Page 10 of Wolves & Watercolors
Picnic tables surround the diner, stretching into the forest. Hazel heads to a table on the south end and plops her plate down before sliding onto the bench with a soft grunt. Suppressing my smile, I take the seat beside her. Slate is right behind us and claims the spot on her other side.
“This all smells amazing,” I mutter, drooling over the parsley-speckled garlic bread oozing with butter. I’m so enthralled with my food that I hardly notice as others join us.
“Hey there,” a young woman says. She sits across from Hazel, wearing a vivid emerald sweater and a dainty daisy headband threaded into her reddish-gold hair.
“Hi,” I say automatically.
“I’m Marigold. I’m sure Hazel has mentioned me, but I’m her best friend,” she says with a confident wink. Positive energy radiates off of her, and I instantly like her.
“Oh, good to know she’s got you and it’s not a total testosterone fest over here,” I say, tipping my head toward Slate.
Marigold lets out a giggle. “I’m so excited to finally meet you.” She glances around the table. “Normally, my boyfriend, Jasper, would be here too. He’s Slate’s brother, but he’s visiting their sister.”
Nodding, I pick up my fork and pop a spiral of pasta into my mouth to have something to do.
Another person walks toward us, and I recognize the boy from earlier. Slate’s cousin? Cedar? He walks with his head down, eyes on the ground. As he settles onto the bench beside Marigold, I clear my throat.
“Hey, nice to see you again.”
“Again?” Marigold asks, looking between us with a smirk on her pink lips.
Cedar is unbothered. “Yeah, I walked past the cabin and she was outside.”
“I was sitting on the patio drawing. It’s gorgeous outside, I couldn’t stay indoors,” I explain, feeling a blush creeping up my neck even though I did nothing wrong.
“Oh, that’s right, you’re an artist!” Marigold chimes. “What’s your medium?”
“Watercolor, but I like to switch it up sometimes. Pencils, pastels, gouache, but watercolor is my favorite.”
“She paints landscapes,” Hazel says.
“Oh! Are you going to paint while you’re here?” Marigold asks.
“That’s the plan,” I say, reaching for the phone in my pocket for the question that always comes next.
“I’d love to see some of your work,” Marigold says. With a shy smile, I hand over my phone with the photos app queued up.
Marigold swipes through, her face growing more animated. “These are freaking gorgeous!”
“Thanks.”
“Slate, I think she’s better than you are!”
“I don’t doubt it,” he rumbles, his eyes not leaving my sister.
“It’s not the same thing,” I mutter. “You know, I’d love any advice on finding good views for painting. Anything scenic or interesting is great.”
“I’d love that, but I’m usually busy during the day. I’m the local teacher and those kids keep me busy.” She shrugs and gives me an apologetic half-smile.
“I can take you,” Cedar interjects. Those gray-blue eyes rise to mine. “I manage our garden, so my schedule is flexible.”
“If you don’t mind,” I say, my whole body tensing. “But I’m sure you’re busy. I’ll be fine on my own, or you can just point me in the right direction.”
“I’m ahead of schedule because of how warm it is. The spring planting is almost done, so I’ve got plenty of free time.” He doesn’t pressure me, just states the facts in that calm way of his.
“You definitely shouldn’t go alone. I’d take you myself, but now’s not a great time for hiking for me,” Hazel says with a light laugh.
Heat creeps up my neck as I hold Cedar’s gaze until he glances down. “If you are going to help me with finding locations to paint, I can help you in the garden. It’s only fair, and I really like gardening.”
