14. Wolves
Wolves
Helena
For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord , thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.
When I woke, the sound of rain against my window filled the room. The dreary morning left me unmotivated to rise, so I spent some time reading my Bible before beginning my day.
Out of the shower, I pull on some clothes and begin to brush my hair when I hear a gentle knock on my door. I know that little knock.
I unlock the door and open it to find Kiran on the other side. “Good morning.”
“Good morning Ms. Helena. Are you coming down for breakfast?” He smiles up at me.
“I’m not sure. Why do you ask?” I say, teasing him.
“Because we did something special.” He bounces on his toes.
“You did?” I act surprised. “Well then, let me braid my hair and I’ll be down. ”
“Okay.” He turns and hurries down the hall.
I finish with my hair and, as promised, walk downstairs. When I reach the kitchen, the singing begins. Eli lights the candles on a stack of French toast, with Marcel and Kiran sitting around the table.
Once the song is over, Kiran grins. “Make a wish and blow out the candles!”
I hold my braid to my shoulder as I lean down, contemplating my wish. There are a lot of things I could wish for, but only one will bring me peace. I close my eyes and I slowly exhale over the flames.
Help him remember.
The men clap, and Marcel hands me a fork as Eli places a cup of coffee by my plate. “I feel a little out of sorts being served like this.”
Marcel smiles. “It’s your birthday, Ms. Helena. Least we could do is give you a special breakfast.”
I nod. “Well, thank you, boys. It means a lot.”
Eli takes a sip of his coffee. “We appreciate all you’re doing here, Helena. Don’t think your good work goes unnoticed.”
“Thank you.” As I say it, I feel a light blush rise in my cheeks.
Kiran’s bright voice breaks the moment. “Pa said I don’t have to do lessons today. Can we work in the garden instead?”
“No lessons?” I ask, my brow knotted in confusion.
Eli shakes his head. “Today is sort of an odd day. Silas doesn’t make anyone work on this day every year, outside of the minimum for the animals.”
My eyes rise from my plate to meet Eli’s.
A tense, silent communication passes between us.
I lower my fork to my plate when a realization passes through the depths of my brain.
Eli simply smiles before turning to the boy.
“Kiran, you and Marcel should go gather the things for the garden. Ms. Helena and I will join you in a moment.”
“Yes, sir!” Kiran jumps from the table. Marcel glances at Eli with a concerned look. Eli simply tips his chin toward the door and Marcel pushes up from his chair, following Kiran outside. Once the door is shut, Eli focuses back on me.
“Where is Silas?” I ask quietly.
“Out in the pastures somewhere. We’ll be lucky to see him these next couple of days.”
The silence in the room stretches on longer than what is comfortable. I shift in my chair, not sure what to say.
Eli leans back, his eyes sharp and searching. “Funny, isn’t it? Your birthday being April twenty-sixth. The same day Silas lost his wife.”
We don't head back inside until after sundown.
I warm up dinner, then excuse myself to my room.
Right now, all I want is a hot shower and my Bible.
Our day in the garden was productive, getting compost tilled in and a few rows of seeds planted.
After we spoke, Eli remained near Kiran and Marcel stayed quiet.
Stripping off my clothes, I step into the steaming water. I pick up the bar of soap from the shelf, but it slips through my fingers. Inhaling a shaky breath, I refocus, and retrieve the soap from the shower floor. I wash, then stand under the water longer than I should.
My mind is a chaotic blend of relief and worry with the fact that Eli knows everything—the true reason I came to this place. He promised to keep my secret; I'm hoping he keeps his word. I try to let my muscles relax, letting the water beat down on my back.
Once the water starts to turn cold, I turn the knob to shut it off and grab my towel.
Stepping out, I tug on my nightgown and hang my towel on its hook.
I shuffle to the bed, slipping beneath the covers and opening my Bible to the Book of Jeremiah.
His story of repentance, faith, and restoration has always been an inspiration for me.
Let me bring that hope here, I pray silently. To this house. To Kiran. To Silas .
Kiran and I frequently read one or two passages during our lessons. The first time I laid a Bible in front of him, he asked what it was and told me he wasn’t ready for big chapter books. At six years old, the boy had never seen a Bible. Surely the doing of his father.
Night falls as I continue reading. I wet my thumb against my tongue, ready to turn the page, when a sound freezes me in place. A howl rises from the hills, severe and fractured, soon joined by others. It’s not the haunting serenade I’d come to expect from the wolves. This is chaos. Panic.
Throwing back the covers, I rush to the window. The cool air wraps around me as I push it shut, desperate to block out the dissonant cries. My hands tremble as I reach for the lock, but something catches my eye. A movement along the treeline.
Shadow plods at a slow gait as they emerge. The moon, full and bright, illuminates Silas as his hand covers his side.
He’s hurt.
A shiver traces down my spine as I yank the curtains closed and reach for my boots, pulling them on. I shove my arms through my flannel and grab my key, slipping it into my boot after locking my door.
I stop in my tracks as I hear Kiran’s door open. “Ms. Helena?”
I turn, walking to him. “Kiran, go back to bed, sweetheart.”
“I heard the wolves.”
“Just their night song,” I lie, running my fingers through his hair to calm him. “Back to bed, you’re safe.”
“Okay.”
He climbs back into his bed and snuggles beneath the quilt as I draw it over him. Pressing a kiss to his forehead, I tell him, “Everything is fine, sweet boy. Go back to sleep.”
I rise from the mattress and he turns to his side, pulling the blanket up around his shoulders. Quietly, I step out of the room, closing the door behind me.
I stammer down the stairs and out the back door, catching sight of Silas riding Shadow into the stables. My heavy footsteps announce my arrival as I run to the building .
“What are you doing here, Helena?” Silas’s voice rumbles low from Shadow’s stall.
I proceed slowly and cautiously, as if approaching a wild animal. “I heard the wolves. Then I saw you.”
“You keep careful watch over me, Ms. Toth.” His voice is deep and strained as I hear his feet shuffle on the floor.
“Someone should.”
A dark chuckle fills the air as I round the corner to see him standing by Shadow.
“You’re hurt.”
“It’s nothing,” he says, dismissing the blood staining his side.
“Liar.”
His jaw tightens. “Helena, go back to bed.”
I take one step toward him. “I won’t.”
“I can take care of myself. Now go.”
“You’re clearly doing a fine job,” I snap, closing the distance.
He blows out a tight breath. I see his face contort in pain as he tries to grab the damned rope. I reach out my hand to stop him.
“Let me do that. I’ll hang it in its place and then we’ll go up to the house.”
A simple nod is returned, so I hang the rope on its hook. At least it’s clean tonight. Which is more than I can say for Silas’s clothing. I cross to his healthy side.
“Put your arm around my shoulders.”
“No, thank you.”
“Mr. Hayes, stop being difficult,” I scold.
“Please let me walk alone. I can’t touch you, Helena.”
The words pierce through me. His voice is desperate and tired.
“Okay,” I breathe. “At least let me walk beside you.”
He doesn’t respond, but simply starts toward the house. We walk in silence through the back door.
“Go on up to your room. I’m going to get some things to patch you up.” I walk to the pantry, pulling out the first aid kit and some old towels. As I ready supplies, I hear him cross the room to the stairs, walking to his room. I pour a bowl of water and tuck everything else under my arm.
“Helena?” Eli’s voice is a gentle whisper. “Everything alright?”
I look towards him in the dimly lit room and shake my head. He nods in return.
“I heard the wolves. Are you going to tend to him?”
“I’m going to try my best.”
“Godspeed, Ms. Toth. Hold on a moment.” He walks to the office down the hall, returning with Silas’s bottle of gin and a glass. “He’ll be easier to handle with a little of this. I’ll wait down here. Let me know if he needs to be stitched up.”
“Is this a regular occurrence?” I pause before heading up the stairs, hands full.
“No, he always comes back in one piece. Not sure what this means in your world, but I would assume this isn’t normal.”
“You’d be right.”
I give him a tight smile and start up the stairs. Reaching the landing, I tread softly, ensuring I don't wake Kiran. When I get to Silas’s door, a slight shock crosses over me at the fact that he left it unlocked; that he’s letting me in.
As I enter, I notice Silas’s room is dimly lit by the bathroom light, creating long shadows that only deepen its austere simplicity.
The air is thick with the scent of soap and leather, and it wraps around me like a shroud.
My arms tremble slightly as I set the supplies on the nightstand, my grip tightening around the glass of gin.