Chapter 13 Chloe
CHLOE
The lavender wasn't cooperating.
Chloe stared at the bundle in her hands, trying to remember what she'd been doing with it.
Drying rack. She'd been heading to the drying rack.
Except somehow she'd ended up standing in the middle of Freya's workroom, holding dead lavender and thinking about the way Corin's hand had felt wrapped around her wrist.
That had been two days ago. She needed to stop thinking about it.
"You've been holding that lavender for five minutes."
Chloe startled. Freya stood in the doorway, arms crossed, copper hair catching the afternoon light from the window. Her green eyes held the particular gleam that meant she'd noticed something and wasn't planning to let it go.
"I was just... organizing my thoughts."
"While staring at dried flowers?"
"It's a process."
Freya crossed to the worktable and began sorting through the morning's harvest, her movements easy and practiced. "You've been distracted all day. Yesterday too. Want to tell me what's going on?"
Chloe set the lavender down, buying herself time. She didn't know how to explain what was going on because she didn't understand it herself.
"It's nothing."
"Try again."
"It's complicated."
"Most interesting things are." Freya glanced up, her expression softening. "Is it the whispers? Because I heard what those women said while over at the Mercantile yesterday, and I want you to know that most people in this town aren't that small-minded."
"It's not the whispers." Chloe hesitated. "Not directly, anyway."
Freya raised an eyebrow and waited.
"It's Corin."
Her eyebrow arched hire and to Chloe it looked as those a small grin had started to tug at the corner of her friend’s mouth. "What about him?"
Chloe moved to the window, studying the gray afternoon. The snow from two days ago had mostly melted, leaving the world slick and frozen in slush. She could see the corner of the herb garden from here, the beds they'd worked so hard to save.
"He's been different lately," she said finally. "Since we started working together on the land problem."
"Different how?"
"I don't have any idea how to describe it." She turned back to face Freya, frustration bleeding into her voice. "He's more... present. Attentive. Like he's actually seeing me instead of just tolerating my help."
"And that's a bad thing?"
"No. That's the problem." Chloe sank onto the stool by the worktable. "It's not bad. It's actually... nice. But it's confusing."
Freya had stopped sorting herbs. Her full attention was on Chloe now, and there was something in her gaze that made Chloe want to squirm.
"Tell me what happened."
"We were at his orchard. There was ice, and I slipped, and he caught me." Chloe's fingers drifted unconsciously to her wrist. "My glove had torn, so when he grabbed me, it was skin to skin."
"And?"
"And I felt something. This... heat. Like electricity, but warm. And he got this look on his face, like..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "I don't know. I've never seen him look like that before."
Freya was very still. "What did he do after?"
"He let go and stepped back. Then he started asking me questions about druids. Whether I might be causing the land sickness without realizing it."
"He what?"
"I know." Chloe's laugh was humorless. "One second he's looking at me like I'm the most important thing in the room, and the next he's interrogating me about my bloodline. I don't understand him."
"What has he been like since then?"
Chloe thought about this morning. She'd almost talked herself out of going to the orchard, convinced that things would be awkward after the way she'd left. But Corin had been waiting at the gate as always, and when he'd seen her, something had eased.
He'd been different. Not distant like that afternoon.
Not cold or clinical. Instead, he'd been.
.. attentive. Present in a way he hadn't been before.
He'd walked closer to her as they checked the beds, not touching but near enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from his body.
He'd asked about her morning, about whether she'd slept well, about whether she needed anything from town.
Small things. Nothing that crossed any lines. But the cumulative effect had left her feeling off-balance.
"He's been nicer," Chloe said slowly. "More careful. Like he's paying attention to everything I do and say."
"That sounds like a good thing."
"It should be." Chloe rubbed her temples. "But I can't figure out why. One day he's asking if I'm accidentally poisoning his land, and the next he's bringing me coffee without me asking and making sure I have the warmest spot by the heater. It doesn't make sense."
Freya's mouth curved into a full small smile. "Doesn't it?"
"No. It doesn't." Chloe met her eyes, something defensive rising in her chest. "He's not interested in me.
Not like that. We've been working together for a while and known each other longer, and he's always been polite but distant.
This is probably just... guilt. Or pity.
He felt bad for questioning me, so now he's overcompensating. "
"Is that what you think is happening?"
"What else could it be?"
Freya set down the herbs she'd been holding and leaned against the worktable, her expression thoughtful. "Can I tell you something about bear shifters?"
Chloe nodded warily.
"They're not like wolves or cats. Wolves are pack animals.
They wear their emotions openly, bond quickly, fight for dominance.
Cats are solitary, mysterious, hard to read.
" Freya's voice had taken on the cadence of someone sharing old knowledge.
"Bears are different. They're steady. Patient.
They take their time with things that matter. "
"What does that have to do with Corin?"
"Everything." Freya's green eyes held hers. "Bears don't rush into things, Chloe. They watch. They wait. They make sure before they act. And when they do finally commit to something, whether it's a home or a hive or a person, they commit completely."
Chloe's mouth had gone dry. "You're saying..."
"I'm not saying anything." Freya's smile was gentle. "I'm just telling you about bears."
"Freya."
"What?"
"There's no way Corin is interested in me like that. He's never shown any sign of it. He barely talks to me half the time."
"He barely talks to anyone. That's just Corin.
" Freya picked up the herbs again, resuming her sorting.
"But I've noticed a few things over the past couple weeks.
The way he watches you when you're not looking.
The way he says your name. The fact that he invited you to work with him every day when he's never let anyone help with his orchard before. "
"That's just because of the land sickness."
"Oh, ok," she replied sarcastically.
Chloe opened her mouth to argue, then closed it again. She didn't have a good response.
"Bears love deep," Freya said quietly. "When they choose someone, they choose them completely.
It's not casual for them. It's not temporary.
" She glanced up, her expression serious now.
"That's not a bad thing, but it's not a small thing either.
If Corin is paying attention to you the way you're describing, you should know what that might mean. "
"You're wrong."
"Maybe." Freya shrugged. "Or maybe you're just not ready to see it yet."
Chloe didn't answer. Her thoughts were tangled, pulling her in directions she wasn't prepared to go.
Corin couldn't be interested in her. They'd spent time together, yes. They'd grown closer through the work, shared information about the land sickness, developed something that felt almost like friendship. But that was all it was. All it could be.
He probably felt guilty for the way he'd questioned her. He probably pitied her, the outsider with the strange blood and the whispers following her everywhere she went. That's why he was being attentive. That's why he was watching her, bringing her coffee, making sure she was comfortable.
Pity. Guilt. Nothing more.
Because if it was more, if Freya was right about any of it, then Chloe was in serious trouble.
She'd spent too long convincing herself that Corin Vane was out of her reach.
If she let herself believe something else, if she let herself hope, she'd only end up hurt when she was proven wrong.
She'd been there before. She knew how that story ended.
"I should finish with the lavender," she said, standing abruptly.
Freya nodded. "Take your time. There's no rush."
Chloe gathered the dried bundle and headed for the drying rack, her hands steadier than her thoughts. She hung the lavender with careful precision, counting each stem, focusing on the simple repetitive motion.
She wasn't going to think about Corin. Wasn't going to read meaning into kindness or hope into attention.
They were working together to solve a problem. That was all.