Legends of Havenwood Falls 2

by Belinda Boring

  “Are we moving again?” Daniel asked, hoping to disguise the disappointment in his voice. His dad’s expression said it all, in the tight set of his jaw and slight frown.

  “I’m afraid so, son. This time we’re heading east. West Virginia, to be exact.”

  Daniel’s shoulders dropped, and he hunched over, curling inward and turning his head so his dad didn’t see the tears welling in his eyes. It was worse than he could have imagined. Not only were they moving again, but they were leaving Colorado, the only constant—the only state he had always been able to call home.

  Two weeks later, they left, Daniel crammed in the cab of the truck next to his mom, who sat in the middle. The truck’s bed was piled high with their belongings, covered by a large black tarp to protect their things from rain.

  The farther they drove, the more uneasy Daniel grew. He wanted to go back, felt it in his bones that they were heading in the wrong direction, but he was powerless to do anything, forced to follow his parents.

  As they crossed the state line and entered Kansas, Daniel made a promise to himself: he would come back. As soon as he was able, he’d make his way back to Colorado.

  Chapter 2

  Ten Years Later June 1957

  Daniel grabbed the paper sack of groceries, the bottles inside clinking with the movement. He thanked the cashier and started to leave the variety store that was on the corner of his street. He’d had a long day, and all he could think about was the cold six-pack of Coors he was carrying. His current foreman was a grade-A asshole who tested Daniel’s temper. Fortunately, he had been training since he was a teenager to keep that temper in check. Sprouting claws or partially transforming into a mountain lion when he was surrounded by humans was a recipe for disaster.

  He was about ready to leave the store when a flyer pinned to the community bulletin board caught his attention:

  LOOKING FOR A CHANGE?

  CONSTRUCTION FOREMAN NEEDED

  MUST BE EXPERIENCED

  MUST HAVE OWN TOOLS

  Spend the summer in the mountains and be part of an exciting new opportunity.

  Call 6-4511 for details and to apply.

  Daniel unpinned the flyer and tucked it inside the bag. He had been looking for a change, and escaping the confines of the city appealed to him. With the prospect of something new ahead, his steps were lighter as he walked down the street to his apartment. Daniel and his mom lived on the bottom floor, while a young family lived upstairs in their two-story building. His mom, Margaret, was sitting out on the small porch, which was just large enough to accommodate the rocking chair she occupied. Late afternoon sun blanketed her in golden light, changing her hair from light brown to blond.

  “Ah, there’s my boy! Come sit, tell me about your day. Dinner will be ready in about ten minutes.”

  He complied and sat on the top stoop, stretching his long legs out in front of him. Dust covered his well-worn denim carpenter pants and his heavy boots. He paused for a moment with his eyes closed and his head tilted back as he scented the air and listened to the noises surrounding him. With his heightened senses, he could pick up so much more than a human. He could hear people talking two streets over, and he smelled someone grilling chicken, the sweet tang of barbecue sauce lacing the air. His stomach rumbled, and he opened his eyes. Reaching into the bag, he pulled out a beer. Holding the top against the railing, he smacked his hand hard on the cap, and it popped off, landing on the small patch of grass next to the walkway.

  After a few long swallows, he sighed in contentment and grinned up at his mom. “What’s for dinner?”

  “Steak and potatoes. The potatoes are finishing up in the oven now. I made extra, in case you’re hungry.” She raised an eyebrow at him when his stomach rumbled.

  “Thanks, Ma. I could eat a horse. It was a long day.”

  They chatted while he finished his beer, then went inside. As he pulled his beer out of the bag to put the rest of the bottles in the icebox, his finger brushed against the flyer, slicing his skin. He winced and examined the paper cut. It was small, only a tiny drop of blood bubbling to the surface. Shrugging, he stuck his finger in his mouth and sucked, shoving the flyer in his back pocket. For some reason, he didn’t want to show his mom. Once he knew more and if he was offered the job, then he’d tell her. It would mean leaving her temporarily, but he knew she would be fine. She was strong, tough as nails, and had been through so much that he didn’t want her to relocate with him. He’d send money back to take care of the bills that his dad’s life insurance policy didn’t cover.

  “I’m going to go wash up before dinner,” he told his mom, who was pulling potatoes out of the oven, and walked down the narrow hallway to his bedroom. Once inside, he stripped off his shirt, the fabric stiff with dried sweat, and tossed it in the hamper. The paper in his back pocket crinkled, reminding him of its presence. He pulled out and unfolded the flyer then immediately dropped it like it was on fire. The wording had changed.

  COME BUILD YOUR FUTURE

  AND HAVENWOOD FALLS’ FUTURE

  Call 6-4511 for details and to apply.

  “Daniel, dinner’s ready.” His mom’s voice drifted down the hallway. He lifted up the paper from the floor very carefully with two fingers and held it away from him like it was poisonous. He set it on top of his dresser and quickly left the room, needing time away to process what just happened. Maybe it was the beer on an empty stomach that was making him see things. That was the only logical explanation.

  He was quiet during dinner, and his mom noticed.

  “What’s going on in that brain of yours?” she asked when she started to clear the table. “You hardly said a thing tonight.”

  “Mom, do you believe in magic?”

  She paused and tilted her head to the side before answering. “Of course I do. Remember those witches who lived on our street in Pueblo? They cast some pretty incredible spells. Then there is us. I think a little magic was involved to create shifters. Why do you ask?”

  Daniel chewed on his lower lip as he debated whether to tell her, but not one to keep secrets from his mom, he stood up.

  “I’ll be right back,” he said and hurried to his bedroom. He grabbed the flyer, cautiously looking to see if the message had changed, but it was still the same. He strode into the kitchen and set it on the counter next to the stove with a dramatic flourish.

  “What do you see?” he asked his mom.

  She set the dish she was washing back in the sink and dried her hands on a towel before coming over to look. He watched her eyes dart as she read the brief summons.

  “It’s an advertisement for a construction job. Are you thinking about calling?”

  “You don’t see anything about building a future in Havenwood Falls?”

  His mom frowned, deepening the lines around her mouth and the furrows in her forehead. She looked down at the sheet of paper again and slowly shook her head. She glanced up at him, her expression changing to one of concern. “Obviously you’re seeing something different. Is that why you asked me about magic?”

  Daniel let out an exasperated sigh and buried a hand in his thick, russet brown hair. He started pacing the length of the kitchen, a habit he learned from years of watching his dad do the same thing. “The original message was a generalized one for a construction foreman, like the one you are still seeing, but it’s changed, for me. Holy cow, I sound crazy! Someone is going to lock me up in the booby hatch.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Daniel. Come here and sit down.”

  His mom tucked her skirt behind her knees before she sat at the dinette table. The white top had already been scrubbed clean. The napkin holder and glass salt and pepper shakers stood in their usual place at the center. She lifted up the paper to the overhead light and examined it closely. Daniel sat down across from her and watched, his fingers tapping the table. She brought it close to her nose and inhaled deeply, her eyes briefly changing to their cat shape and flashing their bright amber color before turning back to human.


  “There’s something faint—an essence that’s definitely magical in origin. I believe you, son. I think forces are at work here.”

  “Is it a trick, though? A trap by humans? Should I trust it?” He stood up and walked to the icebox, yanking on the chrome handle hard enough that the entire unit scraped forward on the floor. He slowed and took a deep breath. Even though he was home and away from humans, he couldn’t get in the habit of displaying his strength. His father had taught him to always stay contained and control his emotions, which was easier said than done when he was a teenager. Now that he was twenty-five, it had become easier, but the rare display of his supernatural side, triggered by emotion, still happened.

  He grabbed a beer and popped the cap off with his bare hands. Daniel didn’t sit back down. His shifter side was itching to break free. It felt like the mountain lion was pacing just beneath his skin, its tail swishing from side to side with agitation.

  “I think it would be highly unusual for humans to employ magic to lure you into a trap. Besides, we’re fairly new to town, and we haven’t given anyone any reason to suspect we’re different. We’ve been so careful over the years.”

  What his mom said made sense. His dad had been so adamant that they move often enough to not raise suspicions. Daniel was raised to be as human as possible. When they did shift, to appease their other nature, his dad scouted out unpopulated and remote locations in advance. He and his mom continued all of these practices after his dad died. Did Daniel think his dad was a little paranoid at times? Yes, but he hadn’t witnessed the horrors his dad had. They kept to themselves and interacted with humans only out of necessity. They didn’t forge friendships with neighbors, because they were never in one place long enough. Daniel longed for a community, though, for relationships and for an existence that wasn’t so . . . lonely.

  “I’ll admit I’m intrigued, and who or whatever is behind the message has my attention.”

  “Same here. What are you going to do?” his mom asked.

  “I don’t know. I need to shift and go for a run to think.” Daniel set the empty beer bottle on the counter.

  “Go and be careful.”

  Daniel went outside to his truck—the truck that used to be his dad’s—pausing to run his hand along the dent in the driver’s side door. He’d avoided bringing it into a shop to have the damage fixed. His mom thought it was morbid that he kept that reminder of the accident that took his dad’s life, but it was a reminder for him that while his kind may have enhanced strength, reflexes, speed, and senses, they were mortal like humans. His dad’s head had cracked against the window upon impact and broke open like an egg.

  The door creaked on its hinges when he opened it. The truck was over ten years old now and had seen a lot of miles. He imagined his joints would be protesting like that someday, if he was fortunate enough to live a long life. He turned the key in the ignition, and the engine roared under the hood. Daniel pulled away from the curb and headed out beyond the city limits.

  It hadn’t been difficult to convince his mom to move back to Colorado. While West Virginia and Kentucky had some beautiful forests, they never felt connected to the East as they did with the wilderness of the Rockies. They had chosen Fort Collins since it backed to the Arapaho and Roosevelt National Forest. Acres of mountains and untamed land were a short drive away and offered plenty of space to discreetly shift and roam for hours. Away from the noise and distractions of civilization was where Daniel did his best thinking.

  He found a deserted place to park in the shadows and climbed out. He raised his head, his nostrils flared as he scented the air, picking up all sorts of wild scents. His inner mountain lion itched to be free. Soon, he said to it and moved across the field toward the edge of the forest and the cover the tree line provided. Once there, he unlaced his boots and stripped off his clothes. His skin practically glowed in the moonlight, every muscle rippling with movement when he bent over to hide his clothes underneath a bush. He stayed in a crouch and called his animal forth. The familiar sting of claws breaking through the ends of his fingers and toes before his hands and feet transformed into paws came first. His bones snapped and muscles pulled as they made his new form. It was over in seconds, and then Daniel was loping through the woods, squirrels, birds, and rabbits scattering before him, ever wary of the predator that had just joined the night.

  Dawn was approaching when he shifted back to his human form, his bones feeling heavy from exhaustion. Daniel slipped on his clothes and made his way back to his truck with purposeful strides. Listening to instinct, or whatever longing tugged at him from inside, he had made a decision. He was going to take a chance and call about the job in Havenwood Falls.

  Chapter 3

  “Parker’s Perfect Placement Agency, this is Patty. How can I help you?” The woman who answered the phone had the chirpiest voice.

  “Uh, hi, I’m calling about the construction foreman position.”

  “Oh, great, and how did you hear about this job?”

  Daniel sat down at the table in the kitchen with the phone in his hand, a pencil in his other hand poised over a notepad. “A flyer was posted on the community board at Art’s Variety in Fort Collins.”

  There was a pause, and all Daniel heard in the background was the clack-clack of keys on a typewriter. “Fort Collins. Wow, that’s pretty far.”

  “Where exactly is Havenwood Falls?” Daniel asked. “I looked at a current map and couldn’t find it anywhere.”

  “Well, that’s because we’re Colorado’s best kept secret!” Daniel moved the phone away from his ear. The woman’s voice was so sweet, he expected syrup to start pouring out of the receiver. “Now tell me your name. If you have the time, we can do a phone interview right now. The fact that you’re calling because of the flyer pre-screened you.”

  “It did?” He thought that was strange, but he had never worked with an agency before, so he shrugged it off. “My name is Daniel McCabe.”

  Patty asked him about his construction background, of which he had plenty. He learned his trade from hands-on experience starting in high school. Once he graduated, he entered the industry full time, starting as a day laborer and working his way up. He provided three references and their phone numbers. Patty explained the job was for a new commercial building, but there were ample opportunities beyond that.

  “Daniel, thank you for calling. I just need to call and check your references. Hopefully I’ll have good news by the end of the day!” she chirped.

  After the call disconnected, Daniel stared down at the notepad. His one question he had written down in advance remained unanswered: Where is Havenwood Falls?

  Later that afternoon, Patty Parker called back and offered Daniel the job. They agreed that he would start the following Tuesday, but he needed to be there Monday to do paperwork. When he asked for directions, he was instructed to meet a shuttle bus in Grand Junction, and he could either take the shuttle or follow it into town.

  “We’re kind of in the middle of nowhere, and it’s easy to get lost if you’ve never been here before,” she explained.

  Daniel clenched the steering wheel tight with anticipation as he drove past a sign constructed out of river rock, a blend of muted blues and grays. Black wrought iron lettering spelled out Havenwood Falls. His journey had been long, but uneventful. He took his time, keeping the shuttle in sight, but not taxing the old truck as the winding road climbed to higher elevations. With his windows down, the air was cool yet sweet from the lupines that lined the road, creating a colorful border for the dense forest that lay beyond. A hawk cried and circled in the sky ahead before disappearing in the tree tops. He sensed he was being watched. That something or someone was concealed in the woods, tracking his progress, and had been following him for a couple of miles, since he passed through an invisible border made of magic. It was subtle, a tickle across his skin, but magic nonetheless. He didn’t sense a threat, so he had kept going.

  Now the trees began to thin, and drivewa
ys appeared on the side of the road leading to small homes. Daniel continued on, following the shuttle, but he sensed he would have found his way on his own, if he focused on the internal tugging. It was like a magnetic attraction or an internal compass leading him in the right direction. The shuttle continued on the road that became Main Street. He drove past the high school, a three-story brick structure with arches marking the front entrance. A sign out front said “Congratulations to the Class of 1957! Go Dragons!”

  Across the street, a restaurant was hopping. He spotted waitresses on roller skates expertly balancing trays full of food. He inhaled the aroma of grilled meat, and his stomach rumbled. Burger Bar was definitely going to be one of his first visits. There was a sign in the parking lot behind Burger Bar that said: “Miller’s Plaza Coming Soon!” and he wondered if that was the project he would be involved with.

  He continued on, and sun filtered through the trees that lined the street. He slowed down as he approached the shopping district, as there were a lot of pedestrians. People watched him drive by. Typical behavior for small towns, where the residents probably knew everyone and their vehicles. With the two-tone buttercream and brown paint job, plus the large dent in the driver’s side, and the distinctive growl of the engine, his truck was one of a kind, and it was obvious, based on the stares, that they didn’t recognize it.

  He took note of Campbell’s Market, the dark green canvas awning providing shade for fresh ears of corn, cucumbers, and tomatoes for sale in bins underneath a large window. He drove past a saloon and made note of that, too. The town square appeared to his left. A giant fountain in the middle sparkled in the sun. A jazz band was set up in the gazebo, playing to a small crowd. All of the buildings he saw were well maintained. He had entered a town worthy of a postcard.