(Un)bidden (25 page)

“You were in my bed without permission,” I said, getting out of bed.

He studied me while I straightened the sheets and blanket.

“You’re unusually upset.  Didn’t you sleep well?”

“I slept fine,” I said, turning to look at the clean clothes in my dresser.  I’d done laundry yesterday.  The men had finished the windows and planned a junk yard run again today to see if they could find anything they could repair and send with Winifred to sell.  I had absolutely nothing to do. Not only that, but as I’d anticipated, I saw very little of Mary.  Thomas checked in on me often but mostly stayed outside doing whatever he did.  I was lonely.

“Thomas,” I turned toward him, “I’m...bored.”

“You just lied.”

With a sigh, I sat on the bed.

“I’m lonely.”

He sat next to me, his arm barely touching mine, and looked down at his hands.

“Do you miss your family?”

“I try not to think about them,” I said.  Yet even saying that brought forth the image of my parents.  “But when I do, I miss them so much it hurts.”

“Will you go back to them?”

“No.  Never.  I love them too much.”

“I’ve been trying to figure out why you stay.  You have family out there and miss them.  Here you’ve been attack repeatedly, are resented by many, protected by a few...why stay?”

He turned and looked at me, his focused gaze unnerving me.  I kept my mouth shut.

“I think you’re hiding here because of what you can do,” he said after several moments of silence.

My heart felt as if it were trying to escape out of my throat.

He nudged me a little.

“None of that.  No one is going to make you leave because you’re different.  In fact, that’s a strong reason to let you stay.  You’re not just human.  You’re more.  Don’t be afraid to show that you can move things with your mind.”

Is that what he thought I’d done?  My stomach chose that moment to growl.

He cleared his throat and stood.

“I have a surprise for you.  But it means spending the morning with me.  I’ll feed you first,” he said.

I followed him downstairs and excused myself for a moment alone with the washbowl and bucket.  When I rejoined him, he had two bowls on the table, and I was surprised to see a carton of milk there, too.

“Milk?”

“It is.  Did you know after we wean, we typically don’t drink milk again?  It’s not necessary.  We seem to get what we need from the animals we eat.  Winifred believes it’s because in our other form, we tend to eat it all.”

Not a pleasant topic before breakfast.  He motioned for me to sit.

“So I was a bit surprised to learn humans drink milk their entire lives.  And tend to eat more vegetables than meat,” he said.

I looked down at my bowl and saw a familiar and well-missed sight.  Flakes with a touch of sugary coating.

“Cereal?” I asked in disbelief.  He nodded and handed me the milk.  I poured too quickly in my excitement and spilled a bit on the table.  I didn’t stop to wipe it up.  Instead, I grabbed my spoon and took a large bite.  The milk was tepid but it didn’t take away from the delicious taste.

“Mmm.”  It was the only sound I made for the next minute.  With an amused gleam in his eyes, Thomas sat across from me, watching as I devoured the cereal.

Even while drifting from town to town, I hadn’t managed such a simple treat.  It had been too long.  I slowed down to savor the last half, unsure how long it would be until I could have more.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” I asked when I noticed his bowl remained untouched.

He reached for the milk and neatly poured a measure into his bowl.  I watched him closely as he took his first bite.  His brow drew down and mouth puckered in distaste.

“You don’t like it?”  I couldn’t believe he’d prefer whole rabbit over sugared flakes.

He finished chewing and swallowed.

“It’s different.”

I grinned at him, took another bite of my cereal, and tried to figure out a comparison to the taste before I swallowed.

“Haven’t you ever had honey?  You’ve had to come across honey bees out there.”

“We’re wolves, not bears.”

My startled laugh almost lost me the bite of cereal in my mouth.  I quickly finished chewing.  “If you don’t want to finish it, I will.  Where did it come from?  Is there more?”

He pushed his bowl toward me.

“I have made a few trips to the junk yard, collecting those coins from the seats of old cars.  When I had enough, I went into town.”

“Like that?”  I eyed his bare chest.

He shook his head.

“Winifred warned me that I’d need a shirt and shoes.  Why would anyone want to wear those on their feet?”

“Shoes protect our feet.  Humans aren’t as sturdy as you are.”

“I’m learning,” he said.

“You are,” I agreed.  He was learning what it meant to be human, and I knew it was because he hadn’t given up hope of Claiming me.  It warmed me to know that he’d taken what I’d said seriously.

He waited patiently as I finished both bowls of cereal and while I washed them.  Then he brought me outside.

“There’s a lot of ground to cover.  May I carry you?”

The idea of Thomas carrying me in his arms made my insides go hot and cold in alternating flashes.  I nodded.  He stepped close, crowding me, and then bent and picked me up with ease.  I wrapped my arms around his shoulders.  He looked down at me, our faces not far apart.

“Hold on,” he said.  And then he ran.

Wind whipped in my face and stung my eyes.  I didn’t turn away from it, though.  I let go with my left hand, trusting him to keep me steady, and pushed the hair from my eyes.  Then I watched it all.

He wove between the trees with ease, lightly leaping over shrubs and bramble.  Animals quieted at his approach and scurried from his path when he neared.  I’d never felt so alive than those moments in his arms, beaten by the wind.

He ran like that for at least ten minutes.  When the trees started to thin, he wasn’t even winded.  He slowed to a walk as he stepped out into sunlight.  The trees before us had died with the expansion of the marsh and stood like large, dark sticks poked into the ground.  Birds flew overhead.

He’d wanted to show me the marsh?

He gently set me on my feet as I continued to look around.

“This way,” he said, taking my hand.

We skirted the edge of the marsh, the spongy ground giving just slightly with each step.  As we walked, making our way east, the weeds and reeds thinned and larger pools became visible.  The trees to our right suddenly disappeared into a large clearing.  At first, I thought it an extension of the marsh.  Then, I noticed the tall grass instead of reeds.

“Anton found this while trying to catch pheasants.  He was watching what they ate and checking if there was a food source we could gather and store for the winter...if we manage to cage any of them.”

The reminder of our attempts made me cringe, and I felt guilty that I hadn’t offered to help Anton again.

“We think this might be an old garden from the people who used to live here.”

Excited, I parted grass as I walked forward.  The grass outlined a very large and very weed filled garden.  Onions grew in a thick patch.  Wild, their green tops were much larger than their bulbs.  I found carrots growing in random areas toward the trees, away from the damp soil near the marsh.  There were some chewed on melons, a few small green striped pumpkins, stalks of multi-colored corn, vine beans, and many varieties of squash.

“This is amazing,” I said.  I wanted to start picking things.  Thomas seemed to read my mind.

“Before you pick anything, I want to show you one more thing.  It’s not useful like this.  Just pretty.”

That he’d described something as pretty piqued my interest.

We walked further east, away from the garden and back into the trees.  The cool damp air of the woods seemed to grow even cooler with each step.  In the break of branches, I caught a bright flash of light.  Moments later, I stepped out of the trees onto the lapping shoreline of a lake.  My shoes made divots in the sand as I walked to the water.  I could see the sandy bottom several feet out.

It was clean, untouched by man, and beautiful.  It stretched far enough that the trees on the opposite shore appeared tiny, less than a half an inch if I held up my fingers to measure.  I kicked off my shoes and rolled up my pant legs.

“It’ll be cold,” Thomas said, and it was.

While I stood in the water, fish swam close.  Small little things that made me smile.  The large one that darted after the little ones made my eyes round.

“Thomas,” I said in a quiet voice.  The big fish stopped moving, turned, and seemed to be contemplating my toes.

I heard the water rippled behind me then a low chuckle.  “It’s just a fish.”

“Do you eat fish?” I asked.  The better question would have been if he was fast enough to defend my toes.

“Do you?” he asked.

“Not lately.”

He dove forward.  It wasn’t a pretty, neat dive; it was a huge, clothes-soaking splash.  Then, he seemed to beat the surface.  I could barely see him with the amount of water flying in the air.  Suddenly, it stopped.

He stood before me with the fingers of one hand hooked in the gills and the other hand holding the tail of the fish.  It was more than shoulder width on Thomas.  He looked very proud of himself.

We stared at each other for several heartbeats.  I held myself still with my arms slightly out from my sides.  I was soaked.  Water dripped from my chin and ran into my eyes.

He burst out laughing.

*    *    *    *

Three large fish, onions, carrots, and rice baked in the oven while Thomas and I worked together to heat bathwater.  We stunk like fish.  He’d carried me home, and I had to carry the fish and onions.

In the silence, it struck me that since waking I hadn’t seen anyone else.

“Where is everyone?”

“I sent everyone out.  Mary and Gregory are in town, trying to determine what jobs are available, and what skills are required.  The rest are at the junk yard.  They wanted a break from cutting wood, and the man running the place was willing to pay them to break down some of the metal for recycling.  They’ll earn more than if they would have taken the metal.”

“I’m impressed.”

“I can’t claim responsibility for any of those ideas.  Winifred has been promoting jobs since you suggested it.”

“And they all went along with it?”

“Mostly.  There were a few grumbles at first, but they seem to be enjoying it now.”

He carried one of the steaming pots to the tub, dumped it, then came back to refill it.  I caught myself staring at the muscles in his back and arms as he worked the pump, and I quickly looked away.  My face was warm, my mouth a little dry, and my pulse too fast.

“I’m going to run and get some clean clothes,” I said, moving toward the main door.

“Hold on.  I’ll go too.”

I stopped by the door.  “There’s no need.”

“I need to grab some clothes.”  He started walking toward me.  I swallowed hard, staring once again at his naked chest.

What was wrong with me?  He’d carried me like that, and I hadn’t had so much of an issue at the time.  Granted I’d been too stunned by the experience of him running to notice him.  And on the way back, I’d been carrying dead fish.  There was nothing remotely romantic about dead fish.

“I can grab them for you,” I said, meeting his gaze.

He tilted his head and studied me.

“My kind tends to attack you when you’re alone.  I’d rather not leave you.”

“Okay.”  I turned and started to walk before my heating cheeks could give me away.

“Charlene, is something bothering you?”

“Yes, but I don’t want to talk about it.”

He chuckled.

“Honesty.  It’s refreshing.”

“Not really.  You’re just more of a pain when I lie.”

He laughed and waited in the hall as I grabbed clothes from my room.  When he went to his room, he left the door open.  It was the first time I looked inside.  There was nothing within except another pair of pants on the floor.

I stepped in further, looking around.

“It’s so...empty.  Someday, it won’t be like this,” I said, imagining what his people could do if they worked together.

“What do you see in your someday?” he asked, coming close.

I stared into the room, no longer really seeing it.

“This building and the other buildings will be brimming with life, an ever changing community of families.  Most will stay to raise their young in the protection of a safer environment.  These rooms will be their homes within our home.  And I see happiness.  A lot of laughter and friendship.  No more dying race or hiding in the woods.”

“I like what you see.  And someday, I know you’ll help make it all happen.”

“How do you know?”