Page 21 of A Wolfe in the Woods

I thought I’d be prepared to see my grandmother’s cottage when it finally came into view. The sight of it stole my breath. The sloping roof, the bay window at the front, the fading white picket fence that enveloped her beloved front garden. A trellis of wisteria was still arched over the front gate.

My brows furrowed, shock rooting me momentarily. The garden had been…maintained? I’d half expected to encounter an overgrown tangle of choked ivy and dying rose bushes, which was one of the reasons I’d been putting off this visit.

But…it looked just as it had when she’d beenaliveand seeing it brought a rush of tears swimming in my vision.

Unconsciously, my feet took me to the waist-high gate, and I reached over to unlatch it. Wisteria blooms trailed over my head like a caress when I ducked beneath them to step into the garden. I stood like a statue, my ice cream likely melting in my brown bag, staring at the empty house that I still didn’t have the courage to unlock.

Instead, I went to the stone bench, bracketed by thorny rose bushes that had been pruned recently. Blooms as big as my face greeted me, their fragrance like a memory.

Sitting in my grandmother’s garden, where I’d often watched her work, I felt my grief crash over me like a wooden beam over my head. My groceries were forgotten at my feet.

And with the scent of roses in my nostrils and the crisp sea breeze against my skin, I cried for the first time in over a year.

CHAPTER 7

JONATHAN

The road curved sharp along the ridge, just wide enough for my truck to straddle without scraping the edge. I was already halfway back up the mountain. Trees closed in on both sides, shadows stretching long and thin across the pavement as the sun dipped low behind the peaks. Early-evening light flickered through the branches. I had one hand on the wheel, the other drifting out the open window, elbow catching the breeze, fingers lazily riding the wind. It was quiet, and that quiet made me think too much.

Blanchette Redfield.

Even her name stirred something in me I didn’t want to look at closely. Guilt, maybe. Or something deeper. She had no idea who I was. No idea that after she’d left for Graymore to carve out her career miles away, I’d been the only person showing up in her grandmother’s life, checking in, mending fence posts. Trimming the wild rose bushes June had loved so much, making sure the place still looked lived-in…even later when it wasn’t.

June had never asked for help. She’d never needed to. I’d just wanted to do something kind for someone who’d needed it and deserved it. Someone who’d given me kindness when no one elsewould. When folks would rather not engage with “the boy who grew up inthosewoods.”

Blanchette had never seen the weeds creep up the porch steps…or the windows built up with salt and dust. She hadn’t seen June’s loneliness settle in like the Everwick fog.

I had.

And still, she’d stayed away. Blanchette had never been there, not even toward the end. When it mattered most.

The girl had no business being back here on a retreat. Avacation. She hadn’t come to sort through her grandmother’s things or tend to the house or even pay her respects. She came to unwind—like this place wasn’t heavy with everything she’d left behind.

Maybe once I’d have understood her. Even defended her. Back when I’d been clawing my way through Graymore’s courts, chasing wins and titles like they actually meant something. I’d made a living out of turning motives into arguments, of dressing up excuses as justification. I’d made my peace with a lot of things when I’d left. But people who abandoned their roots and then acted surprised when they found rot?

I had no patience for that anymore.

I hated thinking. It always involved thoughts about things I hated thinking about.

My phone buzzed from the console, slicing through my thoughts.

I glanced down. May. Of course.

I let it ring once, then swiped to answer on speaker. “Yeah?”

“Jon-boy,” she said in that sweet, syrupy drawl of hers that always meant she was about to ruin my evening with a smile. “Hope you’re not already back and settled, ’cause I’ve got your honey-do list.”

I exhaled slowly. “Let’s hear it.”

“Well, for starters, that loose board on cabin four’s porch finally gave out. Nearly sent me flying, and I ain’t keen on airborne adventures anymore.”

“Ya sure? Maybe you should dust off the old broom. Might surprise yourself,” I replied, steering through the bend.

“Hardy har-har. Anyhow, the septic inspector’s gonna be here round one o’clock tomorrow.”

“I didn’t forget. Anything else?”

“Mm-hmm,” she said, unconvinced. “Also, there’s a whole pile of firewood behind the shed that needs splittin’. It’s been sittin’ so long, the spiders think it’s rent-controlled. And those sprites are back,” she added, clicking her tongue. “Undid a whole line of linens I just hung.”