Page 26 of Violet Thistlewaite Is Not a Villain Anymore
With Nathaniel’s warning in mind, Violet knelt to the ground, her magic at the ready.
“Hi there,” she said, and leaned down to peer beneath the bush.
A flash of pale fur caught her eye. Not another rock goblin, then. Violet grew bolder, leaning toward it. A rumbly growl rang from the space, followed by another barking little yelp.
“I think it’s…” She laughed, clapping one of her filthy hands over her mouth. “Nathaniel, it’s a dog!”
Sure enough, a small puppy cowered beneath the bush. She had pale yellow fur, speckled with mud and matted against her body, and dark brown eyes that regarded Violet suspiciously.
The rock goblin had disappeared.
“I won’t hurt you, little friend,” she said in a low, calming voice, reaching out a hand. The dog barked back and growled again, cowering away from Violet.
“Here,” said Nathaniel, squatting down next to her. He pulled a small, wrapped item from his pocket and handed it to her. Violet pulled back the paper and was suddenly overwhelmed by the mouthwatering scent of roasted ham, sage, and gooey cheese, all wrapped in flaky golden dough and kept warm by some enchantment on the wrapping paper.
“A family friend of ours makes them,” Nathaniel explained, tearing a corner from the pastry. His eyes were on the puppy and softer than she’d ever seen them. “Guy—not thebadGuy, he’s—”
“We’ve met.”
“Yes, well.” Nathaniel’s eyes went back to the pup. “Perhaps our new friend might be hungry.”
Nathaniel Marsh was evidently a dog person. Her heart thawed as he knelt next to Violet and held the piece of pastry out with an open palm. “Hello there,” he said in a low, coaxing voice that was kinder than she’d thought he was capable of. “Would you like a bite to eat?”
The puppy stopped growling when she smelled the food and crept forward. A thin scratch wove across the side of her nose, and there was a small notch missing from her ear.
“She looks young.” Nathaniel’s low voice, much closer to Violet’s ear than she’d anticipated, carried a slight rasp that sent an inexplicable wash of heat through her. Surprise, she reasoned. She hadn’t realized they were so close.
“Much too young to be away from her mother,” she agreed, smiling when the puppy swiped the food from his hand and dashed back to safety beneath the bush. She tore another piece from the pastry and handed it to her. “Another?”
It took three bites before the puppy would let Nathanielscratch behind her ears. After the fifth bite, they were nearly out of food, but the puppy barely protested when Nathaniel scooped her into his arms.
“Hello, sweetheart,” he said, scratching her neck. “Where’s your mama? Your siblings?”
Violet eyed the scratch on the pup’s nose, the mud caked into her fur. “I don’t think she has any.”
The puppy nuzzled into Nathaniel’s coat and sniffed at the daisy in his pocket.
“Ah,” he said, pulling her away from the flower. “I don’t think that’s going to be good for you.”
Violet smiled. “They’re just about the same color. Maybe she just wants to wear it instead.”
“She sprung from nowhere like one as well. Perhaps we should call her Daisy.” Nathaniel’s eyes were firmly on the dog as he scratched her neck and checked her over for injuries. He murmured sweet words into her ears and allowed her, his face stern as ever, to lick his stubbly cheeks. Any thoughts Violet might have harbored about taking the puppy for herself dried up like a leaf in the desert when she saw that his look of fondness never wavered, even when the puppy left muddy paw prints all over his clean clothes and upset some of the herbs in his basket during a particularly energetic bid for belly rubs. It was clear where she would find her home.
“Daisy it is,” Violet agreed quietly, smiling at them.
Grand Openings
Nathaniel was halfway through his second cup of tea before he even noticed the increase in foot traffic outside his front window. He strode across the floor of his empty store, teacup in hand, to see what the fuss was about.
Behind him, Daisy barked and padded over to stand beside him. Nathaniel used his free hand to scoop the puppy into his arms, as had become their custom over the past week. She left pale fur all over his clothes and had a habit of gnawing on the baseboards when he left her unattended, but Nathaniel already couldn’t imagine his life without Daisy. Pru had immediately taken to her as well, as he’d known she would.
“What’s going on, sweet girl?” he mused quietly, scratching her behind the ears and gently prying her razor-sharp puppy teeth away from his lapels. He peered out the window and found a tiered display of flowers outside his neighbor’s shop, partially blocking his view.
Ah.
So Violet had opened her doors.
Daisy whined, nosing his teacup until some of the hot liquiddribbled onto the saucer. Nathaniel set aside the cup, holding the puppy with both arms as he stepped outside. The front windows of Violet’s shop were framed inside and out with flowers. Wisteria hung from the roof, big bright blossoms wafting sweet smells up and down the street, so garishly out of season—particularly in their mountain climate—that it felt like some kind of ruse. Inside the window, shelves were loaded with greenery and flowering plants in pots and vases of all shapes, sizes, and colors, and in front of the door was her A-frame sign, much like his own, with a message written in chalk that he hadn’t been able to resist a response to.
