Chapter 4
Russell
I look down at Wren, those pale, long fingers dug into his blond hair, and wonder why his pheromones give out so much discomfort.
So much fear. It’s a rotten sort of undertone to the otherwise lovely scent of licorice.
He’s going through something, that’s painfully clear, and he really doesn’t want to be here, but there’s no fighting Mother Nature right now.
There ain’t no other choice for him but to stay.
With a sigh, I rub the back of my neck and reach for the phone. I hope the lines still work. They go down or just plain stop working often, especially when the weather’s like this.
Wren glances up curiously from the ground when I start inputting the number.
I warm up fast, so I’m not even cold anymore, but he keeps trembling. Is that because he’s cold, or because he’s upset?
Why would he try to drive in these conditions, anyway?
“Darlin’?” Auntie Elmira’s voice sounds a little distant and crackly, but there’s a connection at least.
“Hey there.”
“Everything okay?” Instantly, her tone fills with worry.
I smile. “Everything’s fine. The blizzard is pretty intense already, huh? I thought it wasn’t supposed to be this bad until later. They say anythin’ new on TV?”
Wren stands up slowly, clearly interested in my attempt at maybe finding a way for him to leave. That isn’t what I’m doing—I’m just making sure I have all the information.
My sarge’s words ring in my head. ‘An uninformed soldier is a dead soldier.’ This isn’t a warzone, but it might as well be with how mad it is out there. The wrath of Mother Nature’s no joke.
“Only that it’s worse than expected. You really need to stay safe and warm, please. Do not let the fire go out, you hear me?”
“I won’t, don’t worry. Um… Wren—Mrs. Compton’s boy, I mean—is here with me.
” He perks up at the sound of his name like a dog, followed by a strangely intense expression flashing over his face when I mention his mother.
“He was fixin’ to leave, but the storm was too much.
His car got stuck. It was pretty dicey. He’s not getting out of here without a tow. ”
“My goodness, is he alright?”
“I think so.” Something else is clearly going on, though. “I’ll keep an eye on him. I invited him to stay here with me. Figured it was better this way. I’ve got plenty of food, wood, and a fire. And havin’ some company can’t hurt.”
There’s a thoughtful hum, briefly interrupted by some static. For a moment, I think I’ve lost the call because of how quiet she gets. “Are you sure that’s wise?” she asks, lowering her voice like Wren could overhear her.
I have to chuckle. “It’s real sweet when you worry.”
She knows I can take care of myself. Especially if she saw Wren with her own eyes. I could fight him off blindfolded and half asleep. And unfortunately, it seems like the only person he’s likely to hurt is himself.
“Alright, alright! You’re a big boy, I know.”
“Just wanted you to know what’s goin’ on. I’ll call back to check on—” The crackling, static sound returns for a moment before everything goes quiet. “Aunt Elmira? Hello?”
Damn. That’s it. The line’s dead.
I hang up and look at Wren, who stands a few steps away, still wracked with worry. I don’t like seeing that emotion on his face; or any face for that matter. He’s biting his lip, furrowing his brows, and nervously shifting on his feet.
What do I have to do to put him at ease?
“Like I said, there’s no way anyone’s gettin’ anywhere until this blizzard passes,” I say, pursing my lips with an apologetic frown.
He gulps, the cartilage in the center of his slim throat visible as it bobs in and out, and nods. He starts typing something on his phone, so I walk forward.
[All my stuff is in the car. My clothes, toiletries…]
I cross my arms over my chest. “You’re not goin’ near that thing.
It could slide off. I have things I can lend you, so don’t worry.
This’ll only be a couple of days,” I say.
He seems to accept it. Briefly, he studies me, his eyes darting across my upper body before they shoot back down, and he types again.
[Thanks for not letting me freeze to death.]
I smirk. There’s something akin to a smile on his face, too. It suits him much more than the frowning and upturned corners. It makes me wonder what he does in the city. He definitely has the aura of a tortured artist about him.
“I probably should’ve let you call home before the line went down. I’m sure you need to let your boss or your partner know you’re stuck here. Sorry about that.”
Wren widens his eyes briefly and quickly shakes his head.
[It’s fine. I’m self-employed, so I work from home. Freelance video editing.]
I raise my brows. “Oh, nice. That’s good, then.”
[My roommate might get worried, but it’ll be fine. I told her I’ll be here for only like two days. The phone doesn’t work? At all?]
Once again, worry flashes in his blue eyes.
“It could be only temporary, but my bet is the line went down completely. Everything’s old around here and falling apart, even without the bad weather.”
Is that an amused snort that comes out of him? I tilt my head, trying to catch more of it before he faces down at his phone.
[Just how I remember it.]
We both smile, and for the first time that I’ve seen him, yesterday included, he looks calm. Ish. At least until his eyes flicker from me to his phone and me again. He takes a while to type something, so when he shows me the message, I'm surprised to see it's only two short sentences.
[Selective mutism. Why I can’t talk.]
He waits for me to read it, and when I open my mouth, he quickly lifts his finger to type some more.
While I watch him tap away, a memory pulls me back to my last deployment.
I see the little girl in that village, hear the chaos and panic surrounding us as we hide in the hut with her and some other civilians.
I see her eyes. Wide, dark brown…empty. Even as the danger passes and the medics tend to the injured, she sits there motionless, staring blankly ahead.
They try talking to her. The other villagers try to get her to talk in their language. Nothing.
Her gaze follows what’s happening around her, thoughts swirling behind it, but she doesn’t say a word for the next five hours we spend there.
I still remember the way the field medic looked at me, shaking her head with pity clouding her expression. “There are things she went through that made her shut down, I think,” she whispered.
I blink, my heart galloping inside my chest until I realize where I am.
Oh, right. Wren. He’s showing me his phone again.
[I can speak. I want to. But sometimes it just won’t come out.
I physically can’t. It has to do with my anxiety disorder, it’s…
complicated. I don’t know when I’ll be able to talk again.
When I don’t have the energy to fight the stress, it gets worse.
Like today. Since I came here, really. It’s been a lot. I wasn’t trying to be rude.]
I smile at him. “‘Course. I didn’t think you were. It’s okay. Everybody has their reasons for bein’ the way they are. Thanks for lettin’ me know.”
I guess it is in my best interest to make this as stress-free and comfortable for him as I can, so that I can hear his voice again.
And for him not to be anxious anymore. Yeah, that’s a little more important, Russell.
Speaking of… “Would you like something to eat? You said there’s nothing in the house. Was the stuff you bought here all you’ve eaten the past two days?”
Embarrassment contorts his strong features briefly. He shrugs.
[I don’t eat much.]
“I can see that. Come on, I was fixin’ to cook something, anyway.”
Oh, I shouldn’t have said that, should I? Crap.
To avoid his reaction, I turn and wave for him to follow. He needs to get those wet clothes off and warm up by the fire, so I take him through the side door toward the stairs that lead to the upper level of the cabin.
It’s good that Wren’s staying here, I think. I wouldn’t want him to be stuck in that house all alone for days in this state. It’s painfully obvious he’s torn up about his mother and maybe something else, so maybe the gods sent him here to stay with me for a reason.
“This is where I live,” I say before I unlock the door. I stand aside for him to go in first, catching his faint smirk as he does. At least his pheromones don’t smell so tense anymore.
I shut the door and wait for him to look around.
I know it’s not much, especially compared to how most people live in the city.
It took even me a while to get used to this lifestyle again after coming back from the military.
But it’s the right way. The way humans ought to live.
Simple mountain living is hard and easy at once.
Few distractions to burden the mind can be a good thing…
as long as the mind isn’t already burdened with other crap.
A person doesn’t really need more than this—I do believe that.
A simple kitchen with a sink, stove, and a small fridge.
Wooden table with two chairs. A rugged but comfortable couch with a coffee table.
I made my bookcase myself from random pieces of wood lying around.
The bed I inherited from my parents. It has a nice, thick mattress and a bearskin as a throw that’s been in our family for generations.
Right next to it is the crackling fireplace with the photos of my family and my childhood dog, Lexie, on the mantel.
Besides that, the massive old wardrobe is the only other piece of furniture.
The luxury of an indoor bathroom with a toilet and a shower is behind the second of the two doors in the room.
There’s electricity, at least. Though…I’m not sure for how long. It doesn’t bother me, but it could bother him.