Chapter 13 #3
“I don’t really enjoy living in the city,” she said hastily.
Somewhat to her own surprise, she discovered it was true.
She’d lived with all the noise and crowding for so long, she hadn’t realized how much it grated on her soul.
“That’s one of the reasons I wanted to come to camp.
To get away from it all. Reconnect with nature. ”
Leonie—who’d also been looking a touch worried for no discernible reason—broke out into her warm, open smile again. “You can certainly do that here. How do you like Thunder Mountain?”
“It’s wonderful,” Honey said fervently. Here, at least, was something she could be completely honest about.
“The skies, the trees, the lake—it’s all so beautiful.
And the air! When I was driving up to the camp, I was practically hanging my head out the window like a dog. Everything smells so good here!”
“You,” Buck muttered, “have not set foot inside any of the boys’ cabins.”
“Oh, hush,” Leonie told him. She shot Honey a sly sideways glance. “Sooooo… tell us more about Chicago. Do you have a pack waiting for you back in the city?”
“A pack?” Honey said, baffled. “You mean like the campers?”
“No, silly.” Leonie gave her a friendly mock-swat on the arm. “An actual pack. You know, other shifters?”
Honey hesitated for an instant, wondering whether to pretend that she did. Wolves were pack animals, after all. Maybe wolf shifters didn’t live on their own. She didn’t dare glance at Buck for guidance.
“No,” she said, deciding that it was safer to stick to the truth than start inventing a whole fictitious werewolf community. “It’s just me.”
Leonie, thankfully, did not seem to find this too weird. In fact, she seemed oddly pleased by the information, as did Moira. The two exchanged covert, secretive glances, as though sharing some private joke.
Ragvald also seemed to have picked up on the mysterious subtext running under the conversation. He frowned at Moira.
“Why do you smile?” he asked with clear disapproval. “Surely it is a matter of grief that our shield-sister has no clan waiting for her back in her winter lands.”
“Oh, I’m sure Honey doesn’t mind,” Leonie said airily. “There’s nothing wrong with being a lone wolf, after all.”
Moira looked like she was trying hard not to smile. “One might argue that it even has some advantages.”
“No attachments,” Leonie agreed. “The freedom to go wherever the whim might take you.”
“Like, say, to summer camp.” Honey still didn’t see the joke, but she gamely attempted to join in. “I certainly couldn’t have run away from all my responsibilities like this in the past. My kids think I’m having a very late midlife crisis.”
She’d said something wrong. Moira and Leonie’s smiles vanished, wiped off their faces in an instant.
“Your… kids?” Leonie repeated, in a very different voice to her earlier light, teasing tone. “You mean your students?”
“No, I mean my actual kids,” Honey said, baffled by their reaction. “Though I suppose I shouldn’t call them kids, since they’re all grown up now. Two sons and a daughter.”
Moira had gone very still. “And their father?”
“Oh, we’re divorced,” Honey said, and was utterly bewildered to see both women release a long whooosh of held breath. “Over a year now.”
Leonie relaxed, her smile returning. She patted Honey’s hand, fixing her with a sympathetic look.
“You mustn’t feel bad about it,” she said earnestly. “These things happen. Sometimes people drift apart. Especially when… well, you know.”
Honey did know. It was the same platitudes she’d heard over and over, after all, from friends and colleagues and her own ex-husband: These things happen. Nobody’s to blame. It’s all for the best.
She should have been able to smile and agree that yes, it was just one of those things. Be calm and civilized and—that awful lawyer word— amicable . What everyone wanted her to be. So very, very amicable.
But for once, it was too much. She was somewhere she shouldn’t be, pretending to be something she wasn’t, and one extra layer of pretense threatened to bring the whole house of cards tumbling down.
Smile, she told herself fiercely. Do it for the kids. Like always.
“Yes,” she said, and forced her mouth upward. “Don’t worry, I’m completely fine. It was all… all very amicable.”
Buck abruptly stood, shoving back his log with a rough, attention grabbing scrape of sound.
“Enough,” he announced, in a tone that brooked no argument. “Motherloving shifters, give them an inch and they break out the thumbscrews. Honey needs rest, not the Spanish Inquisition. I’m taking her to bed.”
“Buck!” Honey yelped, hot embarrassment wiping away every other emotion. She turned to Leonie and Moira. “He doesn’t mean—”
Her words were lost in a sudden flurry of activity. Leonie and Moira were already scrambling to their feet, both talking at once.
“Wow, look at the time, didn’t realize it was so late—”
“Indeed, we should all get some rest—”
“But the fire still burns bright,” Ragvald protested, still seated. “And there is yet drink to share and tales to tell.”
“It is late,” Moira said firmly. “We are all very tired. Including you.”
“I am?”
“Yes.” Moira clamped a hand around Ragvald’s brawny upper arm, dragging him after her. “You are.”
“Buck really didn’t…” Honey tried again, but all three shifters had already hurried away. She turned an exasperated look on Buck. “Did you have to phrase it like that?”
He shrugged, bending to pick up a stick. “Worked, didn’t it?”
Honey sighed, conceding the point. “I suppose it did. Thanks for the rescue. You were right, this was a bad idea. I didn’t realize how much little details might matter. At least you were able to stop them from getting too suspicious.”
“Not why I scared them off.” Buck poked at the embers in the fire pit before adding, gruffly, “You still in contact with him?”
“Who, my ex?” She blinked at him, taken aback. “Not really.”
He grunted, his gaze still fixed on the fading fire. “Do you know his address?”
“No, but I could ask my kids. Again, why?”
In the flickering, fading firelight, his features were an unreadable mask, all hard lines and harsh shadow. “Helps to know where a man lives if I’m going to go punch him in the face.”
“ Buck!” She stared at him, finding absolutely no sign that he was joking. “You shouldn’t say things like that.”
“Believe me, I intend to do more than just say it.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Anyway, there’s no need to go charging off on your white horse. Everything’s fine. Like I said, it was all very amicable.”
Buck flashed her a look across the fire pit. “Then I will very amicably punch him in the face.”
“Oh, stop it, you terrible man.” Despite her rebuke, Honey felt herself smile—a real one, this time. “But thank you. For the offer.”
Buck grunted again, returning his attention to the fire. “This shouldn’t be left unattended yet. No need for you to wait around, though. Go get some sleep.”
She knew he was right, yet she had a strange urge to stay. Some long-buried part of her wanted to go to him, to sit side by side until the firelight faded and the soft night stole in.
She pushed away the mad impulse, getting to her feet. “Make sure you get some rest, too. No staying up all night this time, okay?”
This time, his grunt was more of a huff, tinged with dark humor. “No promises there. But I’ll try.”