Chapter Seven
In Which Many Things Shift
Tasia knew Mitch’s advice about bunnies was tongue-in-cheek, but it made her watch Bianca/Bunny a little closer during tea the following week. The self-appointed social queen always looked like she knew something no one else did, and it amused her. She also wasn’t above inciting strife.
Until Tasia started her deliberate observation of Bunny, she had believed that Claudia was clumsy in addition to being shy. Now she knew better.
Two days after surviving her furry bunny encounter, Tasia watched the queen bee Bunny place one intentional foot on Claudia’s hem.
When the poor girl moved to stand, she stumbled into the tea table.
The plates and cups were empty by that time, but everything rattled.
Then the other girls scoffed and made comments.
The next day, Bunny slid a teaspoon handle under the base of Claudia’s saucer. Her movements were subtle, and the slant wasn’t readily apparent until Claudia tried to set her teacup down and splashed a fair amount on the table. More remarks and eyerolls followed.
Despite the fact that interfering had gotten her banished from her home in the first place, Tasia couldn’t help herself.
The following day, she managed to keep Claudia from sitting next to Bunny by asking the mousy girl to help carry the final tray from the kitchen counter.
That prevented Claudia from claiming a spot directly next to Bunny, but sitting across from her was still too close to keep the snide comments at bay.
And when the girls were leaving, Bunny made sure that Nomiki and Claudia were the first ones out the door.
As Claudia moved through the door, Bunny reached out and hooked the other girl’s shawl on a loose nail in the jamb.
She managed the thing while bidding Pagona an elaborate goodbye with gushing compliments and air kisses.
If Tasia hadn’t been vigilant in her spying, she wouldn’t have noticed the sleight of hand.
The others didn’t notice the cause, but everyone saw Claudia jerk backwards as her shawl failed to come with her.
Tasia frowned at the instigator as Bunny offered false sympathy and real contempt while Claudia and Nomiki fussed over the snag.
“Why is your face scrunchy?” Chara asked.
Tasia slapped on a smile and looked away from the young ladies at the door. “Do you want to play the silly face game?”
That distracted the toddler and kept her entertained for several minutes.
Tasia stewed over the situation through dinner and the washing-up.
She couldn’t see a way to help Claudia, and questioned whether it was her place.
The last time she had interfered, she had been kicked out of her home.
Her savings were growing every week. Not enough, however, to establish herself somewhere else.
Chara caught a mild cold, and the rest of the week was spent catering to the demands of a pint-sized tyrant.
Her tendency to cough or sneeze right in people’s faces convinced Pagona and the others to seek entertainment outside of the Galanis home.
Tasia was run ragged trying to entertain a cranky Chara and looked forward to her next delivery for multiple reasons.
If the wet-boot incident had shifted their working relationship in a negative direction, the bunny episode moved it into a realm that Tasia hoped meant friendship was on the horizon.
The rest day after discovering Mitch had a sense of humor, she arrived at their meeting spot to find him relaxed and calm.
He didn’t smile, but he did return her greeting.
Such a sense of optimism welled within her that it was hard to restrict herself to a humane number of comments and observations per minute.
When she judged his guard was as down as it had ever been, based on the lax posture of his shoulders, she ventured a question that required a real answer, not a simple yes or no.
When he admitted that he was an only child, she contained her whoop of joy with effort.
Not wanting to scare him off, she didn’t react beyond what was appropriate and waited several minutes before asking anything else.
Over the course of the four-hour journey, Tasia gradually pulled out several facts and opinions from her protector. Mitch liked spring and summer best. He had his twenty-third birthday a few months ago. Chocolate cake was his favorite treat.
By the end of the day, Tasia was feeling rather optimistic about making a real friend.
The fourth week Mitch escorted Tasia through the woods felt crunchy.
The frost defied the encroaching sunlight and took its own sweet time melting away.
A few gentle rainstorms had visited the forest prior to today, hinting at the soaking to come, but the day remained dry in spite of the cloud cover.
Each week, Tasia had offered to pay Mitch for escorting her through the woods.
And each week, he had turned her down. Mitch knew he was sliding into dangerous territory because he no longer viewed their arrangement as blackmail and, indeed, began to look forward to their time together.
Understanding that the deliveries couldn’t last forever, Mitch began wondering what she would do after.
“Good morning, Mitch!”
Half a smile tugged at his lips for a moment as the embodiment of sunshine greeted him. “Mornin’.”
The pair entered the trees, and Tasia took the lead.
She strode out with confidence, secure in the knowledge that this part of the path remained familiar.
Mitch made a silent wager with himself. If she could make it the entire way to Grandmother’s house without needing directions, he wouldn’t worry about her too much.
That would be proof that she was capable of taking care of herself.
If she didn’t get quite that far, he would reassess depending on how close she was.
Getting lost before the troll boulder would be pretty pathetic, and Mitch resolved to teach her some defense moves in that case.
Nothing too complicated, just some things she could learn while walking on the path.
Maybe throw in a more substantial move when they stopped for lunch.
Mitch’s predictions proved . . . unrealistically optimistic. Tasia managed to lose track of her navigation soon after the log bridge. An alluring toadstool caught her eye, and she was heading west before Mitch snagged the back of her cape and reoriented her.
He cleared his throat once they were travelling south again. “What are you going to do when Grandmother doesn’t need you to make deliveries anymore?”
“Oh!” Tasia peeked over her shoulder at him. A cute little wrinkle formed between her eyebrows. “Um. I’m not sure?”
“Do you have savings?” Mitch prodded.
“Yes!” Tasia gave a sharp nod, then tripped over something on the path. She recovered without his help, and he retracted the hand he had automatically stretched out. “I have been saving half of my earnings. And hiding them from my relatives,” she added as an afterthought.
This admission alarmed him more than he cared to admit. Was Tasia safe in her home? “Is there a reason they can’t know?” Mitch didn’t like the tentative way his words came out, so he coughed in irritation.
“Well—” Tasia used her hand to push her hair back over her shoulder. She had left half of it down, and Mitch was mesmerized by the way her locks seemed to glow in defiance of the weakened light.
“I don’t think that I want to live with them forever, you know?” Her shoulders twitched under her cape. “But I have the feeling that they . . . like things the way they are,” she finished.
“Are you safe with them?” There. He’d asked outright.
She turned around and blessed him with a gentle smile. “I am safe with them. Thank you for checking.”
Mitch scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, right.” He debated the merits of turning into a wolf for the rest of the walk.
Tasia took pity on him and resumed walking. “Why are you asking now?”
His mind blanked, and he blurted out what he’d been thinking earlier. “I can teach you some ways to defend yourself.”
Her curious eyes peered at him from her red-clad shoulder. She tilted her head. “How do you mean?”
Because she was looking at him and not the path, her steps were taking her straight into a large tree trunk.
“For instance”—Mitch grabbed her upper arms and redirected her out of harm’s way—“paying attention to one’s surroundings is a valuable life skill.”
She touched her nose as though realizing how close she had come to scraping it off on the tree bark. A nervous giggle bubbled to her lips. “That’s true.”
Mitch relinquished her arms and took the lead. “Being aware of who and what is around you can keep you out of some bad situations.”
“Like not leaving a well-lit street with lots of people to take a shortcut home through the alley, because the creep who’s been following you for three blocks is waiting for that opportunity.” Her words were light, but they chilled him.
This time, Mitch peered over his shoulder to look her in the eye. “That happen a lot?”
Tasia shrugged. “Diomland is a huge city. With that many people, a significant number of them are up to no good at any given time.”
He faced forward again. “Do you know what to do if one of them cornered you?”
“Um—” She sounded less certain now. “I never went anywhere alone. We always had a servant or two with us.”
“Not being alone is a good step. I don’t see any servants here, though. Do you?”
“Ha! No.”
Mitch wondered at the hint of bitterness. Until today, she had yet to express a truly negative sentiment about her living situation. Did the loss of her old life still sting? Or, as he suspected, was her current “family” taking advantage of her? Maybe she was an unpaid servant now.
A delicate finger poked him in the back, dragging him from his musings. “So? What should I do in that scenario?”
“Fight dirty and run away.”
Tasia took a second to consider that. “Sounds reasonable. How do I do that?”
For the rest of the walk to Grandmother’s house, Mitch went over vulnerable spots on an assailant and how to inflict the most damage with the least effort.
After the delivery, they paused for lunch in a small glade and he showed her how to break free from a couple holds.
When she expressed frustration about her inability to escape, he compounded that grievance by telling her it would take practice.
He also made her practice retrieving and opening her small folding knife with one hand on the walk back. Quiet reigned for several minutes while she bent her entire focus to the task. It didn’t last.
“Do you like being a wolf?”
Not expecting the question, Mitch grunted, then fiddled with his jacket.
“I mean, when you are in your wolf shape, do you enjoy it?” she clarified.
“Well. Yes.”
Tasia didn’t respond, but he could feel her silent encouragement to continue.
He used his hand to tilt his chin from side to side, producing a couple pops from his neck. “The heightened senses are nice. And I like having the stamina and extra speed.”
“You keep your human brain and reason, right?”
“Yeah, how did you know?” Mitch looked back at her.
“It seemed obvious.” Tasia flicked her wrist as if dismissing his silly question. “I bet the fur coat is nice during the cold months.”
“It is.”
“Is there anything you don’t like about it?”
The question was innocent enough, but Mitch was beginning to feel exposed. He didn’t want to share his deepest, most complicated feelings, so he threw out a less consequential tidbit.
“My stomach can’t handle raw meat in either form. If I catch something, I have to transform to make a fire and cook it.”
“Oh.” She sounded disappointed. “That isn’t very convenient.”
He felt the irrational need to defend his wolf stomach. “I can still eat some of the vegetation, and none of the water sources I’ve tried have bothered me.”
“Well, that’s something. Oooh! I did it.”
When he turned to look at her, she was brandishing the tiny knife with one hand high in the air. Her triumphant smile warmed his heart, so he repeated his resolve to keep her at arm’s length.
“Good. Keep doing it until you can’t get it wrong. Then do it with the other hand.”
A less-than-thrilled wrinkle scrunched up her nose, but she nodded thoughtfully and replaced the knife in her pocket to try again.
If Tasia could learn how to defend herself, maybe Mitch would gain the peace of mind to keep her from invading his heart.