Chapter 11
STACY
The wind howls high above the canyon. One of the strange things about living here at Croatoan is that the wind whistles and hums all day long.
It’s an endless white noise and takes some getting used to after the quiet of the cave.
I like it, though. It drowns out the small noises of living in a tribe.
Like the sex. Jesus, Maddie and Hassen are loud. I can hear them in my house, over and over again. Several times a night. Every night. On days like that, I hope for high wind because our little huts are awfully close together, and hearing that sort of thing makes me feel awkward…and lonely.
I miss Pashov. I miss him so much.
For the last few days, he’s been staying with the hunters at night.
He shows up every morning for breakfast, and I feed him and pamper him, and we talk, and it’s wonderful.
It’s almost like we’re mates again. He talks to me about his day, plays with Pacy, then kisses me senseless until he has to go out hunting.
He returns at night, and we share a dinner together, more kisses and cuddles…
And then he leaves to go stay with the other hunters.
I won’t lie, it’s really messing with my mind.
I don’t know what to do. Should I complain?
Is there something else going on that he doesn’t want me to know about?
Is it his nightmares? I worry about him.
I worry about him and I miss him fiercely when he’s gone.
Even though I like the hut I’m now in, it doesn’t quite feel like home when he’s not here.
Other than that, though, Croatoan is really dang nice.
Despite the abandoned city’s initial creepiness, I’m getting used to the place.
I like the stone walls because they keep the heat in.
I like the teepee top of the house because it lets the smoke out.
I love the little kitchen area that makes it easier to prepare food.
There’s no dishwasher or fridge, of course, but there’s a long stone counter and a basin I can use as a sink, and those are awesome.
Most of all, I love my toilet and the cushion-less stool that Pashov rigged over it so I don’t have to squat.
It’s the small things that make a house a home, and I never thought I’d be so dang happy over a toilet, but I am.
It’s a little odd being in a stand-alone house after living in a central cave system with the others for so long, but the lodge roof is coming along nicely, and we’ve taken to gathering there during the daytime.
There’s a pump near the pool that’s been repaired thanks to Harlow’s ingenuity, and now we can pump fresh, warm water instead of melting snow.
The pool itself feels warmer than the old one in our cave, but it also seems to be fed by a current of some kind, which makes it easy to do laundry at one end of the pool and not muddy the waters for the bathers at the other end.
There’s room enough for a fire and gatherings, and Pacy’s had several play-dates with Nora’s twins and Ariana’s fussy little Analay.
Even Asha’s been showing up to hang out and play with the babies, and I don’t mind her babysitting because it lets me do a bit of housework without having to watch Pacy constantly.
Really, everything is great. Sort of.
It’s just me and Pashov that can’t seem to get it together.
Have I somehow offended him? Or is he tired of being around us constantly?
Does he not want to be a father and a mate to me and he’s trying to let us off the hook slowly?
Maybe…maybe he just doesn’t want me anymore.
Maybe he’s no longer feeling the connection between us and is trying to extricate himself.
I don’t know, and it’s driving me crazy.
I climb out of my furs and pad over to Pacy’s basket. The floors are deliciously warm and I can actually go around barefoot in my own house. It’s nice. I pick the baby up and give him a kiss. “Good morning, little man.”
Someone coughs on the other side of the privacy screen over my doorway.
Is it Pashov? A flicker of annoyance moves through me—why won’t he enter?
It’s his home, too, even if he doesn’t want to be here.
Holding Pacy close, I move to the entrance and peer out.
The brief patch of skin I can see through the cracks near the door tells me it’s not Pashov, and I’m still in my sleep-tunic. Eep. “Who is it?”
“Harrec. May I come in?”
Pashov’s friend? I hurry back over to my pallet of furs to dress, setting Pacy down on the blankets. “Is something wrong?” I call out. While it hasn’t been unusual in the past for Harrec to come by and visit, it’s early. Is there something wrong with Pashov? My heart beats a little faster.
“I wanted to see if you had some of those tasty little not-potato cakes you used to make at the fire. I am tired of eating dried meat.”
I exhale with relief. It’s not a problem…
he’s just hungry and a bachelor. Harrec has no family to feed him.
“Give me two minutes to dress.” I bind my leaky breasts and fling on my favorite tunic and leggings.
Pacy seems restless, but not so irritated that I can’t start breakfast for someone else.
I head over to the screen and pull it back, inviting him in.
“Come inside. I need to stoke the fire.”
Harrec pats his flat belly and beams a smile at me. He’s wearing a fur wrap over his shoulders, and his long hair is tied into one thick braid that bounces against his arm as he moves inside. “You are a good female, Stay-see.”
“Thanks,” I say drily. “Keep an eye on Pacy, will you? I’ll get food started.” I don’t mind cooking for him or any other of the hunters that show up. I enjoy feeding people.
He bounds over to my furs, where Pacy is crawling around, and scoops the baby up.
I hear Pacy’s delighted giggle and smile to myself as I stoke the fire.
Harrec is one of the quirkier tribesmates.
He’s a hunter, but at the sight of his own blood?
Faints dead away. He’s got a weird sense of humor, but he’s also got a kind heart and likes kids.
“This little one has a messy loincloth,” Harrec announces. “Shall I change him?”
“You would be my hero if you did,” I say.
Once the fire is blazing again, I spear my last clod of dvisti dung and toss it on to keep things blazing, then head over to my little kitchen.
I pull out a small not-potato from my basket of roots and chop it with my bone knife.
I can’t stop thinking about Pashov, though.
A bolt of longing shoots through me, and I decide that I’ll make double the breakfast cakes for when he shows up.
If he shows up. Gosh, I really hope he shows up.
I glance over at Harrec and he’s changing the baby, making silly faces for him as he does. “Where’s Pashov this morning?”
Man, that did not sound casual at all. So much for keeping my cool.
“Oh, I am sure he will be here soon once he hears I am here.”
I glance over. That’s a weird thing to say. “Why’s that?”
“Because I am trying to make him jealous, of course.” He grins at me and swings Pacy into his arms. “What better way than to come and flirt with his mate and play with his kit?”
I chop a little faster, irritated. Is that what this is about? He’s come to flirt? “Hate to break it to you, but I am not interested.”
“Oh, I know this.” Harrec laughs, playing with Pacy some more. “You are my friend’s mate and I would never do such a thing. But he does not know this.”
What on earth is he talking about? He’s such an odd duck. I frown as I grab a bit of dried meat and mince it, but he says nothing else, just plays with Pacy. Maybe I misheard him.
I move toward the fire and put the little cakes on my scorched bone plate.
It’s not holding up well against the repeated use in the fire, but without my skillet, I don’t have another option.
No sooner does it start to sizzle than Pashov peeks in through the doorway.
“I smell cakes?” he asks, a delighted look on his face.
That delight changes to a thunderous frown when he sees Harrec.
“Good morning to you,” Harrec calls out, bouncing Pacy on his knee. “Enjoying our fine weather?”
Pashov enters and moves near the fire, his eyes narrow. “The weather is poor.”
“Is it?” I ask. “It’s so hard to tell here in the canyon.” The little city is insulated from the worst of the snows, and apparently they have been raging pretty hard lately. All we get is the occasional sprinkle of drifting snow and the incessant howling above.
Pashov nods, moving to sit next to the fire. I don’t miss that he’s sitting between myself and Harrec. I’m a little surprised—and irritated—by that. Does he truly think I would show any interest in his friend? All I want is him.
The first cake is ready, and I plate it, then offer it to Pashov. He looks surprised but gives me a grateful smile, then scarfs it down. Between bites, he glances over at Harrec. “Are you hunting today?”
“Of course.” Harrec blows a raspberry on Pacy’s belly. “I just wanted to get fed first.”
Pashov grunts and then looks over at me. “It is good. Thank you.”
I nod and feel like blushing a little, but I get to work on the next cake, slathering it with a bit of fat so it’ll cook up tasty.
They discuss the game in the area and the fact that no one has seen a metlak since we arrived.
I don’t mind if the metlaks are completely gone, and say so, though I do think about the mother with her little baby every now and then.
Eventually all the cakes are made and both hunters fed. Pacy starts to get fussy, and so I hand the last cake over to Pashov and put the baby to my breast.
Pashov sets his little plate down, watching me.
“Not hungry?” Harrec asks, reaching for the plate. “I will take that—”
Pashov slaps his hand away. “This is for Stay-see. She has not eaten.”
“Hmph,” Harrec says, an amused smile on his face.