Page 5 of Wolves & Watercolors
Hazel works for Heath, or so I thought. But something about the way he dips his head to her feels off, like she’s the one who is in charge. Surely not. And Slate is his assistant, or that’s what Hazel told me when she first visited.
Heath looks at me expectantly.
Nodding, I fumble with my keys to unlock the trunk. “Sure! Lead the way.”
Hazel wiggles her fingers in a little wave. “I’ll see you in a bit. We’ll have dinner together.”
“Great, thanks. Here, I’ll just get my stuff.”
Heath lifts my battered suitcase from the trunk and marches off through the trees. It takes two of my steps for each one of his, and I’m half-jogging to keep up.
The forest glows green, new growth springing up all around me. The gradient of purples and blues from lupine flowers just budding takes my breath away and makes my fingers twitch for my brushes and paint.
Our grandparent’s cabin sits nestled among the trees, so picturesque it makes my heart ache that I haven’t been here before. We should have spent summers here growing up. Something about it feels so right, and I no longer have to wonder why Hazel decided to stay. It feels more like home than anywhere we rented throughout our childhoods.
Heath pushes the door open and we step into a cheery yellow kitchen, anchored by a well-loved vintage table with mismatched chairs.
“The guest room is right through here,” he says, opening a door to my right. “There’s a bathroom here,” he says, moving into a masculine but comfortable living room, all brown leather and warm plaids. A vintage cast-iron stove sits on a sizable slab of rock in the corner. I can imagine how cozy this space is when a fire crackles in the stove.
“I really appreciate this. I didn’t want to cause any issues, but I felt like I needed to see Hazel,” I ramble, shaking out my hands nervously.
Health sets my bag on the table and places his huge hands over my shoulders. The warmth and weight relaxes me. “I’m glad you came to visit. We should have arranged this months ago. It’s not a problem.”
“Or years ago,” I say with a wry smile. “It’s been too long. But I’m here now and we can make up for lost time. But I really don’t want to be in Hazel’s way. I get the feeling she’s pretty busy.”
“Depends on the day, but I’m sure she’ll make time for you. Just be patient while she works out the logistics.”
“Aren’t you her boss?”
Heath pauses, a thoughtful look on his face as he offers me a bottle of water from his fridge. As I take a few sips, he sighs. “Not anymore. I’m retired. Slate and Hazel have taken over all of my duties.”
“Seriously?”
“Slate was my right–hand-man and Hazel has a knack for the work, so it made sense to let them take over. And now I’ve got time for some traveling and hobbies. It’s been good.”
“No wonder she’s so busy,” I mutter, not meaning to be unkind. It merely seems like a lot of work for her to handle, even with her partner’s help. Heath was the team leader for as long as I can remember.
“I should go check on everything, but it’ll be dinner soon. Why don’t you relax for a while and either Hazel or I will come grab you for dinner?”
“Sure. I can entertain myself.” Turning away, I scan the living space again, noting the lumpy pillows on the window seat, a tall bookcase in the corner, and worn-down hardwood floors. The space begs for me to cuddle up and rest, but my chest buzzes with the need to explore and get back outside. Patience.
“See you soon.” Heath pats my arm and strides past me and out of the cabin.
The door clicks shut, leaving me in absolute silence. Rolling my shoulders, I grab my bag and head into the secondary bedroom.
Heirloom quilts cover the matching set of twin beds. A few paintings are hung over the knotty pine walls. Stepping closer, I greedily examine them. They’re not mass produced prints, but probably painted by someone local. That makes me smile.
After shedding my sweatshirt, I lay back on the bed and exhale slowly. I can’t wipe the smile off my face. Seeing my sister again filled a need I didn’t know I had, and some uneasy, anxious part of me is soothed for the first time in years. This trip is exactly what I needed.
Cedar
Hazel slumps into the chair across from me, the shadows under her eyes darker today. I’ve been supplying her with red raspberry leaves for tea, but she’s clearly not sleeping well. Maybe some chamomile and more leafy greens would help. As soon as it was warm enough, I transplanted my spinach and kale seedlings, and the spinach is almost ready for harvest. I’ll have to talk with Sable and Crickett.
“Cedar?” Slate asks, and I feel as if my mind is transported from my garden back to this meeting room in a rush of noise, everyone’s voices flooding back in. From his downturned mouth, my Alpha knows I wasn’t listening.
“Sorry,” I mumble.
Hawthorne leans over, elbow on the table. “I know you don’t enjoy handling your father’s duties, but it’s only another day or two.” My father is the pack’s Delta, or Trainer, and fourth in command. Hawthorne is third in command, so even though I’m acting-Delta while my parents are visiting my twin, Onyx, and his mate, Ember, in their new pack, I still answer to him.
