by Tasha Black
“I’ll figure it out,” he assured her.
“You have one more moon to do so,” she told him crisply. “After that I’ll intervene.”
“Understood,” he said.
“And do not harm that woman,” Ainsley told him sharply. “I recommend that you shift and run before you enclose yourself in a vehicle with her so close to our time.”
“Noted,” Dax said.
“Noted,” Ainsley sighed. “Fantastic. Things have been quiet around here for a while. But we both know that won’t last forever. You need to get your head back in the game. I’ve been soft on you, but it ends with the new moon.”
He felt a flash of her power that nearly took his breath away. It eased almost immediately, but its echo still tingled in his blood.
“Thank you, my alpha,” he told her, meaning it.
She could have easily forced his change from the beginning, called to him and commanded whatever she liked.
“Be good to her, Dax, and to yourself,” she told him more gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You deserve some goodness in your life.”
A grassy green sense of contentment filled him as his alpha expressed her approval.
He closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them again, she was gone.
8
Ava
The next morning, Ava watched the green countryside go by out the passenger window as Christmas music played on the radio.
“It’s amazing,” she murmured.
“What is?” Dax asked, looking over from the driver’s side of the old truck.
“Well, one minute I was at the airport in Philadelphia,” she said. “And then thirty minutes later I’m in a sweet little village. And now thirty minutes from there, we’re in the middle of farm country.”
“It’s not like that in Glacier City?” Dax asked.
“No,” Ava laughed. “You can cross the bridge into the suburbs, but the housing developments pretty much just go on and on after that.”
“I guess we do have quite a bit of variety here,” Dax said. “I probably don’t appreciate it enough.”
“Did you grow up in Tarker’s Hollow?” she asked.
“I sure did,” he told her.
“How nice that you’re raising your kids in the same town where you grew up,” she said.
He nodded with a funny look on his face.
“You’re not thinking of moving, are you?” she asked.
“What? No, no, I couldn’t,” he said. “I mean, I wouldn’t want to.”
“You want them to stay close to Jill’s mom,” she said, realizing.
“Yes,” he said. “Carol is super important to us. And it’s a good place for children.”
“That’s true,” she replied.
He was right, she’d spent all of two days in the little town and she already loved it. It was easy to see how children would love a place that had parks and a beautiful library and a welcoming community of people.
“How about you?” he asked her, with what felt like a studied lightness. “Have you ever thought about leaving Glacier City?”
Ava shrugged.
“I never really thought about it much. I have a nice apartment and there’s plenty of work.”
He nodded.
“Who knows though?” she said. “Now that I have to rethink my career path, maybe I’ll rethink my real life, too. It’s funny how much my perspective has changed this year.”
“The world is your oyster,” Dax declared, gesturing out at the endless cornfields.
Ava laughed.
The fields were dormant. Dried-out golden cornstalks folded over themselves as if they had fallen suddenly asleep.
“I guess that particular view isn’t exactly inspiring,” Dax said with a smile. “But you know what I mean.”
“Of course I do,” Ava agreed.
The song on the radio changed and suddenly Elvis was crooning through the speakers.
Ava broke into song along with him, unable to help herself.
“Hey, you’re a pretty good singer,” Dax said. “And listen, I can change the station if you want. I’m so used to playing PG music for the kids.”
“No, no, I like this,” Ava said. “My dad used to play the Elvis Christmas album all the time when I was a kid.”
Dax began to sing along too. What he lacked in skill he made up for in volume and enthusiasm.
The miles melted away and they continued on in friendly silence with occasional forays into Christmas carols.
When they had nearly reached the tree farm, the music broke for a weather report.
“Well folks, looks like we’ve got a snowstorm coming in after all. We’re looking at a high of forty and a low of thirty-one with an eighty-five percent chance of precipitation starting around nine pm. Sorry it’s not a school night, kids! Stay careful on those roads tonight, everyone.”
“Are we going to get stranded at this tree farm, Dax?” Ava asked. “Be honest.”
“Nah, this thing has four-wheel drive,” Dax said, patting the steering wheel affectionately. “Besides, we’ll be off the roads by the time that storm has a chance to touch down.”
“That’s good,” Ava told him. “The twins would be very sad if their dad didn’t get home before bedtime.”
“To be honest, I don’t think they’ll even notice I’m gone,” Dax confided. “Carol really spoils them. And she’s having a friend over to help her. They’ll wear the kids out.”
Ava smiled and gazed out at the road ahead. There was a gigantic sign shaped like a pine tree.
“Is that us?” she asked.
“Sure is,” Dax said. “That wasn’t such a bad drive. It goes faster with good company.”
Ava felt the return of the warmth in her chest.
This time it was harder to fight it.
I’ll just enjoy this little bit of time, she told herself. There’s no harm in it, and nothing’s going to happen.
But when they pulled up, a very worried looking man was waiting for them.
They got out of the car and headed over.
The man introduced himself as Matt Range, tipping his worn baseball cap as he did so.
“What’s up, Matt?” Dax asked, shaking the man’s hand.
“I’ve got some bad news,” Matt replied. “I’ve been trying to reach Ben Anderson all morning. Long and short of it is that two of my guys are sick and the third just twisted his ankle. I’ve got your trees cut, but they’re not wrapped, and I have no one to load them onto the truck.”
“No problem,” Dax said firmly. “I’ll take care of it, if you don’t mind helping me.”
“Are you sure?” Matt asked. “It would be two hours’ work with four of us and all experienced.”
“As long as you don’t mind me pitching in, we can knock it out today, I’m sure of it,” Dax told him.
“Your funeral,” Matt said with a shrug.
“Where are the trees?” Dax asked.
“Right this way,” Matt said.
They followed him down a dirt path, through a grove of maples and into the tree farm.
Neat rows of balsam and spruce lined the hillside. It was both impressive and dizzying to see so many at once.
“Here we go,” Matt said, gesturing.
Ava looked and saw an enormous collection of cut trees beside a small machine.
“Those are yours,” Matt said. “We’ll use the machine to wrap them, then we’ll carry them to the truck.”
Ava’s mouth dropped open at the thought. They were going to be here for hours.
“You have a radio?” Dax asked Matt cheerfully.
“Sure,” Matt said, cracking a grin. “A little music will help us pass the time.”
“Excellent,” Dax replied. Then he turned to Ava.
She smiled up at him, fascinated at the twinkle in his eye in the face of so much labor after he’d just spent the whole morning driving.
“Why don’t you take the truck and find us something for lunch?
” he asked her, handing over the keys. “I’ll be hungry before too long and I’ll bet Matt would join us for sandwiches or whatever you can find. We can wrap trees until you get back and load up the truck afterward.”
He knew she wasn’t strong enough yet to help with this task. It was sweet of him to give her a clear out, and better than sweet that he had thought of a way that she could actually help.
“No, no, no,” Matt cut in before she could respond. “My wife Layla is back at the house. Why don’t you go let her know we’ve got two extra hands today that’ll need lunch? I have a feeling she’ll put you right to work in the kitchen.”
“That sounds great,” Ava said.
“Go on up the path,” Matt said, pointing her toward the way they’d come in. “Once you pass the driveway the house is right there.”
“I remember it from when we pulled in,” Ava said. “Thank you.”
She headed up the path and went to the front door of the stone farmhouse.
The door burst open before she had a chance to knock.
“Hello there,” a large woman cried. “You must be Dax Walker’s girlfriend?”
“Oh, I, um, I’m his friend,” Ava replied awkwardly. “And you’re Mrs. Range?”
“Call me Layla,” she scolded. “Come on in, it’s freezing out there.”
“Matt mentioned that you might need help making lunch,” Ava said. “And it looks like Dax and I will be here a while. I can go get us some lunch if that’s an imposition.”
“Of course you will be, and don’t be silly,” Layla said. “There’s plenty for everyone. As soon as Matt realized he couldn’t reach Ben I figured we might have company. Though of course plenty of people would have headed for the hills when they heard there was no help here. Dax is a good man to roll up his sleeves after driving all morning.”
“That’s just what I was thinking,” Ava said, following Layla to the kitchen.
It was a tiny space but clean and well-lit with an opening to a small sitting room.
“Hell’s bells,” Layla said, dashing to the stove and stirring a simmering pot as she turned down the heat. “This stew always waits until the phone rings or nature calls before it boils.”
“What can I do?” Ava asked.
“Nothing to do for this stew but wait,” Layla said with a smile. “Why don’t you sit and keep me company? I’ve got a kettle on for tea. Do you like chamomile?”
“That sounds nice,” Ava said.
The big bay window of the sitting room overlooking the side yard and the drive. Ava could see the truck waiting.
As she looked, Dax appeared at the top of the path carrying a wrapped tree on his shoulder like it was nothing.
“He’s strong,” Layla said approvingly as she pulled two earthenware mugs from the cupboard and set them on the counter.
“He really is,” Ava agreed, still looking.
“They build them big and strong in Tarker’s Hollow,” Layla said. “Your town seems to have more than your fair share of brute strength.”
“Oh, I’m not from Tarker’s Hollow,” Ava said. “I’m just visiting from Glacier City.”
Outside, Dax was heading back toward the path. He noticed Ava in the window and gave her a wave and a big smile.
She waved back, smiling, too.
“Isn’t that sweet?” Layla said. “How did you meet Dax?
“I was best friends with his wife,” Ava told her.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Layla told her quietly.
“Thank you,” Ava said. “She was really special. I miss her a lot.”
“Well, I’m glad to see Dax with a woman,” Layla said. “He can use a friend. He’s still a young man.”
“Oh, I’m just here to visit, I’m not that kind of friend,” Ava said, embarrassed at having to explain twice that they weren’t romantically involved.
“Hm,” Layla said. “That’s too bad.”
“Well, his wife was my best friend,” Ava reminded her.
“So you shared a loss. And if she was your best friend and his wife you probably have a lot in common,” Layla pointed out.
Ava opened her mouth and closed it again, completely unable to respond.
“Oh Lord, I’m so sorry,” Layla said quickly. “Here I am poking my nose in other people’s business again. Matt will never let me live this down if he hears. Promise me you won’t saying anything?”
“Of course not,” Ava laughed. “It’s okay.”
“I just like seeing young people happy, that’s all,” Layla said. “Now tell me, do you want milk and honey in your tea?”
“Yes, please,” Ava said, finding herself in the mood for sweetness.
9
Dax
Dax was pleased to see his grandfather’s howling wolf mailbox, marking the tree-lined drive to the cabin. He had been worried that he might miss the landmark in the twilight.
“Here we are,” he said softly.
Ava had been so quiet ever since they’d left the tree farm.
He figured she was tired. It had been a long day, and she’d spent half of it in the car and the other half with a total stranger.
“Oh wow, it’s beautiful,” Ava said, gazing out at the huge white pines that lined the lane.
“I haven’t been here in so long,” Dax told her, privately hoping there wasn’t a hole in the roof, or a squirrel infestation. “A friend of my grandfather’s has a place up here. He checks on it from time to time, especially in the winter. But I haven’t really kept up with him about it.”
“Whatever it is, we’ll take care of it,” Ava said calmly. “Repairs can be done. We just have to take inventory today.”
At last the trees opened up to an overgrown meadow.
At its center was a small cabin with a large front porch. Though ivy grew up the columns, the porch looked sturdy and the whole house appeared to be intact.
Dax parked the car and they got out.
The air tasted like snow.
All around, the trees and wildlife called to his wolf. The pull of his other nature was nearly irresistible. The wolf pawed at his resistance, moaning to be freed.
“Let’s just get inside,” Dax said sharply.
“Sorry,” Ava said, scurrying for the door.
“No, no,” he told her, cursing himself inwardly for snapping. “I just meant I was anxious to see how it looks. I’m feeling kind of nervous about it.”
“Whatever is wrong can be fixed,” Ava repeated. “We’re just here to make a list.”
“Has anyone ever told you you’d make a great therapist,” Dax asked her, only partly kidding.
She grinned and he smiled back.
Sparks were flying between them again, but this time she didn’t turn away. His heart stuttered.
The first snowflake landed on his cheek with a tiny, icy kiss.
“Oh look,” Ava breathed. “It’s snowing.”
He fought an overwhelming urge to take her in his arms.
Instead, he tore his gaze from hers and looked around.
Sure enough, the sky was filling with delicate flakes. They looked like glitter against the pink twilight.
“I guess we’d better go in,” he said.
She headed toward the cabin and he followed.
The porch looked neatly swept, and he started to worry that maybe he ought to be paying his grandfather’s friend for his help.
When he pulled the key out from under the doormat, she laughed.
“Hey, if someone comes all this way to break in, I don’t want to make it hard for them,” Dax joked.
Ava watched as he turned the key in the lock.
The door swung open to reveal the little cabin, just as he remembered it. The hint of creosote entered his senses, bringing back memories of campfires.
The main room was open from front to back, so that from the front door he could see out onto the backyard and into the woods beyond.
A rag rug in concentric circles of red and gray took up most of th
e living space. To the left was a wood stove with a glassy front. To the right was an open counter to the tiny kitchen. A low sofa and big chair faced the wood stove.
Behind the kitchen stood the door that led back to the two bedrooms and the bath.
The big room was neat and tidy. The pine floors exposed along the edges of the rug were bright and clean.
A note on the counter peeked out from beneath a vase holding a few boughs of holly from the bushes out front.
“It’s so lovely,” Ava said.
“I clearly need to start paying grandpa’s friend,” Dax confirmed to himself, striding over to check out the note.
Dax,
Carol called ahead to say you were coming out with a friend. Maxine and I took the liberty of doing a little cleaning up and stocking the fridge. Hope you can stay for more than a few hours! Call if you need anything, you know the number.
-Jim
Dax put the note down slowly.
It was snowing, he was exhausted, and the cabin was clean and stocked.
Was the universe conspiring to weaken his determination to get home before he lost his fight not to fall for Ava?
“Wow, there’s lots of firewood here,” she remarked, looking at the built-ins flanking the wood stove.
Well, that settled it. Between the snow and the dark, it was better to stay off the road for a while.
“Since it’s clean and we have wood for a fire, what do you think about crashing here tonight?” he asked her. “I can call Carol and ask her to stay with the twins.”
She turned to him with an odd sort of expression. He couldn’t tell if it was alarm or anticipation.
He wasn’t entirely sure how he felt, to be honest.
“I guess it’s not good to drive in the snow after dark,” she said slowly, nodding. “Sure, let’s stay. If it’s okay with Carol.”
“I’ll call her now,” he told her.
He slid his phone out of his pocket. He was barely getting half a bar of reception.
“I’m just going to run outside to call,” he told her. “The cell phone reception here isn’t great.”
