Page 12 of Wolves & Watercolors
His hand falls away from mine once we are over the offending rock, though I still cling to his upper arm. He’s going to have to pry me off at this rate.
“I can tell she’s excited you’re here. I think she missed you.”
My eyebrows furrow as the sentiment sinks in. “I missed her too. I should have visited a year ago.”
Cedar’s pace slows as Heath’s cabin appears between the dark columns of tree trunks. “It seems to me that right now is the right time.”
I’d like to question him, but there’s something about his tone that feels sage, like he is an oracle passing down wisdom to mere mortals.
“Yeah, I suppose so. Well, good night!” I say, reluctantly releasing him before he tries to shake me off. Stepping onto the porch, I glance over my shoulder to see his striking profile illuminated by the cabin’s golden glow. My assessment of him as an oracle feels fitting because in this moment he could pass as a Greek god.
“Good night,” he echoes, shoving his hands in his pockets as he ambles into the darkness. I watch him until he disappears, and then shut the door and click the lock out of habit.
“Hey, Rory. You can leave that unlocked.” Heath greets me from the leather sofa. He cradles a faded paperback with curling edges in his hands. “Have a good evening hanging out with Hazel and everyone?”
“Yeah, I can see why she likes it here so much.”
He nods his head absently. “Yeah, it’s not too shabby.”
“I’m exhausted. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Without looking up, he says, “I’ll be out tomorrow all day, so don’t worry about me. You can enjoy the cabin and the meadow, but don’t go hiking without someone with you. It’s too easy to get lost. We don’t have marked trails.”
“No problem.” I don’t have any plans for tomorrow aside from breaking out my sketchbook, so it’s easy to agree.
A faint buzz vibrates under my skin as I wash up and curl up under the vintage quilt in the guest room. The day feels like it was endless, with my drive, settling into this cabin, and making new friends over dinner. They were all so nice, it makes me smile into my pillow. Not too shabby, indeed.
IV . Seedlings &
Sandwiches
Cedar
Skipping my morning run has my skin crawling, but it would require a hike to get a safe distance away from our visitor’s eyes, and I don’t want to lose my entire morning. I should have gone. Whenever I go a few days without shifting, it feels like fur and claws might burst out of me without my permission. I’m on edge.
So I sink my hands into the dirt and close my eyes, letting the rich soil soothe my nerves. It’s as familiar to me as my own tattoos. I’ve churned this earth, added compost and mulch, poured in vitamins. No one else understands the pride I take in this soil, but they all enjoy the harvest. That’s enough for me.
My breath slows, my muscles relaxing as I let the handful of dirt fall from my fingers. Everything is fine.
A whiff of something unusual washes over me. It’s slightly sweet, with a hint of resin and chalk, mingled with something smokey and earthy. My eyes pop open, my head swinging around until I spot her.
Hazel’s sister wanders along the edge of my garden, trailing her hand through a patch of overgrown mint. The rest of my herbs grow in the center of my garden where I can keep an eye on them, but mint is such an upstart, I banished it to the border where metal garden bins can contain it.
Morning light draws a luminous line down her nose and over the cupid’s bow of her lips. Her silhouette is clear through the light cotton dress fluttering around her knees. It’s one of those bohemian styles with rough edges. Brown eyes, lightened to honey in the morning’s glow, rise to meet mine.
My mind goes blank. What is she doing here? What do I say to her?
It takes her a few minutes to wind through the gravel pathways and reach me. Brushing the dirt from my hands, I gather up my tools and straighten.
“Hey,” she says, quieter than yesterday. Shy, almost.
“Aurora.”
“Is it okay that I’m here?”
“Yeah, you’re welcome to explore,” I say thickly. Of the entire compound, she chose my garden. Hazel and Marigold warned me, but I didn’t think…
“This is amazing,” she says, turning to survey the expansive space, taking in the tidy rows of wooden raised beds teeming with various greenery. “When they said garden, I didn’t think they meant an entire mini farm.” Her charming laugh caresses me and I sway forward.
