7. Chapter SevenMINA
Chapter Seven
MINA
The stew’s rich aroma hit me like a tidal wave, pulling me back to evenings in this kitchen with Grandma. I stirred the pot, savoring the rhythm of the wooden spoon in my hand. But tonight felt different. There was a crackle of tension in the air, coming from the brooding presence behind me.
I stole a peek at Rory over my shoulder. His broad shoulders and bare chest were bent over the kitchen table, and I found myself drawn to the sight. But this time, his gaze seemed distant. Whatever weighed on him showed on his face. I paused, biting my lip. “Are you okay?”
He grunted in response. Alright then, back to caveman communication, I guess. I turned my attention back to the beef stew, giving it another slow stir as I considered this puzzle of a man. Beneath all that ruggedness, there was something else. Something deeper. I could sense it, even if he wasn’t ready to show it.
“Smells good,” he finally said.
“Thanks. It’s my grandmother’s recipe. She always said a hearty beef stew could cure just about anything.”
“Anything, huh?” There was a note of wistfulness in his tone that tugged at my heart.
I set the spoon down and turned to face him fully. He’s the strong, silent type. But if he was going to brood in my kitchen, he should at least say over two words. “Are you genuinely all right?”
His dark eyes met mine, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths. For a moment, I thought he might open up.
“It’s nothing,” he muttered, pushing away from the table to lean back in his chair. “Just... thinking.”
Now he stared up at the ceiling. His unexpected arrival, just when I needed him most, left me with nagging questions. And what had happened to Thomas?
“You know,” I said, cautiously. “My grandmother always said that talking things through helps you deal with them better.”
Rory closed his eyes briefly. The muscles in his shoulders tensed visibly. “Some burdens can’t be shared.”
The sadness in his voice made my chest ache. I took a step toward him, drawn by an inexplicable need to comfort this wounded bear of a man. “Maybe not. But sometimes just knowing you’re not alone can make all the difference.”
He turned then, his eyes searching my face. The vulnerability I saw there, just for a moment, took my breath away. “You’re a good person. Better than I deserve.” Before I could respond, he cleared his throat and nodded toward the stove. “Your stew’s about to boil over.”
I spun back to the pot, my cheeks red and something else I couldn’t quite put my finger on. While I adjusted the heat, I wondered if we were still talking about the stew at all. His words lingered in the air, heavy with unspoken meanings. When I glanced back at Rory, his gaze was fixed on some distant point beyond the window, lost in a world of his own troubles.
The silence stretched thin. “There’s something I need to tell you.” His voice was gruff, strained, like he was dragging the words out against their will.
This time, I turned the flame off before I set the spoon down and leaned against the counter, giving him my full attention. “Go ahead when you’re ready. I’m listening.”
He took a deep breath. “I’m under a curse that turned me into a turkey.”
A surprised laugh escaped me before I could stop it. “Oh, that’s funny. I think you’ve been reading too many fairy tales,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief. But the serious look on his face stopped me short, freezing the laughter in my throat.
Rory’s brow furrowed; his jaw clenched so hard I thought it might crack. He then tried to imitate a turkey’s gobble. The sound that came out was part grunt, part warble. It was charmingly silly.
I wanted to laugh again, but I couldn’t. Because underneath the absurdity of it all, the gobble he made... it sounded eerily like Thomas. “Who are you really?”
His gaze was raw, filled with something I couldn’t place that made my stomach tighten. The kitchen suddenly felt too small, too warm, like the walls were closing in around us.
“I know it sounds insane, but every word is true. I am Thomas.”
This was a joke. It had to be. But who would make up something so outrageous? And why did he look so desperate, so hurt? “I don’t understand. Are you saying you’re a turkey?”
He didn’t flinch, didn’t even blink. “A witch cursed me. Said I needed to learn humility and patience. That I’d be stuck in that form until someone cared for me as I am.”
The room was silent except for the ticking of the old clock on the wall. I thought of Thomas and how he’d appeared out of nowhere. How he’d acted so strangely, almost human. How he’d watched me with those deep, knowing eyes.
“No,” I said, shaking my head slowly. “ No . This is crazy. You’re crazy .”
“Maybe, but it’s the truth. I know things only Thomas would know. Like how you talk to the plants when you water them, or how you cry during those old romance movies your grandmother loved.”
A chill ran through me. He was right. Uncomfortably, impossibly right. “You could have spied on me,” I said, but even to my own ears the protest sounded flat.
“Why would I do that?” he shot back, a flash of anger cutting through his despondence. “Why would I go to all this trouble? Think about it. Why would a stranger show up at your door ass naked and tell you something this insane if it wasn’t true?”
I had no answer. My mind was a tangled mess. I didn’t want to believe him. Believing him meant accepting a world where curses and witches were real. Where the rugged man sitting shirtless in my kitchen had been a turkey just hours ago. “Tell me something only Thomas would know,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “Something you couldn’t have learned by watching me outside a window.”
He hesitated, his eyes flicking away from mine, then back. “The locket. The one with your grandparents’ picture in it. You thought you lost it, but it’s under the cushion of the rocking chair on the porch.”
My hand went to my heart. I remembered searching the entire house, tearing through drawers and closets, sobbing like a child when I couldn’t find it. I’d given up hope days ago.
“How did you know?”
“I saw it fall from your neck when you were feeding me game-bird scratch. You were so busy you didn’t notice.”
I sank against the counter; the strength draining from my legs. If the locket was there, then everything he said...
“Listen, I’m not asking you to believe me all at once.”
“The stew will get cold,” I said, turning back to the stove. A moment later, I set a steaming bowl in front of Rory, then poured us each a mug of hot spiced apple cider. I sat across from him at the table, my hands wrapped around the mug as I watched the steam curl upwards. “Can you tell me more?”
“A couple of years back, I disappeared in these mountains to live on the land and exist. But being trapped in a turkey’s body... it’s a cruel lesson in humility. Something else entirely than what I had wanted. Life went on regardless, and I couldn’t do anything but try to survive. It’s a shitty kind of torture.”
I could only imagine it. Rory as a turkey, watching from the sidelines as families laughed and talked, as friends shared meals and made memories. The image tugged at my heartstrings.
There was a raw honesty in his gaze that made it impossible to look away. Even though his story felt unreal, it still touched me. Every word he said felt like it came from a painful place.
“How long have you been cursed?” I said, though part of me feared the answer.
“Longer than I’d thought possible to endure. Several seasons have come and gone. Enough time for me to miss what it felt like to walk on two legs or to speak with a human voice. Enough time to regret a lot of things.”
The raw way Rory spoke opened something in me. A floodgate of memories I’d kept locked away. “This farmhouse is all I have now,” I said, gesturing to the weathered walls around us. “Everyone tells me to sell it and move on, but it’s been in my family for generations. My grandmother...”
I paused, swallowing hard against the lump in my throat. “She was the heart of this place, and I can’t imagine parting from all these memories.”
Rory’s attention was on me completely. Whenever I tried to tell Todd about my grandmother, he seemed more interested in his phone than in what I had to say. The realization sent a pang through my chest. Todd never loved me. I was the only one trying to make our relationship work.
“Tell me about her,” Rory said.
So, I did. I told him about summer evenings spent on the porch, shelling peas and listening to Grandma’s stories. About the secret ingredient in her apple pie that made it the talk of the Maple Ridge Marketplace. About the way she’d hum off-key as she worked, filling the house with a melody of love and contentment.
“When she passed,” I said, my voice catching, “I inherited more than just this house. I inherited her legacy, her dreams for this land.”
Rory nodded. “It’s a lot to shoulder alone.”
“It is,” I said, surprised it was so easy to talk to him. “Some days, I wonder if I’m cut out for it. If I can make it thrive the way she always wanted.”
“There are ways to bring the land back,” Rory said. “Farming methods that could bring this place back to life without changing what makes it special.”
I felt a smile tugging at my lips. “Oh, really?”
“Start off by rotating your crops to enrich the soil naturally. Or introduce beehives to boost pollination. We could even set up a small greenhouse for year-round produce.”
We? The word sat rent-free in my mind, sending a flutter through my stomach.
The afternoon light faded to evening. Listening to Rory sparked a change in me. For the first time since inheriting this place, a spark of hope and possibility sparked within me. His presence here could mean more than casual company. It could be about support, partnership, or even something deeper.
Rory savored the last of his cider, his rough hands cradling the mug with surprising gentleness.
“You must be freezing. Why don’t you take a hot shower? It’ll help you warm up.”
He set his mug down slowly. His gaze met mine with an intensity that made my breath catch. “Maybe I should,” he said, though he made no move to get up. It was as if he didn’t want to leave this moment we’d created.
“There are clean towels in the bathroom.”
Rory stood, stretching his muscular frame.
A part of me wished for that blanket to fall clean off.
“Then I’ll take you up on the offer.” He started down the hall, paused, and turned back, a sly smirk on his face. “Do your best to not peek.”
A rush of heat flooded my cheeks. “I... Why would I?” I stammered, but he was already out of earshot, leaving me to stew in my own emotions.
The sound of water running filled the house, and I cleared the table slowly, my mind a whirl of thoughts.
Could I really believe his story? Every rational part of me screamed no, but my heart told a different tale. If what he said was true, then he had already been a part of my life for longer than I realized. The thought both warmed and scared me.
The shower shut off, and after a while, Rory emerged from the bathroom, steam billowing around him. He had a large towel wrapped loosely around his waist, his hairy chest still glistening with droplets of water. My eyes widened, and I tried— really tried —to look away, but my gaze kept flicking back to him like a moth to a flame.
“Feel better?” I said, my voice tight.
Rory ran a hand through his damp hair, the motion causing his towel to shift slightly. “Much. Though a bed would do wonders.”
He leaned against the doorframe, his posture relaxed, but his gaze was on me.
My throat tightened, and my mouth went dry. “I... I can find you some clothes. Maybe something of Todd’s.” The mention of Todd sent a sickening pang through me.
Rory shrugged. “Only if you want me to wear them.”
“Give me a minute. I’ll see what I can find,” I said, spinning away.
A thousand thoughts collided in my head. No, I didn’t want to see Rory in Todd’s clothes. What’s the point of me keeping Todd’s stuff? A tiny part of me kept thinking maybe it was all a nightmare. But it was real, and honestly, I was over him.
We were done, and he had no claim to my life anymore. Especially when Rory made me feel so much more alive than that asshole ever did.
In the bedroom, I rummaged through the closet and found the bag filled with some of Todd’s clothes. Slim jeans, polo shirts, blazers. Now that I think about it, Todd’s clothing wouldn’t fit Rory’s muscular frame. I hurriedly stuffed the clothes back into the bag, then dragged it over to the bedroom window. Moments later, I tossed it outside.
After holding Todd’s things in my hands, I realized I felt nothing. No nostalgia, no sadness. Just a strange, empty clarity.
Turning back to the hallway, I walked to the hall closet. After a few minutes of searching inside, I found a few flannel shirts, worn jeans, a couple of t-shirts. Grandma had collected them from the neighbors for a charity yard sale before she passed away. I closed my eyes and exhaled. She never had time to sell them.
I selected a set that looked large enough and walked back to the kitchen, where Rory still stood. He looked like a statue come to life, every angle and plane of his body sculpted with rugged precision.
“Here, you go,” I said, handing him the clothes. Our fingers brushed, and a spark shot through me, electric and undeniable. “Hopefully, these will fit. Grandmother got them from—”
“Thanks,” he said, not letting me finish. “I appreciate it.”
“You can sleep on the couch. It converts into a bed so it’s comfortable enough.”
Rory chuckled. “Compared to sitting in a tree all night? It’ll be heaven.”
I nodded, biting my lip. There was so much more I wanted to say, to ask, but the weight of the day had left me drained. “Then I’ll leave you to your privacy.”
“Mina.”
I turned back to face him, taking in the full measure of the man who claimed to be both Rory and Thomas. The grizzled giant who, against all odds, made my insides flip-flop.
He arched an eyebrow. “If I hear bear-like growls coming from your room tonight, I’m assuming you’re snoring again, not a bear who wandered in.”
My jaw dropped to the floor. “I do not snore.”
Rory’s grin widened. “Sure, and I wasn’t a turkey this morning. Sleep tight.”
That cheeky... arrogant... Ugh! He made me want to throw a sandal at him. But I’m glad he could crack a joke after everything. I shook my head with a smile. “Good night.”
Leaving him, I headed back to my room. Once inside, I closed the door gently and leaned my back against it. There was something forming between us. A kind of connection I never felt with Todd. And despite everything, I wanted to boost that spark, to see where it might lead.