Page 35 of Shelter for Shay
Moose sat on the back porch steps, a cold bottle of beer sweating in his hand, boots planted on the gravel path like he wasn’t ready to move just yet. He wanted to feel this moment a little while longer. The guys had gathered after dinner—one last night before they deployed at zero six hundred.
Thor sat next to him, elbows on his knees, nursing his own bottle. Kawan tossed corn chips into his mouth straight from the bag, lounging in a camp chair like he owned the place. Lief sat on the porch steps, staring at… nothing. Sloan was perched on the porch rail, tapping something into his phone, and Jupiter sat cross-legged on the grass near the chickens, apparently mid-conversation with the bossiest hen.
“I’m telling you,” Jupiter called out. “She judges me. That little gray one? The ringleader. Mafia eyes.”
“She’s a chicken,” Sloan said flatly. “She’s not building a racketeering empire.”
“You don’t know that.” Jupiter glared.
Thor grinned. “He might have a point. That coop’s got a vibe.”
Moose shook his head. “Don’t encourage him.”
“This place, it’s given you so much peace,” Thor said after a minute, voice quieter now. “You’ve built something solid here. Even if your livestock are slightly homicidal.”
Moose glanced around. The warm wood siding of the house. The citronella candle flickering on the table. The low rustle of crickets. “Yeah. It’s quiet. Predictable.”
“Which is why it freaks you out that Shay cracked through it.”
Moose didn’t answer right away. He took a pull from the bottle and stared out toward the horizon where the last of the light disappeared behind the trees.
“I’m not as freaked out as you think I am,” he said. “She makes me feel… steady. Not tamed. Not different—more myself. Like there’s space to be something other than what the Navy made me.”
“Are you falling in love with her?” Thor asked, no judgment in his tone.
Moose rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know. I’ve never been in love. Don’t know what that feels like.” He waved his finger. “Only know what it looks like in you and Danni. But yeah… I think I could. I think I’m heading that way.”
“And she?” Thor asked.
“We talk every night. I know her voice better than I know my own at this point. We talk about dumb things. Serious things. Grief. Chickens. I haven’t let someone in like that in… ever… outside of you assholes.”
Kawan let out a mock sigh from the camp chair. “Aw, our Moose is in his feelings.”
“Let him be,” Thor said. “He’s allowed.”
They all fell quiet for a few moments, each lost in their own thoughts. Jupiter was humming to the chickens. Sloan was still texting. Somewhere in the dark, a frog chirped.
Eventually, the others filtered inside to grab gear or make their final calls to their mamas and other family. Thor squeezed Moose’s shoulder before he followed.
Alone on the steps, Moose’s phone buzzed. He pulled it from his pocket.
Shay’s name and picture flashed across the screen.
“Hey you,” he said. “You’re early tonight.”
“Sorry. Are the guys still there?”
“They're collecting their crap and getting ready to head out.” Moose closed his eyes for a moment, letting the sound of her settle something in his chest. “I was just thinking about how I’ve got a crazy rooster named Sergeant Peck who respects no onebut me… and he still doesn’t scare me half as much as taking this call with my team in the background, ready to tease the crap out of me.”
“Is this your version of vulnerability?”
“Yeah. Let me have my weird metaphors.”
They both laughed, and then the silence stretched between them—not awkward, just full.
“I care about you,” Moose said quietly. “A lot. More than makes sense. And I’m not good at this. I’ve never really done this. But it feels good, even if it’s a little frightening.” Being honest with her was easy.
“It scares me, too,” she said softly. “These past few days have been strange.”
