Page 7 of The Quiet Alpha and His Fox
In the end, my human mind won out, and I left. Maybe it was my natural stoicism, but my coyote just couldn’t ever take over all the way. As much as he'd like to sometimes.
As I padded home through the pawflower, my loneliness grew stronger with every step away from the boy. I turned back toward the willow tree several times, tempted to run back, then I had to wrestle myself away from the pull I felt toward him. That wasn't normal. Had I ever felt like that toward a person? Maybe the pawflower was starting to get to me after all. After five years of working with it, maybe my immunity had worn out, and I was high as a kite.
After the third time I almost turned around, I forced myself to shift into my skin and walked the rest of the way home, cold but determined to leave the boy alone.
In the morning, after barely getting any sleep, I brewed some coffee and contemplated bringing him a cup. As I stood at the window and stared across my land, I noticed the dark clouds on the horizon. Shit, that didn’t look good.
I turned on the radio and listened to the weather channel. Another storm was coming. My crop had barely survived the last one, and there was no way I could risk another.
It was early, but I had a lot to get done before it started dumping. I hopped in my truck and drove as fast as I could to the gas station where guys gathered in the morning if they needed work. But as I should have predicted, the lot was empty. All the local farmers must have needed extra hands too as they prepared for the deluge.
Damn storms seemed to be getting stronger every year.
With a sigh, I pulled out my flip phone and called the few farmers I knew to ask if they had any extra hands I could hire for the day, but no dice.
Dammit. I turned back to the farm and rolled past the willow in time to see the boy rolling up his sleeping bag.
He could help… My coyote wasn’t usually so helpful, but in this case, he was right.
He could help, but that might be…complicated. Since I'd moved to the farm five years ago, I'd been very careful not to get close to anyone. The effect I had on people, the effect The Quiet had on people, could be hard for some people to handle. I didn't want to inflict that on the boy. Still, was it worth losing half my crop over?
I sighed and brought the truck to a stop, then reversed back to the willow tree. He was leaning against the fence, his rucksack on his back and a funny smile on his face as I pulled up.
His eyes were a brilliant blue—the color of the summer sky. A flush rose up my face as our eyes stayed locked.
Finally, he looked down, and his hair fell across his face. "I seen you at my camp." He looked back up at me and grinned.
I nodded, not sure how much he'd seen. How much he knew.
He gestured at the land behind him. "This your farm?"
I nodded again. "Yep. Uh, yes, it is. And, uh, I was wondering if you’re looking for some work." Why was I so nervous? I cleared my throat and sat up a little straighter.
His eyes widened. "Work? Absolutely. I can help with anything you need. I'm a hard worker."
His eagerness brought back the memory of how weak he'd looked the other day, before I left the food for him. He looked better now, but still thin. Too thin.
"Get in. And bring your stuff."
He climbed inside the truck and brought the smell of cinnamon with him, as well as an electricity that filled the air between us.
Ignoring it as much as possible, I stared straight ahead and started driving.
From the corner of my eye, I could see him glancing over at me. I wasn't sure what to say to alleviate his concern and confusion.
Hey, I'm the coyote from your camp…
Hey, sorry I was creepily standing over you, naked, while you slept…
Nothing sounded right, so I said the first thing that came to my mind. "How old are you?"
He laughed in a surprised way. "Me? I'm, uh, I'm twenty."
I didn't say anything when he chuckled again, just furrowing my eyebrows as I wondered what was funny about that.
"Sorry, I just… It's my birthday today, so it's funny you should ask my age. Took me a minute to remember I'm turning twenty. Um, today."
I looked over as his gaze dropped to the floor, and he wiped his palms on his jeans.
