Chapter 14
Hayleigh settled into one of the back jump seats, expecting to share the space with Ozzy, but they hadn’t been able to find a place to stay in Eucharist that would accept a dog.
Instead, she only vied for space with an impressive pile of books—reference texts covering topics related to the flora and fauna of the Pacific Northwest, as well as on ecosystems in general. Heavy reading for a chainsaw artist.
Arnauld nodded appreciatively at Hayleigh. “That cut is fire, Hayleigh. Brings out your whole essence.”
She touched a finger to her hair. “Does it?”
“Oh yeah,” said Arnauld with a confident nod.
She had never felt at odds with her old look. It fit with what she had been brought up to project; a path cut by her mother that had been simple to follow. But had there been another way she’d been meant to go?
Her phone pinged in her hands.
UNKNOWN: Did your location sharing get turned off? I haven’t been able to see where you’ve been for the last two days.
Well, that would be her mother. She didn’t share her location with anyone else and had turned it off before she’d left Bellevue, not wanting Luda to know anything about this little excursion she was on.
Of course, now that her smartphone was dead, there’d be no restoring it on even if she’d wanted to.
Must be a software error, she typed back. I’ll see if I can fix it. And then after a moment, she added, What’s the status of the trust money?
There was a longer-than-expected wait before the response came.
Your father would like you to start the move-in process before we begin the transfer.
What? How was she supposed to do that when she was headed in the opposite direction? With no plans to return for days?
I really need it now, she typed back.
Then bring a few things over so he knows you’re serious about this.
I can’t move anything for a few more days. Too busy.
Then you’ll have to wait a few more days.
Hayleigh fell back against the seat. She’d have to continue monitoring every cent, and if she wasn’t getting anything until she returned to Bellevue, she wouldn’t be able to pay Stephan back before she left Elk Ridge.
The debt would continue to hang between them, unpaid—a link even after it was time for a clean break.
She shoved the phone into her bag and pressed her cheek to the cool glass. The world beyond the window slid by in a smear of gray and white.
Arnauld’s voice cut in from the front. “Thanks for the ride. Wasn’t looking forward to driving all the way to Twisp and back on my own.”
“Why did you need to go back?” asked Hayleigh.
He covered his face in shame. “Forgot my moms’ present. I had this online artist do a watercolor of all of us, including their three terrible dogs.”
“Terrible dogs?”
“Oh yeah, three little yappy things they spoil all to hell. I almost left ’em out, but I knew it would make the holidays bright if they saw me ‘making an effort’ to ‘accept my brothers.’ ” He shook his head.
“Just to be clear—that’s not what’s happening here.
Just a holiday truce to make the moms happy.
You get any particularly good gifts this year, Stef? I mean, nothing’s gonna top mine, but…”
The big man shrugged. “Doing what I always do.”
“The photos,” said Arnauld with a nod. “Am I getting mine this year?”
“Don’t ruin the surprise.”
“Are you a photographer too?” asked Hayleigh.
“Ah, no.” His gaze slid to the rearview mirror to meet her eye. “I have this project…”
“Don’t let him sell it short,” said Arnauld. “Our boy uses his spells to protect endangered species.”
“Really?”
Stephan nodded into the mirror. “I spend time in the backcountry putting up more wards like what you saw at the festival. But I don’t have to hit everything. So I take requests for what to prioritize.”
“What did you ask him to protect?” asked Hayleigh, eyes drifting back to Arnauld.
“Wolverines. Which means this guy’s gotta trek out into the deep, deep snow to make me happy.” Arnauld looked back at Hayleigh, propping his chin on the back of the seat. “How about you? What wild-goose chase would you send him on?”
An image came to mind. A slick black shape sliding through metallic blue waves, her calf draped over her back—dreadfully still. “Does anyone have you do orcas?”
“No,” said Stephan, a gentle smile playing on his face as he continued to gaze at her through the rearview mirror. “That who comes to mind for you?”
“As soon as you asked, I couldn’t help but think about…
that one orca mom who keeps carrying around her babies after they die.
” A tense quiet settled over the truck. “Every time it happens, and I see her face, I wonder how it would feel. Especially if your whole species was close to dying out. Babies are our literal hope for the future, and it’s like she’s displaying the death of her hope for everyone to see. ”
“Well, damn,” said Arnauld, hand on his forehead. “Now I feel like I should change my answer.”
She swallowed a heavy knot in her throat. “I wish we could do something for them.”
“We can,” said Stephan, eyes sharpening until they glinted like cut sapphires.
“Many things, actually. We can bring down the dams, so the salmon come back. We could scale back noise pollution from shipping, stop dumping so many chemicals into the water, close the fish farms to keep non-natives from spreading disease…I could go on, but I think you get me. The problem’s a lack of will, not options. ”
“None of the things you mention are simple to fix,” said Hayleigh. “People need electricity, food, the goods foreign trade brings in…”
Stephan’s eyes moved away from her, back to the road. “Like I said, lack of will. Tahlequah—that’s her name, by the way—is just going to keep on parading around her dead hope until we get the message or can’t stand to look anymore.”
Hayleigh shrank back in her seat, crossing her arms and looking out the window. Even though he spoke broadly, it felt like his comment was directed straight at her. Hers was the lack of willpower he was looking down on. A moment later, his voice rumbled back. “I’ll do it, though.”
“Yeah?” she asked, sitting back up straight.
His eyes were back on her, though they should’ve been on the road. “I’ll get out to the Sound and put down some spells for the resident orcas.”
“Oh,” she said, and then, remembering this was a gift to her, added, “Thank you.”
It seemed she’d made it onto Stephan Midwinter’s Christmas—or Yule, rather—list.
He had a smile for her again already. “You’re welcome, Sunshine.”
How was it he moved on so quickly? She was used to disappointment that dragged on for days, expressed in every word and gesture; anger that stewed and bubbled over again and again, scalding her until countless acts of contrition restored things to normal.
Negative feelings moved through him as quick and easy as vapor—or at least, that was how it looked on the outside.
She suspected that his insides might have told a different story.