Page 23 of Where You're Planted

She shrugged and let her hands fall with a slap to her thighs. “Well, they’re here.”

“This is a delicate ecosystem. It’s a refuge for birds. You know what happens to birds when cats are introduced to an environment?”

“Wedidn’t introduce them. They were already here.” Tansy turned on her heel and walked back around to the door, and nowhefollowedher.

“Never mind that you won’t be feeding only the cats,” he said, ignoring her clarification. “Good luck dealing with the raccoons, opossums, rats, ants—”

“Was there a reason for this visit, or did you just need to get in another lecture for the day?”

Jack adjusted his hat. He was stuck on the cat food now and needed to impress upon her the imperative of not feeding animals here. He wasn’t ready to switch gears to his actualreason for seeking her out. But the sooner he spit it out, the sooner he could get on with his day. “We’re throwing a festival in a month, and Greta thought—”

“A festival? Like, with games and activities?”

“Yeah, I don’t really know yet. Still working out the details.”

“We want to be included.”

Jack laughed. Of course she hadn’t given him an opening to extend the invitation himself.

“What?” she said, defensive. “We may be here only temporarily, but if there’s going to be a festival, we should have a place in it.”

“Do you everaskfor anything or just make demands?”

Tansy’s cheeks burned pink. She fiddled withanothertie, this one on today’s precariously wrapped skirt. A beaded, tassle-y thing dangled from it, down the front of her left hip, snagging his attention like a shiny fishing lure, which annoyed him for its simple effectiveness and for how it undermined his objective. He wasn’t supposed to be looking at her hips in this stretchy purple skirt, nor wondering just how little he’d have to tug to send it fluttering to the ground. He didn’t evenlikethis womanorher obnoxiously colorful clothes, but hell if he was no better than some dumb trout chasing a flash in the water anytime she was around.

“Sorry,” she said. “Sometimes I get a little…”

“Aggressive?” he supplied, sounding even grouchier than he meant to.

She crossed her arms. “Passionate. The truth is, we need the boost a festival could give us. So…” She cleared her throat and schooled her face into a softer expression. When she wasn’t slanting her eyes angrily at him, they were big and golden brown and caught the afternoon light with a richnessthat reminded him of sun tea. “I’m asking if we can please participate.”

“Fine.”

“Yes?” Her face lighting up in sheer relief stunned him stupid for a few seconds.

As much as her default opposition got under his skin, this—pleasing her—sent a sensation like warm honey dripping all down his insides, soothing some of the adrenaline he hadn’t been able to shake since Amy’s news.

Which meant he had to leave immediately. “Fine,” he said again, turning to go.

“Wait. What’s the festival going to be called?”

He waved over his shoulder and strode briskly down the path. “Untitled as of yet.”

“There has to be a name,” she said. “And a theme.”

“We’ll work out the details later.”

“A real meeting!” she called after him. “I have lots of ideas!”

He was sure she did. And he was going to have to listen to every single one of them.

9

Tansy

In their third week in the Little Green Library, Pagan Pete found them. He showed up in his black trench coat, horns, and red face paint, and planted himself outside the library.

“Hey! Pete!” Tansy said when she arrived to unlock the building. “How’ve you been?”

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