Page 10 of Must Love Moss and Moonshine
The squirrel clicked questioningly at me.
I chuckled.“Granted, it’s the only thing I remember eating, but all the same,” I said and took another delicious bite, my body filling with warmth and healing.Lifting a walnut from the table, I handed it to the squirrel.“Marvelle, is it?”
He clicked at me.
I lifted my mug of chestnut ale.“To your health, little friend,” I said, hoisting my drink in cheer then sipped.A feeling of contentment and home washed over me, for what felt like the first time in a very, very long time.
CHAPTER6
KELLAN
Istepped into the forest, breathing in deeply.My heart pounded in my chest.Had she noticed my voice seemed rusted, that I was unused to people?Save for delivering bundles of moonshine plant to the herbalist in Moonshine Hollow, my interactions with others were limited to the creatures in my forest.I was a dryad.That was my life.
Yet, lately, I had found the solitude weighing on me.I had even considered making a trip to the village for supplies just to see another person.The fact that this Sylvan woman had somehow made her way to my doorstep dumbfounded me.Perhaps she had slipped past the magical enchantments that protected the forest because of her heritage.The Sylvans were nearest to my own kind in their love of nature.What was she doing so far from Greenspire, her homeland?
Shaking myself from my thoughts, I refocused on my task.I needed to collect more nightwing mushroom to brew a healing potion.And I would need to look through my library.Had the elders left anything on healing a broken mind?Unlikely.My duty was to tend to bears with broken bones, eliminate bark mites and root rot, watch over the fragile wildlife, and maintain the balance of the forest.
And yet, there was nothing I wanted more than to look after her.In fact, she hadn’t left my thoughts since the moment I laid eyes on her.More than anything, I felt an overwhelming urge to protect her.And hold her, and nuzzle my nose into her neck, smell her hair…
No.
I would not think of it.
She was a woman who needed my care.That was all.
Making my way through the forest, I approached the wide star ash tree where the nightwing mushrooms grew.The late-afternoon light filtered through the canopy, casting dappled shadows that danced across the forest floor.The rich scent of decay and renewal rose from the earth, and beneath my feet, a carpet of fallen leaves whispered with each step.The floppy fungus appeared like the wings of a bat against the silvery bark, their edges tinged with an ethereal blue glow.I began selecting the best specimens, their flesh cool and velvet-soft against my fingers.
My mind wandered as I worked.It had been nearly a decade since I’d had feelings for the daughter of a farmer who lived on the edge of the forest.Isla, with her quick laugh and practical mind, had caught my attention during her herb-gathering trips.Our romance had been sweet but brief, more a tender friendship that bloomed and faded like spring wildflowers.When her family sold the farm and moved, we had parted with fond memories and no regrets.And once, long ago, another dryad woman had been my lover.Our relationship had been passionate but not serious, both of us knowing our paths would eventually diverge.Still, the thought of a true companion had lingered in my quieter moments—someone to share both the work and wonder of the forest.
I exhaled heavily.
What troubles you, Guardian?the tree whispered to me.
“There is a Sylvan woman in my cabin.She was injured and her memories are missing.”
Then you must help her.That should be no trouble for you.It is what you do best.
“Yes, you are right.”
So, why are you troubled?
“Because… I am not troubled.”
The leaves on the tree quaked, a gesture like laughter in such living things.Do not fear your nature, Guardian.Deep below the earth, our roots touch one another, holding one another in gentle embraces.
“And I am not lonely,” I said, rising, my basket full.
Annoyed, I began to stalk off.
Behind me, however, the tree quaked once more then said,I never said you were.
* * *
When I returnedto the cabin, I entered quietly, not wanting to disturb her.Marvelle lifted his head from the nest he’d made in an empty clay herb pot on my potting shelf.She was asleep once more.Setting the basket full of mushrooms down, I leaned against a supporting pole and paused, watching her.She lay in my bed, her breath slow and even, her raven-black hair spilling over my pillow.I’d never imagined having anyone in my cottage, let alone a beautiful woman.
The way her face softened in sleep made something catch in my chest.She looked so serene.And, if I let myself admit it, beautiful in a way that felt both tender and dangerous.Dangerous to my solitude.Dangerous to my way of life.There was something intoxicating in knowing she was right here, within reach, her warmth and comfort only inches away.
I could picture myself slipping into the bed beside her, feeling the curve of her against me, her skin warm beneath my touch.I imagined how she might stir and turn to me, a drowsy smile on her face.I envisioned pressing my lips against hers, tasting elderberries, feeling her melt into me.I wanted to trace my fingers over her cheek, down her neck, feel her shiver under my hand.The thought alone made me ache, but it was more than just desire.It was the quiet longing to belong to someone and to have them belong here, with me.
