toward Trish and handed her a pen. “Here’s the deed.”
“Mom, I—”
“Shush, no arguments. Your father wanted you to have it.”
The weight of the pen was somehow monumental in her fingers. “Thank you.”
Her mom had returned to packing another box. Trish picked up a framed photo of the three of them left on the table. Her parents had met in the city, and as they say, opposites attract. Only five foot two, her mother had dark hair and deep brown eyes. Her dad’s hair had been pale blond and his eyes a bright blue. Mom always accused Trish of being like him. And she was—not only in appearance but in ways her mom had never understood.
“Before I go, I need to give you something.” Her mother’s tone of voice sent prickles down Trish’s spine.
“You gave me your house. I don’t need anything else.”
“This gift is from your father.” Her mother gingerly held out an oblong wooden box. “I put this away after he passed. It’s something he wanted you to have, but I didn’t want it to be another burden for you,” she confessed, not meeting Trish’s gaze.
“You said this was lost!”
“I’m sorry. Here it is now,” she said, thrusting it at her. “Do you want to go to dinner with us? I need to leave now to meet Havier.”
“No, Mom.” Trish collapsed on the couch with the box on her knees. She pressed a finger against the single carved letter F on the top. “Dad said this was the only thing left from his childhood.”
“I didn’t look inside. He left it for you, and I saved it. Don’t wait up for me. I’ll see you in the morning. Love you.” Her mom made air kisses and slipped out the door.
“Bye, love you too.” Trish nodded absently and settled the box on the coffee table. Her mom didn’t mean to be heartless. To her mind, keeping the box a secret protected Trish.
She twisted the latch, and her heart thumped faster. “I miss you, Dad,” she murmured, releasing a pent-up breath before she pushed the lid back on its hinges. A shimmering red cloth spilled over the sides. She'd seen what rested under it. Her father had shown her years ago.
She gently unwound the fabric, uncovering a thick quartz stone with gold striations as long and wide as her palm. The magic stone he’d said had powered the fountain in Pinevale Valley. It was beautiful, mesmerizing, and inexplicably familiar. The weight of it pulsed against her skin, mingling with her dormant energies, reawakening an affinity she had neglected since well before her father’s passing.
Shivering at the intense feelings, Trish placed the stone on the coffee table and noticed a business card and envelope inside the box.
The card had worn edges. The ink was faded but still legible.
Finders Keepers
Lost and Found Services
Reginald Fairfax and Daughter
call 555-555-5555
Her father’s dream, his passion project, never quite took off—at least not how he’d hoped. Trish traced the lettering, a lump forming in her throat. “Finder’s intuition,” he used to call it with a wink. But it was so much more. Part of their gift as Earth mages was a mystical bond with the elements, allowing them to sense the echoes of people and things they touched.
Next, she picked up a blue, letter-sized envelope. “Trish” was scrawled across the front in smeared dark ink. If she’d done as he asked and joined him last year after finishing her business degree instead of working at the animal rescue nonprofit, maybe he’d be alive instead of dead in a senseless accident.
A single sheet was tucked inside the envelope. Her heart sank when she read the first words. “I let my craving for the stone’s power and anger at my mistreatment cloud my judgment.” A confession? “Return it,” his words implored, “to the people it truly belongs to. Heal the rift I’ve caused.” With each word, the burden of his secret became her own. Two decades before, he’d taken and used the stone—a stolen shard of Pinevale Valley’s heart—to increase his finding ability.
An odd sense of responsibility settled on her shoulders, and a call to action resonated deep within her core. She whispered into the quiet room, “I’ll make this right.”
CHAPTER TWO
Brent Sands clenched his fists at hi
He hadn’t been in this room since he was a teenager. But it hadn’t changed. There were no chairs, only soundproof walls and a standing table in the center, big enough for five people to circle. A mage from each element: Fire, Wind, Earth, Water, plus the fifth, the chairperson, who could be any mage. Today, only four were present, including himself. At thirty-two, he was the youngest person in the room, as these witches had served on the council with his mother.
Waldo Mason, the head of both this and Pinevale’s regular town council, watched him with hope and something else on his face. Does he want me to fail or succeed? “We’re welcoming you back, Brent.”
He wished he hadn’t been so eager to answer this summons. Pinevale Valley had been on his mind and when they offered him a council position and implied he’d be in line for sheriff, he’d jumped at the chance to return home. Now he understood it came with a big catch. “So, you brought me here, but …”
“No buts,” Waldo said.
Brent shook his head. “There is, though. You,” he pointed at each of them, “invited me back, but to test my worthiness for this council, the council my mother ran for thirty years. You want me to find the person who stripped the fountain of its power and restore the magic.”
“Not totally—” Waldo shook his finger.
“You are charging me with locating the key or whatever device that was stolen almost twenty years ago. I assume you’ve been looking for it?” Of course, they had. They’d been searching ever since. Brent’s mother had been the council chair and led the charge for years, trying to recover her magical juice before she gave up and moved to Texas with his dad and sisters.
“We are elementals,” Waldo complained. “I’m an Earth mage, so I make things grow. Prescience and finding are not part of my abilities.”
Brent waited for the other two to make excuses.
The only woman, Bev Costa, shook her head. “I’m an air mage. I was on the council with your mother. Like her, my abilities are a fraction of what they were before.”
After the key disappeared, these witches and many others in the valley lost access to the tide of power. Fortunately for him, only his Wind magic was tied to the fountain, not his other abilities.
He tipped his chin at Chief McGill, who’d also been the fire chief fifteen years ago. “What about you, Dave?”
“Don’t look at me.” He made a sour face and seemed to find the ceiling fascinating. “My element is Fire, so it’s hidden from me unless the key is on fire.”
“Are all the Water mages gone?” Brent asked.
Bev shrugged. “A few dozen still live in the valley, but they’re basically powerless. They got their strength from the source beneath the fountain. Of course, the magic is still there but can’t be accessed.”
“What if you demolished the fountain?” Brent asked.
“No,” Waldo and Dave said in unison.
Waldo rested his elbows on the standing table. “If we take it down, the magic might shift into the Earth’s core, moving forever out of reach.”
“The fountain needs to be restored, for everyone's sake. Our laws should punish the culprit who took it,” Dave snapped.
So, not the regular human laws, but the harsher magical laws. “Strip them of their powers or even death,” Brent said.
Waldo thumped the table with both fists and snarled, “Bury the thief, bring back the key, and you get whatever you want.”
Trish Fairfax sniffed, closed her eyes, and breathed deeper, filling her lungs. The rich scent of pine in the air smelled like a flavor, something familiar and wildly addictive, like stumbling on a new favorite thing. After weeks of planning and worrying about coming to Pinevale Valley, she’d arrived and—
“Better hurry. It’s nearly six, and the band will begin soon.”
Her eyes snapped open to find a dark-haired woman holding a tiny girl a few feet away, standing between the two rows of parked cars.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” The woman’s voice had a strong southern accent.
Trish shrugged and jammed her hands in her jeans pockets. She’d been handling the stone a lot in the last two months, which had residual effects. Now, she had to be extremely careful of barehanded contact to avoid zoning out with information overload. She did not know how her dad had managed it for so long. “Long drive. I guess I’m asleep on my feet.”
“Are you here for Greensky Bluegrass?” The woman jostled the child, making her giggle. “Amy and I are fans.”
“Ah …” A band on Sunday night? Must be part of the Festival of Leaves. She glanced toward the sound of the waiting crowd but heard no music. “When do they begin?”
The first notes of a fast country song played in the distance.
“Oh, perfect timing!” The woman glanced over her shoulder, clearly ready to get moving. “Do you want to walk over with us?”
“Um … it may take me a few minutes. I need a sweater out of my bag. You go on ahead, and I’ll follow.”
“Okay. My name’s Minnie.”
“I’m Trish.”
Minnie came forward, hand extended in greeting.
Shoot. Her gloves were probably on the passenger seat. Trish reluctantly clasped Minnie's hand, closing her eyes briefly to tamp down the intrusion of the other woman’s emotions and thoughts.
Minnie’s friendliness and excitement were genuine. She was a huge fan of the band and the guy running the sound.
The little girl, Amy, surprised Trish when she held out her tiny hand, wiggling her fingers. Most of the time, Trish didn’t mind linking with kids, especially happy ones, so she extended a palm for the child to touch.
“Me,” the bright-eyed Amy said. Her jumbled mind revealed she was hungry, and her mommy had promised wonderful treats.
Trish relaxed, enjoying the child’s exuberance. “You’re a cutie.”
Minnie laughed. “She doesn’t say much yet. Her main words are ‘no’ and ‘me,’ but she’s excited. I gotta say, just glancing over here, I mistook you for my friend, Ruth. You two could be sisters.” She paused. “The resemblance is uncanny.”
Trish’s stomach rolled, and she shook her head. “Will she be here tonight?” She hadn’t considered that her father might’ve left relatives in this town.
“Not sure. She lives on an island somewhere with her boyfriend but visits pretty often. Is this your first time in Pinevale Valley?” Minnie asked.
“Uh …” Her father had brought her once when she was five, but she hadn’t gotten out of the truck. To keep from outright lying, she said, “I’m glad to be here.”
“You picked a good time to come. The Festival of Leaves is the best one of the entire fall.” She waved a hand toward the music and lights. “We have over twenty vendors, and Greensky will play twice this week. We’re fortunate to get them here.” Bobbing her head along with the music, she said, “I love this song. You’re welcome to join us if you’re not meeting anyone. The band is set up in front of the Perpetual Fountain. Follow the music.” Then, with a little wave, she took off at a jog, Amy’s dark eyes peeking over her shoulder at Trish.
“Thanks,” she called after them. The band sounds good. From the back of the rental, she retrieved a sweater from her duffel and located her gloves. The wooden box called to her, tempting her to peek inside and take the stone out again. But no. There could be cameras out here; she didn’t want anyone to see the stone.
She glanced around as she shut the door. The small lot appeared deserted. But, to be safe, she opened it again and moved her bag to the trunk. Then she locked the car with the fob before donning her sweater and gloves.
