Page 16 of The Cobbler and His Elves

“We wanted to,” Elijah said simply, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve.

As we ate, conversation flowed easily. It felt... right, somehow. As if this was how mornings were always meant to be.

“Oh,” Jack said suddenly, gesturing towards my workbench. “Those shoes—they’re coming along nicely.” A knowing grin spread across his face as he winked at me. "I recognized the leather.”

I glanced at the half-finished pumps, guilt twisting in my gut. “Mrs. Thackeray’s order. I’ve been so distracted with everything... I’ll have to rush to finish them.”

Elijah squeezed my hand. “We’ll help. Between the three of us, we’ll have them done in no time.”

A knock at the door interrupted our cozy breakfast. Jack went to answer it, his easy smile faltering as he saw who stood on the other side.

Sheriff Dawson pushed his way into the shop, his face grim. Two deputies —Deputy Smith and Deputy Rogers—flanked him, hands resting on their holsters.

“Milo Hart,” Dawson said, his voice echoing in the sudden silence. “I have a warrant for your arrest.”

The room spun around me. “Arrest? But... why?”

Dawson’s mustache twitched. “We have a witness who saw someone matching your description near the tannery on the night of the theft. You’re coming with us.”

As the deputies moved towards me, Jack and Elijah stepped protectively in front of me.

“This is ridiculous,” Jack snarled. “Milo had nothing to do with the theft.”

Elijah’s voice was calmer, but no less intense. “Sheriff, surely you can’t believe?—“

“Step aside, boys,” Dawson growled. “Unless you want to join him down at the station.”

I placed a hand on each of their shoulders, gently pushing them aside. “It’s okay,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “I’ll go.”

As Deputy Smith slapped the cold cuffs on my wrists, Jack’s nostrils flared.

“Are cuffs really necessary? He’s been a respected member of this town since he was in fucking diapers.”

“Standard procedure,” Smith muttered.

“To hell with procedure.” Elijah’s usual easy manner vanished. “Where’s he gonna run off to?”

Sheriff Dawson raised his hand. “Fine. No cuffs.”

The deputy removed the restraint, leaving behind a cold ring where the metal had pressed against my skin. I caught Jack and Elijah’s eyes. The muscles in Jack’s jaw twitched. Elijah’s fingers curled into fists at his sides. Something dark and protective flashed across both their faces, eliciting a storm of emotions inside me.

“Don’t worry,” I said, trying to sound braver than I felt. “We’ll get this sorted out soon. Just... just finish those shoes for Mrs. Thackeray, will you?”

As the sheriff led me out of my shop—my home—I clung to that one normal thought. Shoes to mend. Customers to please. It was easier than facing the reality of the cramped cell waiting at Millcrest Courthouse & Jail.

The last thing I saw before the police car door closed was Jack and Elijah, standing in the doorway of Hart’s Shoe Repair.

Whatever happened next, I knew one thing for certain.

I wasn’t alone anymore.

5

The iron bars of the cell door clanged shut, the sound echoing through the Millcrest Courthouse & Jail. I sank onto the narrow cot, the thin mattress offering little comfort against the metal frame. The events of the past few days whirled through my mind like leaves caught in an autumn storm.

How had I ended up here? Just days ago, my biggest worry had been scraping together enough money to keep my shop open. Now, I sat accused of theft, separated from the two men who had somehow become the center of my world.

I closed my eyes, remembering the warmth of Jack and Elijah’s bodies pressed against mine, their scents mingling with my own. The ghost of their touches lingered on my skin, a bittersweet reminder of what I stood to lose.