Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 142214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 711(@200wpm)___ 569(@250wpm)___ 474(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 711(@200wpm)___ 569(@250wpm)___ 474(@300wpm)
Giving his muscles a break, he set down the ax and carried the split wood to the woodshed. Despite how different the Wildes were, there was something to envy about their closeness.
Wren never complained about taking care of her father. She’d been a kid—just fifteen—and become responsible overnight. After Haven died, Wren took over cooking and shopping while Bodhi disappeared for days to sleep in the woods, alone with his grief. He used to tell Wren that’s where he felt the most connected to her mother.
Greyson understood. While he felt no presence of his mother anywhere, he took a great deal of peace from the woods. He enjoyed the silence and preferred keeping his distance from the rest of the world. Very few people knew where his cabin was located, since it didn’t come with a traditional address and all his mail was sent to the post office. Only a select few knew how to get there, which was exactly how he preferred it.
Maybe he and Bodhi were more alike than he wanted to admit.
When he finished with the wood for the day, he removed his work gloves and dragged the soles of his boots over the mat. Tonight, he’d head back to town and try to patch things up with—
Greyson stilled as something quiet squawked nearby. The leaves rustled in the breeze as he concentrated on the sounds of the wildlife creeping around him.
Another peep, and he turned to locate the source of the sound. Possibly a field mouse. At least he hoped that’s what it was.
Tracking the soft cry to the porch steps, he crouched low. “Please don’t be another—Fuck my life.”
Blue eyes and a tiny black face stared back at him from the shadows. It chirped the second they made eye contact.
“Where did you come from?” Were there more? He kneeled on the cold ground and stretched out his arm, but the little kitten clumsily stumbled away. He grabbed it by the scruff and rescued it from under the porch.
Drawing it to eye level, his stern tone demanded honesty as he asked, “Are you alone?”
The little rat didn’t answer.
It was a tiny thing, but not newborn. Its ears were up, and its eyes were open. Specks of dirt clung to its downy grey fur. When he cradled it in his hand, it barely filled his palm.
“You’re a complication I didn’t need today.”
The kitten mewed, and he carried it inside. The drill never changed. Find a box, grab an old towel, and give it a saucer of cream. The little guy wasn’t the most agile, but once he stumbled up to the milk and realized it was food, his little motor started to purr.
“You’re lucky I found you.” The poor thing wouldn’t have lasted one night once the temperature dropped. Greyson stared down at the dirty little rat. “Where’s your mother?”
The cat was occupied with the milk, so Grey went to the kitchen to call Wren. She answered on the first ring.
“Thank you for calling The Haven, where stillness begins. This is Wren. How may I help you find your reset today?”
“Hey.”
“Greyson?”
“Yeah.”
There was a long pause. “Hi.” She sounded unsure. “I’m glad you called.”
Was she? He frowned. “I, uh, have something for you.”
“You do?” The curiosity in her voice drove his mind to places he shouldn’t go, but he liked when she got inquisitive.
Maybe that was why he didn’t tell her what it was. “Yeah, you might want to get here soon.”
“I can be there in five minutes. Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine. See you in five.” He hung up the landline and stared at the retro receiver.
He should have told her it was a cat.
It wasn’t right to play games with her. That’s what got them into trouble the other day. If he didn’t want a repeat, he needed to be straight with her. No more wavering or mixed messages no matter how good her attention felt.
He picked up the phone and called her back. “Thank you for calling The Haven, where stillness begins. This is—”
“Wren.”
“Grey?”
“Yeah. I, uh, just wanted to be clear. It’s a cat.”
“Oh.” She sounded disappointed, but quickly recovered. “Is it one of ours?”
“I don’t think so. He’s small. I don’t recognize him.”
“It’s a male?”
Craning his neck over the box, he lifted the cat and took a quick peek at his undercarriage. “Yes. He’s dirty and probably needs a trip to the vet.”
“Is he injured?”
“No, just cold.”
“Okay. I’ll be right there. Keep him warm and give him some milk if you have it.”
“Already done.”
When he hung up the phone, he felt better about clearing up any mixed messaging. “Your new mom’s going to be here in a minute. Hang tight.”
It chirped at him, droplets of white sprinkled over its tiny muzzle.
Greyson lifted it to eye level. “You’re a mangy little thing.”
Despite how dirty it was, he held it as he waited for Wren. The little guy vibrated happily as he hunkered into the crevice of Greyson’s elbow. When several minutes passed and Wren still hadn’t arrived, he stopped pacing by the window.