Chapter 2 #2
Shadow settles his head against the window as we turn onto the main road.
I rehearse my apology to Eleanor, the postmistress who’s watched me sprint through the doors seconds before closing too many times to count.
Maybe I should bring her cookies next time as a peace offering. Would that be a bribe?
The truck’s engine groans as we climb a steep section of road, and I pat the dashboard again in encouragement. “Almost there, I promise.”
Twenty-three minutes. We’ll make it.
We always do.
The small town of Aspen Ridge comes into view as I round the final bend in the road.
Main Street encompasses a handful of buildings clustered together against the backdrop of the mountains.
A general store, the town library, Nancy’s Diner, a gas station, and the post office—a white clapboard building that hasn’t changed in eighty years.
I pull into a space in front with five minutes to spare.
Shadow lifts his head from the passenger window. His harness shifts as he stretches, the reinforced straps designed for his impressive frame.
“Come on, baby.”
I clip his lead to it before we climb out.
Envelopes in hand, we head toward the entrance, Shadow padding beside me.
He’s a hundred and eighty pounds of pure wolf, and even though people have gotten somewhat used to seeing us together, he still draws stares.
The harness and leash can’t disguise his undeniable wildness.
I’m reaching for the door handle when it swings open toward me. I jerk back, startled, nearly dropping my envelopes as a tall figure emerges from inside. My breath catches as I look up—way up—into the most intense pair of blue-gray eyes I’ve ever seen.
Whoa!
The man is imposing, at least six-foot-something, with broad shoulders that seem to fill the doorway. Everything about him radiates an intensity that makes me want to step further back, but I find myself frozen, caught in that penetrating gaze.
“I’m sor—”
An unmistakable growl rumbles from deep within Shadow’s chest, cutting off my smile and apology. He shifts forward, positioning himself between me and this stranger, his energy coiling with readiness.
“Easy, boy.” My hand drops to his head. I grasp his harness and pull him back. When I look up again, the man is already walking across the street, his back to me. No apology for almost running me over. He doesn’t acknowledge me at all.
Well, that was just rude.
Shadow’s hackles settle as the distance between us increases, though his ears remain pricked forward, tracking the stranger’s movement.
I shake my head and push through the door, the little bell above it announcing our arrival. The post office is small, just a service counter at the back and a wall of brass mailboxes to the left. Eleanor Jenkins looks up from behind the counter, her rhinestone-rimmed glasses perched on her nose.
At seventy-eight, Eleanor, who still dyes her hair jet black, has been running the post office since before I was born.
She’s all up in everyone’s business and makes it her mission to keep tabs on the entire town, but Shadow still makes her nervous despite our frequent visits.
I can’t blame her. He’s intimidating even when he’s being his sweetest self.
“Cutting it close as usual, aren’t you, Luna?” She smiles as she sees me, but stiffens when she spots Shadow.
“Hi, Eleanor.” We approach the counter. The tension that had gripped Shadow’s body moments ago has melted away with the stranger’s departure, leaving him alert but calm. “Eagle with a compound fracture came in this morning. Please tell me I’m not too late.”
“You’re in luck. Mail truck is behind schedule.” She takes my envelopes. “What’s this? More animal mysteries for the lab coats in Denver?”
I push a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “No. Grant applications. I have to resubmit every two years to keep our state and federal funding.”
“Frank, honey, add this to the outgoing.” She stamps the first one.
A grunt comes from behind the mail slots.
A few inches shorter than Eleanor, Frank Jenkins, a round, balding man with graying hair around the sides, walks out of the back with a grin on his face.
Unlike his wife, Frank’s always been unfazed by Shadow because he grew up hunting and understands predators.
“Hi, Luna. Still running that sanctuary all by your lonesome?”
“I have Maren. She’s worth ten regular people.”
Frank pushes the mail trolley toward the back door just as Eleanor’s eyes light up with that familiar gleam, signaling incoming gossip. “Oh my goodness, you just missed meeting our newest resident! Did you see that tall, dark, handsome man leaving as you came in?”
“You mean the rude one who nearly knocked me over and didn’t even apologize?”
Eleanor gasps, her hand on her throat as if reaching for nonexistent pearls. “Honey, that was Damien Wolfe! Billionaire tech mogul and Denver’s most eligible bachelor. Did you see those sexy little silver streaks at his temples?”
“Can’t say I did.”
I couldn’t make it past those penetrating eyes.
“He bought the old Morrison estate a couple of months back.”
The Morrison estate. My stomach does a little flip.
Five hundred isolated acres bordering the national forest, just east of my sanctuary.
Vacant for over forty years after the eldest son was convicted for the disappearance and death of a handful of local girls.
I’ve always loved the wild, untouched property, despite its morbid history.
“I heard someone bought it, but I haven’t seen anyone.”
“How could you miss him?” Eleanor fans herself with one of my envelopes. “That man is a walking invitation to sin. And that voice? It’s like dark chocolate. Smooth enough to make a nun reconsider her vows.”
I choke out a laugh at her gushing. “Eleanor!”
“I can hear you,” comes Frank’s dry voice from behind her.
“Oh, hush, Frank.” She stamps my second envelope. “I know there’s some distance between your places, but how did you not notice him walking out of here? The man takes up a lot of space.”
“You know Shadow doesn’t like most men. He got a little growly. Besides, he seemed kind of abrupt.”
“He’s a billionaire. They’re always abrupt, mysterious types. But I’ll tell ya, if I were thirty years younger, I’d climb that man like a tree.”
“Still hearing everything,” Frank calls, his voice laced with amusement.
Eleanor brushes him off with a wave. “You know you’re the only man for me, Frank.
But I’m old, not blind.” She leans across the counter, her voice dropping to a near whisper.
“Let me tell you something, Luna Foster—a rich, brooding, handsome man like that doesn’t come along every day.
If I were you, I’d march right over there and welcome him to the neighborhood properly. ”
“We live in the middle of nowhere, Eleanor. He, Old Man Henderson, and I are the entire neighborhood. And I’m not in the market for—”
“Nonsense! You’re young, you’re beautiful, you’re smart, and you work too hard. A little romance wouldn’t kill you.”
Frank appears again. “Eleanor, leave the poor girl alone. Not everyone needs your matchmaking services.”
“Frank Jenkins, romance makes life worth living! Look at us. Fifty-four years of marriage and still going strong.”
“That’s because I learned when to keep my mouth shut.”
“You mean unlike now.”
I can’t help but smile at their banter and obvious adoration for each other. “I should get back. Maren’s handling evening meds, and I’ve left her alone too long already.”
“I mean it, sweetie.” Eleanor gives me a pointed look as she runs my credit card. “You’re so busy caring for all those animals, you have no time for yourself. Taking some time for a romance with a man who looks like he stepped out of a magazine would be good for you.”
“I’ll add it to my to-do list. Right after vaccinating foxes and before monthly inventory.”
Eleanor’s laughter drifts after us as Shadow and I push through the door.
The sun hovers over the horizon now, bleeding orange and pink across the sky, while a light breeze carries the promise of night.
We make our way toward my truck, Shadow’s tail swishing as he sniffs at interesting scents along the sidewalk until it goes still.
His ears prick forward, that subtle shift in posture that I’ve learned to read like a book. He’s alert. Focused on something my human senses haven’t detected yet.
I slow my steps. “What is it, baby?”
A prickling sensation starts at the nape of my neck and crawls down my spine. It starts small, a whisper of awareness, then spreads until my entire body feels like it’s under a microscope.
I’m being watched.
I roll my shoulders, trying to shake off the feeling, telling myself I’m being paranoid.
This is Aspen Ridge, for crying out loud.
The most exciting thing that happens here is when Nancy burns a batch of her famous apple pie.
But the crawling sensation persists, growing stronger with each step toward my truck.
My gaze sweeps the street, trying to find the origin.
Nothing seems out of place, except for the sleek black Range Rover parked at the curb in front of the diner, its dark-tinted windows making it impossible to see inside.
My gaze scans the buildings and the shadowy alleys across the street, but nothing catches my eye.
Shadow’s body trembles with an almost silent growl. He shifts closer to me, his massive frame tense and ready. He feels it too, whatever this is.
“Easy.”
The sensation of being watched lingers as I open Shadow’s door, making me more aware of my movements than usual.
It’s not frightening, just… uncomfortable.
Like having an itch I can’t quite scratch.
I glance around once more, but the street is still empty except for a few parked cars and the stillness of late afternoon.
I climb into the driver’s seat, and Shadow settles beside me with a soft huff. Whatever had caught his attention seems to have passed.
As I back onto the road, I glimpse a tall figure emerging from the diner in my rearview mirror. Even from this distance, I recognize that imposing silhouette as the one that almost ran into me earlier. He was inside Nancy’s the entire time.
Could he have been watching me?
I shake my head, shrugging off the lingering unease. Maren’s going to have a field day when I tell her about our new neighbor.
As I pass the Morrison property, I wonder what drove Damien Wolfe to buy it. The sprawling Victorian mansion sits on the mountain beyond my property line, abandoned for decades. I explored its overgrown grounds as a child, before the stories about the family’s dark history made it a place to avoid.
Now, out of nowhere, it has a new owner. A rude, brooding one who makes Eleanor gush like a teenager with her first crush.
I’m pulling into my long driveway when I remember I forgot to stop at Hansen’s for supplies.
“Damn it.” I glance at the clock on my dashboard. The store will be closed by the time I get back to town. I reach over and scratch behind Shadow’s ears. “We’ll just have to make another trip tomorrow, won’t we?”
I pull up next to Maren’s SUV and climb out, unclipping Shadow’s harness as he jumps down.
“Go on.” I give him a gentle pat on his flank. “Take your before-dinner run. Work off some of that energy.”
He takes off behind the house, disappearing into the trees without a sound. He’ll be back in twenty minutes, tired and ready for dinner.
In the meantime, I head inside to help Maren with the evening rounds.