“I’d just like a chance to show you that you’d be better off with me,” Lowell said. She twitched at his choice of words.
Ruby decided she should be honest with Lowell, at least about a few things. “Lowell, I’ve never thought of you, you know, that way.”
She saw the tightening in his expression.
“It has nothing to do with Rafe. Whether he’d come back or not, I wouldn’t . . .”
Lowell closed his eyes as if in pain, opened them, and took a step toward her, arms outstretched. “Red—”
She stepped back as if stung, hands up to ward off his advance. “Don’t!” she commanded, more harshly than she’d intended. “And don’t . . . don’t call me Red anymore.”
She turned and strode away, jogging back to her house. She went in the front door and saw her father splayed in his recliner watching an infomercial, a bottle of vodka hanging from one hand. She ignored him and went up to her room. She threw her purse across the room with impressive force, knocking a shelf from the wall. With a cry, she ran across the room, stooping to pick up the oak leaf.
The bottle she kept it in was broken, but the leaf was still intact. She breathed a sigh of relief. The pressed leaf, striated with yellow, orange, and red, was one of her most prized possessions. The day Rafe had given it to her was the first time she thought of him as something more than just a friend.
They’d been in the woods where they played frequently growing up, as did all of the kids of Piera. It was Ruby’s fifteenth birthday, which thrilled her because now Rafe couldn’t claim to be older than her, as he’d been for the past six months. They’d climbed an oak tree, one of the few that grew and thrived in the forest among the evergreens and quaking aspens that abounded. Straddling a branch high above the ground, they watched as Lowell searched for them. He finally gave up, going home.
Ruby looked up at Rafe, grinning, and saw him watching her with an odd expression on his face.
“What?” she asked defensively.
“Nothing,” he said. He scooted a little closer to her and reached behind her. As his arm bushed her shoulder, and his shoulder neared her face, Ruby felt something unusual crawl up her belly. It was a feeling of thrill, a sort of tightness that came when something exciting was about to happen. She breathed in Rafe’s familiar scent, and her heart skipped a beat. Heat flushed her cheeks as she realized she was thinking of Rafe in a way she definitely shouldn’t be.
He pulled back, the leaf held in his hand. “Look at this,” he breathed.
Ruby pulled her eyes from his face and looked at the leaf. It was amazing, the colors not easily found all together in a single leaf this early in the season. “Wow,” she agreed. “It’s beautiful.”
“Yeah, it is.” Something in his voice caught her attention and she looked at him to see him watching her. His words seemed to have a different meaning behind them, though she couldn’t fathom what.
“You should give it to your mom,” she said, trying to sound normal while wondering how Rafe would react if she threw herself at him and planted a kiss on him.
Rafe’s eyes dropped to the leaf. He caressed it with his thumb. Ruby’s gaze was drawn to the motion and she imagined him doing the same thing to her cheek.
“You know the legend of oak trees, right?” he said, shaking her from her musings.
“Oak trees have a legend?” she asked.
“Several actually. In many cultures the oak tree was seen as god-like, so it was considered a sin or bad luck to cut one down.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. And see that?” He pointed to a large round object about ten feet above their heads attached to a branch. “That’s called an oak apple.”
“Oaks don’t have apples.”
“It’s not an apple you can eat. They’re created by worms. Legend says if you find the worm, you’ll have prosperity and success your whole life.”
Ruby lifted a brow. “You’re making this up.”
“I’m not. If you catch a falling leaf before it hits the ground, you won’t get sick all winter.”
“Did you catch that one?” She pointed to the leaf he held.
“Nope. I plucked it.”
“Bad luck,” she teased.
“Maybe. The Druids practically worshipped oak trees. They used them in rituals, for protection, and they always carried an acorn to prevent old age.”
“Uh-huh,” she said disbelievingly. “And you know all this because . . .?”
“I read about it.” He shrugged and smiled at her, and her heart flip-flopped. “They’re strong and mighty, the mightiest of all the trees. Oaks symbolize strength and courage.” Ruby thought Rafe was like an oak in that way, strong and mighty. He was built for the hard farm work he did every day. His thick arms, broad shoulders, and hard muscled chest attested to that. He continued, unaware of her perusal. “Romans thought oak trees attracted lightening on purpose, which connected the oak to the sky god Jupiter and his wife Juno, the goddess of marriage. So the oak also symbolizes fidelity.”
Rafe held the leaf out to her. “Here. I want you to have it. That way, you won’t ever forget me.”
Ruby took the leaf, and not wanting him to know what it meant that he’d given it to her, said, “As if I could ever forget you, you big jerk. Who else would feed me full of a bunch of made up stories about a tree?”
Rafe laughed and swung down from the tree. Ruby tucked the leaf carefully inside her vest and then followed him. He picked up an acorn and handed it to her.
“Supposedly, the acorn keeps you young and increases fertility and sexual potency. You might need that later on.”
Ruby’s mouth dropped open in shock as Rafe laughed. Wisely, he began running. She threw the acorn at him. It glanced off the side of his head. She took chase, slowing enough to stop and scoop up the acorn, putting it in her pocket.
Remembering the acorn, Ruby dropped to her knees and scoured her bedroom floor to find it. It had been in the bottle with the leaf. She put her hand down—right on top of a piece of the broken glass. Cursing, she pulled her bleeding hand back just as she spotted the acorn. She grabbed it, putting it in her pocket as she stood.
She went into the bathroom and ran her hand beneath the water. Her skin was split wide enough she’d have to wrap it, but not deep enough for stitches. Once she had it clean, she tightly bound it with gauze wrap. She went downstairs and made her dad dinner, which she had to force him to eat. Then she got him up to his room, where he collapsed on the bed, fully dressed.
Ruby sighed, looking down at him. “Great life you have, Ruby Hood,” she muttered to herself. “Friday night, twenty years old, sitting at home, and going to bed at,” she glanced at her watch, “ten o’clock. Could life get any better?”
The next morning, life for all of Piera changed.
Part II: The Wolf
Ruby stepped out of the house at nine a.m. She figured Marina wouldn’t say too much about her showing up an hour early. Piera’s lone police car raced past, startling her. It never raced anywhere. People ran on foot in the same direction.
“What’s going on?” Ruby yelled to one of her neighbors as he hurried by.
“The wolf,” was all he said before breaking into a run.
Curious, Ruby followed the crowd, running along with them until they reached the Johansen farm where a crowd gathered around the large barn. Ruby pushed around the outside of the crowd. When she got to where she could see the door, she stopped, shock quivering through her. The outside of the big red door had thick, deep, violent scratches down the length of it. The heavy metal padlock that had secured the door was now a twisted chunk of broken steel.
“The wolf did that?” she asked incredulously.
“Yeah.” Ruby didn’t look to see who spoke. She couldn’t tear her eyes from the immense amount of damage, particularly the lock.
The Sherriff and his Deputy came out of the barn, along with several of the local farmers. They were dragging Bradford, the Johansen’s prized—and ve
ry valuable—bull. The bulk of its body had been shredded. Ruby gasped, along with many others in the crowd. Bradford was big, almost two tons, and mean. What kind of beast could damage such a large creature?
Two of those who helped pull the bovine from the barn were Rafe and Lowell. Lowell looked grim, but Rafe . . . Rafe looked furious. And, oddly enough, he also looked like he felt guilty about something. As if sensing her, Rafe glanced up, his gaze locking with hers. Without so much as a nod of acknowledgement, he turned back to the task at hand.
Bradford was the only loss to the Johansen’s livestock though other horses and cows filled the barn. There was much speculation as to why the wolf chose to attack the large bull instead of any of the smaller—and less valuable—animals. Once he was moved far enough from the barn, Bradford was doused with gasoline and set ablaze. The heat pushed the crowd back, the stinging fumes and fear causing tears among the spectators.
Sickened, Ruby turned away and walked to the shop, heart heavy for the loss. She was glad Marina kept to her word and only sent her on local deliveries and in helping prepare and pack the deliveries to be picked up this afternoon that went out into the world. Her mind was so distracted, she wouldn’t have been much help with anything else. Even Marina was quiet for most of the day.
At three o’clock, Ruby finished. She left the shop, through the front door, and saw Rafe leaning against a telephone pole across the street, staring distractedly in the distance, one arm crossed, the other hand rubbing his chin. She considered ignoring him, but then remembered his face as he helped with the grim task this morning and crossed the street to him.
“Hey,” she said.
He jerked as if surprised by her voice. “You’re speaking to me again?” he asked, glancing at her and away again.
“That was horrible this morning,” she said, not answering his question.
He nodded.
“That’s a hard loss for the Johansen’s,” she said into the silence.
“They have insurance,” he said offhandedly, pushing himself away from the pole. She was surprised by his seemingly callous answer. “Walk with me?”
Since she’d approached him, she didn’t feel she could say no, so she nodded. Rafe shoved both hands into his front pockets, which stretched his t-shirt tight against his arms and back, clearly showing how much bigger he’d gotten than she even remembered.
“What happened to your hand?”
Ruby glanced down at the bandaged appendage. “Nothing. I dropped a glass. No biggie.”
“Does it hurt?”
“No. I’d forgotten about it,” she said honestly. He nodded, still clearly distracted.
As they walked, he said, “Ruby, you need to leave town.”
“What?” That was the last thing she’d expected him to say.
“The wolf,” he began, blowing out a breath. “He’s getting worse. It’s getting dangerous. You need to go, just for a while.”
Irrational tears pricked Ruby’s eyes. Not, I’ll take you away to safety, but you need to go. And what, leave her father here at the mercy of some vengeful creature? Or Rafe?
“No.”
Rafe stopped, turning and grasping her by the shoulders. “Please, Red, you don’t understand. There’s too much danger for you.”
“For me? What about you? What about my father? Or your parents, or Lowell, or Marina, or anyone else in town?”
Rafe shook her as if her obstinacy frustrated him. He let her go, pacing away from her, running his hand through his hair. He turned back.
“What about taking your father to your grandma’s? You can go there for a while.”
Ruby’s grandma lived in Anaia on the other side of the forest, about twenty miles away by foot. It was also accessible by air, or on the river barge. Of course, Ruby would have to travel ninety-five miles to the city to get on the barge to Anaia since the river didn't run through Piera. There were no roads in or out of Anaia because of the steepness of the mountainside village. The risk of avalanche, as well as resistance by environmentalists, prevented access roads being built.
“No, Rafe. Marina needs me. My father needs me, and I’m not taking him to my grandma’s. She doesn’t need to see him like . . . like he is. So I’m staying.” His jaw clenched, and she said, “I’ll lock my doors every night.”
Rafe’s breath exploded out of him. “Are you kidding me? You saw what the wolf did to the lock on that barn.” He bent, yelling in her face now. “You think your house’s piddly little locks will keep him out? C’mon, Red, you’re smarter than that!”
She shoved her face even closer to his, which required her to go up on her toes. “And if you knew me at all, you’d know I’m not going to run away like a coward!”
Rafe flinched and backed away, returning to his full height. Ruby blinked, looking away.
“Like me?” he asked quietly. “Is that what you think? That I ran away, like a coward.”
Ruby swallowed. “No, not like . . .” She looked up at him. “Yes, Rafe, I do think that. You ran away. From me.”
He stepped toward her, taking her face between his hands. “There were . . . reasons I had to go, reasons that had nothing to do with you.” He paused. “And everything to do with you.”
“What reasons?” she whispered.
He released her and swung away, pushing his hands through his hair again. “I can’t tell you. I wish I could, Red.” He turned toward her. “I would tell you if I could. I can’t.”
Hurt wound around her heart, constricting. She nodded. “Fine. Okay. No worries.” She turned and walked away.
“Red!” he called. She ignored him.
She stopped at the drug store, made a purchase, and went straight home. Once arriving, she retrieved her purchase from the bag. She set the box on the counter, staring at herself in the mirror over the bathroom sink.
She wasn’t going to be his Red anymore.
* * * * *
“Rubes?”
“Yeah, dad?” she asked, moving to pick up a plate on the floor next to his chair. He reached out shakily and touched her hair. She looked up at him.
“What happened to your hair?”
“I dyed it.”
“It’s black,” he slurred.
“Yes,” she said, standing and walking into the kitchen. She’d decided to skip church today, something she rarely did. Marina had called and told her there were several more animals killed last night, all of them from where they’d been locked into their barns. The residents were in a panic. Ruby didn’t want to face Rafe’s knowing looks, so she was hiding at home.
She cleaned the house from top to bottom, organized drawers and cabinets, paid whatever bills she could with the meager amount of money they had, rehung her shelf in her room, and it was still early in the afternoon.
She sat with her father while he watched TV, reading a book. She read three chapters before realizing she had no idea what she’d read.
“Dad, did you hear about the wolf?” she finally asked. He was half drunk, but still somewhat coherent.
“What wolf?” he asked, his curiosity peaked.
“There’s a wolf that been killing some animals.”
“That’s nothing new,” he said, reaching for his bottle of vodka. “Wolves have been killing dogs and cats in Piera since the first farmer moved in.”
“Not dogs and cats,” she said. “Livestock. Yesterday, it killed Johansen’s bull.”
Her father pulled his hand back from the bottle and sat upright. “A wolf killed Bradford?”
“Yes.” Her father looked stunned, as well he should. “That’s not all.” He looked at her, and she could swear there was a bit of clarity in his eyes. “Bradford was locked up in the barn. The wolf got in, killed the bull, but left the other animals alone.”
He ran a hand agitatedly across his face. “How long has this been going on?”
“Not long. But it’s getting worse. This morning there were several more.”
“All locked in their barns?”<
br />
“Yes.”
“Ruby, we need to leave Piera until this problem is taken care of.”
Ruby rolled her eyes. He sounded like Rafe. “I’m not going anywhere, Dad. I have a life here. I can’t just walk away. Who knows how long it’ll take for them to find the wolf?”
“We should go anyway. You don’t understand.”
Red and the Wolf Page 4
