by LoRee Peery
“I’ve changed in many ways since that picture was taken.”
He nodded and wondered again what her story was. “What else you got?”
Beth handed him a receipt from the county’s power company. Faith Bible Church was the customer, with the address of the cabin.
“Guess that makes you legal. I’ll just have a look around, then.”
Beth Phillips was already pulling on her work gloves. “See you around.”
Got to be more to this woman than all those last names.
Aiden set off into the woods, following the wolf’s retreat. He zigzagged, eyes glued to the ground on the way back to his Jeep. No sign of tracks or small carcasses. The wolf seemed to have vanished.
He retraced his steps. This time he paid attention to the surroundings. Deadfall, including two large ash tree trunks, and the natural uneven ground would give a wolf plenty of places to burrow in. Plum thickets also provided cover for animals, as well as birds.
He still preferred cold-blooded to warm-blooded creatures. Give him an armadillo or a turtle any day. An armadillo in Nebraska made as much sense as a wolf in the wilds along the Platte River.
Halfway to where he’d parked, the banging clatter of rubble tossed into a dumpster reminded him of Beth’s work ethic. He had the sudden urge to see Beth Phillips at work. Restraint told him she wouldn’t appreciate him watching her from afar. He swung around and caught his toe on an exposed root. If he’d had his mind on his own work, instead of an impressionable woman, he would have seen it. Aiden jerked back to task and continued observation as he hiked to his vehicle. Still no wolf sign.
Minutes later, Aiden filled his gas tank at the station on the river edge of Platteville and surveyed the blocks around him. The typical, small Nebraska town juxtaposed aged architecture, some empty buildings, and judging by the concentration of vehicles down Main Street, a number of thriving businesses.
A red SUV purred to a stop on the other side of the pump. The two well-muscled men inside opened and shut their doors like an exclamation point to some shared joke. Aiden noted the patches on the matching polo shirts. These men were volunteer firemen.
Smiles remained in place as the silver-haired passenger bobbed a nod towards Aiden on his way inside. The driver with a short-trimmed beard chuckled and unscrewed the gas cap.
When their gazes connected, the man nodded in greeting. “Haven’t seen you around. Just passing through?” He asked, leaning a shoulder against his vehicle’s door frame.
Aiden noted unusual golden eyes. “Business for now. Aiden Holt, Nebraska Game and Parks Commission.”
“Eric Todd.” He extended a hand. “Welcome to Platteville. What brings you to town?”
The name kicked in Aiden’s interest in the literal meaning. Eric. Ever-powerful. Todd. One of Beth’s former last names.
“Looking for a wolf. Heard of anybody seeing one?” Aiden asked.
“Around Platteville? That’s a stretch.”
“Believe I ran into one myself, today.”
“No way.” Todd welcomed his silver-haired companion, “Hey, Rainn, this guy claims there’s a wolf in the area.”
Todd’s buddy introduced himself as Rainn Harris. Never heard of the name Rainn.
“A wolf, you say?” Harris asked.
“I’ve been talking with Beth Phillips out at the Sawyer place.”
Todd’s smile fell.
“She claims a wolf running in front of her made her crash her car some time back.”
Eric Todd scrubbed a hand down his whiskers. “I know who she is. And I remember that accident. I pulled her out of a burning car.”
“Thought a dog ran in front of her,” Harris commented. “Beth is cleaning up the place Sawyer willed to the church.”
“Same story she gave me. When I met her earlier I also saw a flash of big canine.” Aiden retrieved two business cards and handed them out. “I’m at the B & B. That’s my cell if you hear or see anything that’ll help me run this wolf down.”
“Today’s Café is a good place for breakfast. And to catch local gossip,” Rainn offered.
“Thanks for the tip. Most people have a fear of wolves, you know. They’re wild. They’re dangerous. And they get blamed for a lot of things, especially when it comes to livestock. So if there’s any local talk, I’d like to know so I can check it all out.”
“You’ll get that buzz at the café downtown. But for the best cheesecake and specialty coffee, go to Frivolities,” Eric said.
“What kind of business is Frivolities?” Aiden wondered aloud.
“The local women’s place,” Eric said.
“Where we’ve got connections,” Rainn added. Then the men shared grins and a fist bump.
“I’ll see you around.” Aiden tried not to envy their camaraderie as he watched them leave.
How his father would love the reason Aiden was in Platteville. The man lived for wolves, preferring them over his own family.
Aiden shook off past interference. Inside the convenience store he filled his to-go mug with coffee, and grabbed a power drink from the cooler.
Now that he’d met a man from Beth’s past, he was more ready to check on her last names. And then ask the townspeople about wolf rumors.
****
At first light, Beth determined to research wolves at the library, possibly finding the books she’d seen before. Renovation work could be delayed. She’d heard the wolf howl again during the early morning hours. She’d lain awake, trying to picture where he could be hiding out in the woods.
The Bible mentioned wolves in some verses. But to her recollection, none of them were good references. It was way past time she found a solid concordance.
Without looking up any of the verses, she assumed wolves in the Bible referred to the two-legged kind. Then again, maybe not.
Get your mind off that weasel of an ex-husband.
True to habit, Beth stepped outside to check the sky. Dawn and dusk were the only times she didn’t care for all the trees. The sun wasn’t visible until it was higher in the sky. Sometimes she caught hints of crimson, violet, gold, and even fuchsia, through trunks and branches. But she missed viewing sunsets. The colors of twilight brought her peace, as though God painted the sky to say He’d get her through the dark of night.
She heard the Canadian geese before their V-formations filled the sky overhead. Honking turned into a cacophonous umbrella that faded into the distance until the sound was indistinct.
When she lowered her eyes, she met the wolf’s golden gaze amongst the camouflage of low growing bushes. The remnants of fall colors freckled the greening leaves. Her senses skipped.
Based on what Beth had read about wolves, she had the attitude of awesome fear; and the assurance that as long as she never came between the wolf and its food, she’d be safe. Awesome fear is what I feel towards You, dear Father. Thank You for bringing this wolf into my life.
She couldn’t help beaming. He was magnificent. Intelligence shone from his eyes.
“Wow. It’s like you can read me. Soul, heart, and spirit. Maybe they’re synonymous. Look at me, the way I’m talking to you.” She remembered something she’d read. “I’ll bet you won’t be happy until you find a girl wolf for company.”
The wolf remained mute. He dropped his muzzle onto his front feet, rear in the air.
“So you want to play?”
She sidestepped to the right.
The wolf stood and jumped to his left.
They continued to dance, with the wolf mirroring Beth’s movements.
Restless and flighty, Beth was quick to laugh. The wolf acted as though he wasn’t sure where to land.
They continued to glide around each other. She wondered if the wolf saw her own curious respect.
Beth burst out laughing and doubled over to relieve her panting, hands braced over her knees. “I’m going to find some treats for you when I’m in town. Wonder if Mr. Game-and-Parks Aiden Holt would approve of that.”
She con
centrated on her little corner of the world and the joy in feeling blessed to be alive. When she looked up, the wolf was gone. He represented an elusive freedom, to appear and disappear at will.
Peering into the trees, she caught movement. The wolf turned, looked back over his shoulder. Their gazes connected. What in the world was he trying to communicate?
She wanted to be a poet, able to record their exchange. He all but vaporized in the undergrowth.
Beth left her poetic thoughts and reentered the cabin. Too impatient for the propane heating stove to get the water hot, at least the cold plumbing worked, she took her bracing sponge bath right there in the front room.
She drove her trusty blue truck into town. Her heart was in a hurry to discover another glimpse of the wolf, but she kept the speed right where it should be. She couldn’t help herself. Every bend in the road, every change in the landscape, she roamed a searching look, hoping for a glimpse of the wolf.
Bart and Brenda Whitney’s place was the last acreage of size before the smaller lots in the newest development. The Whitneys housed a winsome array of miniature animals; an alpaca pair, Shetland ponies, a miniature donkey, even fainting goats. Those exotic animals could be viewed as a surefire menagerie of temptation for a hungry wolf.
Beth couldn’t prevent the giggle that escaped. She’d stopped one day, at Brenda’s invitation, shortly after she’d started working on the cabin. With her own eyes she witnessed the tiny, fifteen-pound goats faint dead away. She could hardly believe their behavior, since she’d never considered herself a threat to anyone.
She sobered. A hungry wolf wouldn’t be able to resist such animals.
“What do you drive, Mr. Game-and-Parks Guy?” Beth scanned passing license plates when she entered town, searching for one with letters before numbers, which indicated city rather than the county plate number.
She turned onto Main Street, all five blocks of it, from the west end of Platteville. Frivolities, the crazy curiosity shop in town, drew her to stop for a fresh cup of spiced chai tea. The library could wait.
The Frivolities entrance beckoned with its bright hot pink and lime green tulle. Today a painted rainbow accented one of the windows. Moselle Todd’s doing, no doubt. And not a free spot to park right in front.
She drove on by so she could turn around. And couldn’t help but remember the first time she went through the tulle-draped front door, scant months earlier. Returning to Platteville was part of her recovery. She’d come back to seek Moselle’s forgiveness. God did miracles in turning around attitudes of the heart.
Beth still blamed herself for the hurt she had caused both Eric and Moselle. They were her best friends in high school. But just prior to graduation, they had a serious tiff. Before her friends had a chance to work things out, Beth had been willing and waiting to comfort Eric in the only way she knew at the time. But their marriage had been a bad idea from the start.
God had enabled Eric and Moselle to blissfully reunite so they were happily married now. Moselle Todd owned a third of Frivolities, along with her mother and aunt. Beth worked on being friends with all of them, and now she worked part-time in the shop.
Guilt didn’t come from God. But knowing in one’s head and keeping it from one’s emotions were two separate things. Her actions as a teenager influenced her best friend, Moselle, to leave Platteville earlier than planned.
Beth parked across the street. When she got out of the pickup, she noted a floral-printed canvas shoe. It lay in its solitude, wedged between the curb and a wide pickup tire, below a trash receptacle on the sidewalk. Ever since she could remember, she had noticed single abandoned shoes, alone in the streets and along the curbs. She always wondered why people had slung them aside. No doubt, just for orneriness. Yet, she identified with their isolation. She picked it up.
No traffic came from either end of the street. She couldn’t help the old habit of scanning her environ, on the lookout for danger. Barton had once kept such close tabs on her that he somehow always knew where she was and what she was doing.
She shook off the old ghost, and zeroed in on the main entrance to Frivolities.
Opening the door, she compared herself to the wolf. They were a pair. She never really felt lonely, because a person is never alone with the presence of the Lord. But she and the wolf lived solitary, isolated lives.
Was the magnificent creature searching for a mate?
She was searching as well, definitely not for a mate.
Her venture was finding her place in the world. Her purpose for staying in Platteville had to be more than helping out here in the funniest shop in town. Once the old Sawyer cabin was fit for church retreats, she’d have to find a new source of income.
Who was she kidding? She’d stay in Platteville because Barton had no way of knowing she was here.
3
“Good morning, Beth. How’re things at the cabin?” Geneva Harris, Moselle’s vivacious red-haired mother, greeted her.
“Only one room is cleaned out. But I’ll get there. I woke up all full of spring. Birdsong lifts the soul, don’t you think?”
Without waiting for an answer, Beth addressed Geneva’s sister. “Lanae, I’m hankering for cheesecake for breakfast. Whatever flavor you have today.”
Lanae Petersen, the third owner of the shop, was recovering from hepatitis C. She looked really good today. Lanae had gained weight, and her skin wasn’t sallow. Being in love with Sage Diamond had a lot to do with that, Beth figured.
All these love birds. Shortly after Moselle and Eric reunited, Geneva fell for and married Eric’s friend Rainn Harris. Then Lanae got together with cowboy Sage.
Good for all of them. Loving Jesus was enough for Beth. For now, anyway.
Rainn greeted her with mug in hand. “What’s with the dirty shoe?”
Beth shrugged. “Guess I forgot I was still carrying it. I don’t know why, but I’ve always wondered about single shoes tossed in the street. And I have this crazy compulsion to pick them up. What does the owner do with the other one?”
“That’s it!” Rainn gave a shout. “Oh, wow. ‘The Other One.’”
Everybody in the place stopped to stare at Rainn’s outburst.
“The name for my art studio across the street. The Other One, what a catchy name,” he supplied.
Geneva kissed him on the lips. “That’s wonderful, babe. A perfect name.”
“How’s that coming along?” a woman Beth didn’t know asked.
Beth caught Moselle’s gaze. She wondered if Moselle remembered doing the same thing when they were teens. They’d silently communicate, tuning others out. Could Moselle have figured out the next time Beth needed to work and was about to tell her?
They remained connected until Moselle set Beth’s order on the table. She pulled a folded sheet of paper from her Frivolities apron pocket. “Here’s our schedule, as well. Let one of us know if these dates won’t work for you.”
Beth beamed, hoping her expression revealed how much Moselle’s acceptance and forgiveness meant to her; that they really were on the same page, thought-wise. The peanut butter and chocolate cheesecake swept through her senses.
Moselle nodded and grinned.
She knew without words Moselle was recalling the peanut butter spread on graham crackers, smothered with chocolate syrup, they often shared as a midnight snack. When Beth raised her eyes a few bites later, Aiden Holt filled her vision.
Her heart stuttered.
This time she wasn’t choked by any kind of fearful reaction. His good looks all but caught her with her mouth agape. He made her think of trees in the woods and names for shades of brown. Walnut hair, with a touch of silver, the way the sun hits leaves just right. His eyes weren’t ordinary brown. Not dark brown, but brown with a touch of cinnamon. Earthy.
She swallowed her last bite without tasting it.
Was she in trouble here? Hadn’t she convinced herself Jesus was enough man for her just a few minutes ago? She hoped she was only admiring a handsome f
ace.
If Jesus stood in front of her, though, she guessed He wouldn’t be wearing a scowl.
****
The smell of the place surprised Aiden. He’d expected something heavy with the perfume of candles and soap. Instead, espresso, spice, and freshness greeted him; along with a menagerie of bright spring woman’s stuff. The trinkets and garden paraphernalia and fluff threatened to choke him.
“Good morning, may I help you?”
He cut his gaze off Beth. Three attractive women smiled in front of him.
Which one should he answer?
“I know the feeling,” Rainn said. “They can take your breath away. And each one is as talented as she is lovely. Aiden Holt, Nebraska Game and Parks, meet the women of Frivolities.”
Aiden nodded, attempting to identify the qualifiers attached to the store’s co-owners. He’d consider the plethora of names later. For now, he drank in the sight of the other lovely woman seated in the small eating area, alone.
Beth.
Make that Beth Phillips. Todd, Littlefield, Phillips.
She’d come back to Phillips. And returned to her hometown.
He switched gears and associated her with the wolf in his mind. Lonesome, maybe. Alone for sure. He tried to wrap his mind around the oddity of seeing her amidst the hubbub of this happy family, compared to the sequestered cabin surrounded by wild.
She deserved to be surrounded by friends. Especially after his Google search came up with the name Littlefield.
Wouldn’t she be safer living inside city limits, with neighbors a minute away?
“So, what will it be?” the oldest redhead asked. Her name escaped him, but he recalled she wore Rainn’s ring on her left hand.
“Largest house, black, thanks.”
“Sure thing. Here or to go?” the same woman asked. He noted her name on the fancy quilted apron. Geneva.
A chair sat empty at Beth’s table. “Here.”
“Don’t let all the froufrou stuff get to you. You’ll learn to ignore it because the coffee and cheesecake are worth it,” Rainn said. He swung his mug in a circle. “Everybody, Aiden is here because a wolf may have been spotted in the area. Anyone hear about that?”
