Epilogue
JOY
“Careful with that! A little to the left!”
Joy stopped calling instructions and stood back nervously, watching Bar work the controls of the small backhoe that was digging a trench behind the half-reconstructed log chalet. The warm summer air smelled of wildflowers and fresh dirt, and the green trees and flower-flushed meadows were a very different scene than when Joy had her first sight of the Grey family lands eight and a half months ago.
Now the chalet was under construction. As soon as the old road to Bar’s family lands was passable in the spring, Bar had brought out a building inspector who declared the foundation solid and the logs salvageable. After that, there had followed months of work, intermittent for both of them, as they could only spare precious weekends and occasional vacation days.
Money was tight, as Bar was still working to rebuild his family business—although by Joy’s standards, even Bar’s version of “financially strapped” was beyond her previous dreams. But it was true that they didn’t have a lot of spare funds for a big construction project. They had ended up doing a lot of the work themselves, but Joy felt that, exhausting as it could be, it was richly rewarding. She felt as if they were building their future together with their own hands.
Bar shut down the rented backhoe and stepped out to inspect his work, a new utility trench for the building’s updated infrastructure. “How’s it look?” he asked Joy, wiping a hand across his forehead.
“Well, you managed not to hit that tree, so I think we’re doing good.” Joy set down her long-handled pruning shears; she had been spending a lot of time lately in the old orchard, cleaning up the legacy of long neglect. She knew nothing about fruit trees, but had been using her phone to identify them and then reading up on their care.
Bar kissed her, tasting of sweat and sunshine. “After the trenching is done, we can get an actual contractor out here to do the wiring. I don’t think I need to add an electrician’s license to my various other qualifications.”
“I still think you could’ve dug it with your front claws.” Having a dragon fiancé was turning out to be immensely useful for the heavier work. Bar was getting more comfortable at shifting into his dragon form, and it had made it possible for the two of them to do what would otherwise have required a full construction crew.
Bar snorted. “Speaking as the person with the claws, let’s just say that I’d rather let the backhoe deal with rocks, tree roots, and other hazards.” He stretched. “But you know what, after a hard day’s work, I could blow off a little steam, so to speak—what do you say?”
Joy looked up at the late afternoon sky, all but bouncing in place. “Is it safe?” she asked. They were very careful about Bar being seen.
“I’ll stay low, don’t worry. We can fly over to Doreen and Wick’s. Didn’t she say Wick was going to have some homemade jam for you to pick up?”
“Sold,” Joy announced.
She quickly shimmied out of her clothes and slipped them into the satchel that she had taken to carrying with her for shifter quick changes. Bar watched appreciatively, his gaze deepening with lust.
“Later, dear,” Joy told him, as her nipples hardened with more than just the cool breeze—although that too. “There’s a nice big bed at the lodge waiting for us.” And soon, she hoped, a bed in their own house in the mountains—but not quite yet.
Bar smiled and shifted, his clothing shimmering along with him as usual. He picked up the satchel in his claws, and Joy shifted to a squirrel and scampered up his shoulder to perch between the spines on his neck.
They had tried flying with Joy as a human, but it turned out that she was too tense and nervous to enjoy it. Also, being on dragonback was windy and damp. It was like riding a bicycle at altitude—a bicycle ride that would result in a lethal fall if you lost your balance.
But as a squirrel, she had no fear. She knew she could hang on with her claws, and even if she fell, squirrels were designed to endure long falls from heights.
She trusted Bar to catch her. But it was probably best if they didn’t have to put it to the test, which was a lot easier with a long-tailed squirrel clinging to his neck rather than a very nervous woman.
Bar beat his wings and they took off in a great downdraft that fluttered the grass and wildflowers. Joy leaned forward, dug in her claws, and peered over the edge of his neck as Bar swooped across the trees.
He avoided the lodge because it had its summer clientele of mixed human and shifter guests. Hester had said this might be the last year the lodge hosted humans at all, but they still didn’t have a large enough pool of shifter-only guests to make ends meet during the busy season. When fall returned to the mountains, she had promised that the lodge would revert to its shifter-only status, and as they got the business further established, the guests would eventually be all shifters all the time, perhaps including more permanent residents who rented out the rooms long-term.
But for now, Joy could glimpse the rooftops from a distance, as well as some of the trails that were becoming familiar to her. Bar flew low, weaving in and out of the highest treetops with grace and skill that she could only envy.
As the branches whipped past them, she wondered if it was just her squirrel vision making the tree colors look a bit wonky, or if there were already yellow patches. Autumn came early to the mountains, after all, and this year she was desperately looking forward to it, when the tourists went away and it was just them again.
The ground fell away beneath them, and Bar gave up trying to hide and soared openly across Doreen and Wick’s valley. Wick’s logging truck was out in the lumberyard behind their cabin, and Doreen looked up from tossing logs into the bed with arms as muscular as most men’s. She waved with a work-gloved hand and went back to loading the pile of wood.
Joy didn’t see Wick at first. Then she glimpsed V-shaped ripples in the beaver pond below the cabin. A minute later, a large beaver surfaced, waddled out onto the dam dragging a fairly hefty stick, and went to work doing repairs on the dam.
Wick was a firm believer in using traditional methods, at least some of the time.
As Bar winged in a wide circle, Joy looked up to the peaks of the mountains. One of these days, she wanted Bar to take her up there, to waterfalls and valleys so remote that human eyes had rarely seen them.
But for today, she turned her gaze back to the toy-sized cabin below them, growing rapidly larger as Bar winged in for a landing. Today, there would be a visit with their friends, fresh wild raspberry jam to enjoy, and finally a pleasant dinner at the lodge and a large, comfortable bed at the end of the day. From the lodge, she would call Leah to check in and text her some pictures of the renovations.
It was a good life. A wonderful life.
Home , she thought with a little ripple of anticipation and eagerness.
And there was nowhere else she would want to be.