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Seasons of Wither (The Great North Woods Pack Book 3)

Page 9

by Shawn Underhill


  “Sorry,” Ed said. “I didn’t mean nothing by it. Mrs. McCall said you were out hunting, so I figured that meant you’d be here at the camp. I tried calling to you before giving you a shake. You were out like a light.”

  “Is something wrong?” Lars asked, rising stiffly and brushing the leaves from his jeans. His eyes were coming into focus, his heart rate settling.

  “Not with me,” Ed answered. “I’m fit as a fiddle. Can’t say the same for you though.”

  “I’m all right.”

  “You sure?”

  “Just edgy. A little hungry.”

  “I can help you with the latter,” Ed said. “The old lady put together a fine beef stew this afternoon. Said to invite you over so she could meet you. I figured we could grab a cup of decaf at The Kitchen and then head to my place for dinner.”

  “Stew,” Lars repeated, still trying to steady himself. “Yeah, that sounds a lot better than the cat food at McCall’s.”

  Ed laughed. “Is that all she’s got?”

  “Just about.”

  “Well, we can just as well eat at The Kitchen, I suppose, if you ain’t feeling up to answering a bunch of questions. Save the stew for tomorrow.”

  “No,” Lars said, resting his hand on the old man’s shoulder. It was good of her to invite me; I won’t turn her down.”

  “It’s not all it appears,” Ed grinned, nudging the man with his elbow. “She’s heard all about the strange new man in town working for old Joe. She wants the inside scoop straight from the horse’s mouth.”

  “Yeah,” Lars said. “I’m feeling mighty popular lately.”

  “That you are.”

  “I’m not too sure I like it.”

  The two men started up the narrow path to McCall’s back yard. Just as they emerged from the dark of the woods to the pale yard under the sunset, Lars stopped.

  “Hey, old man. Let me ask you something.”

  “Shoot,” Ed replied, pausing and turning in his friend’s direction.

  “Tell me something. When you saw the wolves, were you able to understand them?”

  “Understand? Sure, a little. But they couldn’t speak to me like they speak with each other, if that’s what you mean. Why do you ask? You’ve seen ’em.”

  “Just to be clear,” Lars said, remembering the vivid speech of his dream. “Were you afraid of them? Really? All bull aside.”

  “No,” Ed said without hesitation. “Impressed? Yeah I sure was. But when you look ’em in the eye, you don’t see ill intent. You just feel … awe.”

  Lars nodded. The old man had had his first encounter as a harmless child. That was bound to evoke a different response from them. The second was with a young wolf—a teenager—oblivious to the battles of old. She was probably more nervous than he was. She couldn’t be compared with the old ones—not the old brothers, for sure.

  “It’s getting to you, ain’t it?” Ed said. “The pressure.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because I didn’t fall off the turnip truck yesterday.”

  “Born in the morning?” Lars joked halfheartedly.

  “But not this morning,” Ed grinned.

  “I’m getting to myself more than anything,” Lars admitted. “And I’m past hungry. That’s not helping any.”

  “Well, the latter can be easily fixed,” Ed said as he turned and started for the driveway. “After that, the former might come around on its own. And if it don’t … at least you won’t be hungry on top of it.”

  ~8~

  “That’s the way it goes,” Evie said, holding a pitchfork out toward Jess. “If you ride the horses, you have to help take care of them. There’s no special treatment for guests around here.”

  “But,” Jessie stammered. She was fidgeting from head to toe, struggling to hatch an exit strategy from the dreadful predicament she’d found herself in. Outside the barn the sun was sinking low on the horizon. Dinner time couldn’t have been far away, and she was hoping for a way to wiggle away from helping with barn chores. “But … you didn’t tell me that before we started. If I had known, I—”

  “Evie’s right,” Eli said, getting in on the joke from a few stalls down the aisle. “That’s the rule of the barn. If you ride them, you help clean up after them.”

  “But,” Jess stammered, her voice trembling dramatically. “It’s … it’s … poo. It smells bad enough as it is. I don’t want to get closer to it. Or stand in it. Or move it around.”

  “You’ll survive,” Evie said, remembering exactly why she’d never bothered to invite Jessie up for a summer visit. “There are plenty of gloves around, and you’ll be holding a fork.”

  “Not nearly a long enough one,” Jess grimaced.

  “You know,” Evie said thoughtfully. “I’ll bet Amy would help if I asked her to.”

  “Oh, that’s low. Please.”

  “Here,” Eli said, stepping up to the girl and holding out a brush. “At least give Chappy a quick brushing. Think of it as a way of thanking him for giving you a nice mellow ride.”

  “Brushing?” Jess said, instantly brightening as she swiped the brush from Eli. “Of course I’ll help. Why didn’t you mention it sooner?”

  Evie glanced at her cousin. He laughed quietly as he passed.

  “Hey,” he whispered, as Jess occupied herself talking to Chappy. “After two hours of riding lessons, I’m running late as it is. We can’t drag this on all evening.”

  ***

  “Well, how did it go?” Joseph asked. He was standing in the doorway of his study.

  “That. Was. Amazing,” Jessie replied, flipping her hair triumphantly as she entered the house. “I should’ve taken up horseback riding years ago. What was his name, Eli? He thinks I’m a natural.”

  No Evie said with her expression. Not even close. She closed the door behind her and slipped out of her boots.

  “Good,” Joseph said, taking note of Evie’s subtle communication. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. It would be a shame to come all this way and not enjoy a bit of the outdoors.”

  “Boots,” Evie said to Jess. “Gram won’t feed you if you scuff up the hardwoods.” Jess leaned forward and began prying the tall boots off while Evelyn, relaxing on one of the couches in the great room, simply nodded her approval.

  “I can see the leaves just fine through the windows,” Amy said from inside the study, “if you’re referring to me.”

  “Have you been on that computer all this time?” Evie called.

  Yes, Joseph nodded, even before Amy could respond in accordance. You know what you need to do, his steady eye contact told her. This is no time to be entertaining guests.

  “Okay,” Evie said, starting for the stairs. “Everyone follow me. We’ve got plans to make.”

  Amy emerged from the study and started across the great room. “You never told me there was a famous UFO sighting in the White Mountains,” she said.

  “Uh,” Evie stammered, looking to her grandfather. What?

  “Yeah,” Amy said, there was. It was a big deal; they even made a movie about it with the Darth Vader guy. Your Papa told me the whole story.”

  “It’s news to me,” Evie said. She clapped her hands. “Upstairs, both of you.”

  At the foot of the stairs the three met at approximately the same time. Of course Jess made sure to muscle Amy out of the way and proceeded up the stairs in the lead. Evie shook her head to her grandparents and then followed the two up to her room.

  ***

  “I don’t wanna go home,” Jess whined. She was sitting cross legged and cross armed on Evie’s bed. “I’ll be in heaps of massive trouble. Can’t I just stay here and do homeschool with you?”

  “I’m sorry,” Evie said. “You’re lucky your dad took it as well as he did. I expected to hear him yelling from the other side of the house.”

  “I’ll be behind,” Amy said, sitting at Jessie’s side. Her face took on the look of a deer in the headlights as the reality set in on her. “I’ve never been
behind in classes. Never.”

  “Oh, you’ll be fine,” Jess said. “Your parents don’t know what angry is. My dad’s gonna make me ride the bus for sure.”

  “My car,” Amy said, looking up to Evie. “I’d almost forgotten all about it.”

  “It’s covered,” Evie assured her. “Papa said he’d have it trucked down on one of the flatbeds as soon as it’s fixed up.”

  “That’s right,” Jess thought aloud. “You’ve still got the geek mobile. I can ride with you for the next month.”

  “Oh, no,” Amy said, scooting away from Jess. “You’ll never ride anywhere with me again.”

  “Ugh. Will you—”

  “Stop!” Evie demanded. “This will be our last night together for a long time. We aren’t going to spend it fighting. Are we?”

  “No,” Jess said to the floor.

  “Fine,” Amy mumbled. “You can ride with me. Just stop making fun of my car.”

  “Agreed,” Jess replied, as if she were doing her friend a favor.

  “There, isn’t that better?” Evie said.

  Both girls made weak attempts to agree. Evie couldn’t believe it.

  “Go ahead and pout,” Evie said at last. “But I’m going to have fun tonight. Get dressed for dinner. I’ve made reservations at one of the nicest places in the North Country for just the three of us.”

  “That’s so sad,” Jess said, covering her mouth with her cupped hand. “It just hit me … When will we ever have dinner together again?”

  ***

  Jessie was disappointed when Evie pulled her grandfather’s truck into The Kitchen’s parking lot, though she tried to put a positive spin on it.

  “I think it’s cool,” Amy said. “It’s more comfortable than some fancy place.”

  “At least we get to see where you work,” Jess said.

  “At least?” Evie said. “You thought I was serious about the reservations?”

  “No, no,” Jess said with a wave of her hand. “This is fine.”

  “Wait till you try the food before you judge the little place.”

  ***

  After they’d finished eating Evie let the girls in on the plan. To get them home as soon as possible, her Uncle Paul would fly the family jet to Alabama. Because her mother and aunt were ready to come home, Evie would fly down with the girls, giving them more time to spend together, and on the flip side get a chance to catch up with her mother on the flight back to Ludlow.

  “Whoa,” Jess blurted. “Did you say jet?”

  “She did,” Amy said as Evie simultaneously nodded yes.

  “Oh my,” Jessie sighed. “I was prepared to settle for first class. I mean, honestly, y’all have plenty of money, I can see. But a private jet? Wow. Just wow.”

  “I thought she’d grow out of this,” Amy said to Evie. As she spoke, the fact of the matter set in on her quite differently.

  “Oh, hush,” Jessie said. “Let me have my fun while I can. In a few years I’ll probably have to have a job.”

  “You poor thing,” Evie teased.

  “I’ve only flown once in my life,” Amy said nervously. Her expression was a thousand mile stare.

  “So … now you’re gonna fly again,” Evie said. “What’s wrong with that?”

  “She’ll be seasick,” Jess said. “Great. I finally get a chance to travel in style, and now she’ll be sick the whole time.”

  “Not the whole time,” Amy snapped. “Just … when we take off. And land. And if we hit turbulence or if I look out the windows too much.”

  “See?” Jessie said to Evie. “Can you imagine four days of this in a little car? I deserve some sort of a trophy or something for my patience.”

  Evie said nothing. The bickering had never been this bad at home, and she understood that the stress brought on by her sudden departure, followed by their impromptu road trip, was mostly to blame. She accepted her fault in the matter, but for obvious reasons, she could not speak completely freely with her friends, which left her with little to say. Life in Ludlow needed to seem dull to these outsiders. She needed to play her part in the charade, no matter how uncomfortable it was.

  “What’s wrong?” Amy finally asked, jolting Evie from her thoughts.

  “Are you kidding me?” Jess answered for her. “She’s preoccupied thinking about someone.”

  “What?” Evie said.

  “Is it that David guy?” Amy asked.

  “Maybe,” Evie mumbled. It wasn’t entirely false. And it was better than having to dance around the larger issue at hand. The whole pack was uneasy, but David certainly had become a concern to her as of late. Exactly why, she surely couldn’t share with them, even if she’d wanted to.

  ~9~

  Abel lifted his head from his outstretched forelegs. Blinking his eyes lazily as he looked over at the young wolf, he considered her plight. A few yards from him she lay curled up, resting her eyes but hardly sleeping. She does well on little rest, he thought. She keeps up well and says little of her discomfort, though I will not yet let her know that just yet.

  Lifting his eyes to the sky, the old one took note of the constellations and the setting moon; first light was not far. I have not been to the eastern shore in nearly a moon, he thought. I’ve not smelled the sea nor seen the moon hovering over her, shimmering over her surface; nor the sun rising over her at the start of a day.

  For a moment he took deeply of the cool air, as if hoping to find the scent of that place now occupying his mind. Then, lowering his head and eyeing the youngster again, he considered her further. Slowly, he let the idea of proceeding to that far-off place pass out and away from his conscience.

  She has adapted quickly, he reminded himself. For that I will reward her before tasking her again. She is hungry, no doubt; hungrier than ever before in her life. In all that surrounds her there is no familiarity, no set territory to miss, apart from that small place she’s grown up in. She is lost in her newness, unsteady and working hard to hide that fact from me.

  As he watched her, she opened her eyes halfway, just enough to see him and know that she was being watched, studied.

  “Is it morning?” she asked.

  The old wolf gave no reply. He blinked lazily, looked away and thought, Eager. Above all else, that’s what she is. Patience she has none of, nor even the control to appear otherwise. She is bold though. I believe she’s most anxious to learn to hunt, to stalk, to kill. I would encourage her openly, if not for her sensitivity to men. She desired to kill those hunters; I know that with certainty, though she performed with perfection when the time came. First I must teach her the art of control, the art of discretion. She is sensible enough, in my company, to refrain from following her instinctual desires. For now she will follow, watch, and learn with little resistance. She is soft clay at this point. But only because she does not yet comprehend how hard she will become. That is good. This is a hard world. The hard do well in it.

  The old wolf stood, stretching as he arose, then turned to face the younger one. “Yes, it is morning,” he said. “You have lounged about long enough.”

  ***

  It took Erica only a short time to realize that they had changed direction yet again. After days of steadily pushing northeast, for the past two days the old one seemed to be leading her in what felt like circles. She wouldn’t have minded the constant travel so much … if not for the hunger pangs screaming from within her. It had been two days since they’d stolen the deer. More than rest, more than water, she needed food.

  In accordance with her learning, she offered no questions to her great uncle. Following him diligently, though she felt her energy dropping with each passing hour, she kept a few paces behind him for half a day. Sooner or later, even he would have to eat. That idea is all that kept her going.

  At last, when the sun was high that day, Abel came to a complete standstill. Pointing his nose and sniffing intently, his body language indicated something of either great interest, or great concern.

  “What?”
Erica asked softly as she drew up to his flank.

  “A house,” was his simple reply. “Here in the middle of nowhere.”

  Creeping up until she stood abreast with him, the young wolf stared intently, scanning the area directly ahead. What she saw was a place of lighter timber compared to the heavy trees they had been passing under. Wisps of tall grass mingled with younger trees scattered throughout a broad area. Far ahead, near the center of this partially open land, she saw the outline of a decrepit house, and beyond it, a barn that had partially caved in.

  “What do you suppose?” Abel asked.

  “It must have been a small farm,” she answered. “Someone’s homestead.”

  “Correct,” the old wolf said. He was no longer tense with keen interest and wary senses. He sat back on his haunches, relaxed, like a massive black dog. Erica copied his action and looked at him, waiting for him to speak.

  “It was once a home,” he said, “though only for a very short time. My home, it was, in the days of my youth, when I foolishly gave effort to the lesser life of a man. I cleared land that would only grow over, built shelter that would settle, rot, and crumble. I poured forth a portion of my heart into this place. And for what? Look at it now.”

  Erica said nothing at first. Beyond being a remark against the folly of men, she knew that it was also an example and a lesson. Don’t repeat my mistakes, he seemed to be saying. She took the message to heart.

  “Then we are not far from the other pack,” she at last surmised.

  “No. Mere miles.”

  “Will we go to them?”

  “Perhaps,” Abel said. “But first we will check the perimeter. Then we will take water and rest.”

  “The others must have food.”

  “Is that all that occupies your mind?” the old Snow asked.

  “It’s been days since we ate.”

  “Days are nothing. It is weeks that you must be prepared to fast in the worst of times. Weeks are what separate the strong from the weak; weeks of flight or pursuit, or scarcity of game in certain seasons. To eat daily and live softly, one might find Ludlow a more suitable dwelling.”

 

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