Page 22 of A Wolfe in the Woods

I huffed a breath. “Thought you had wards up for them.”

“I do,” she shot back. “Doesn’t stop ’em bein’ little menaces.” A beat. “I started hittin ’em with bug repellent. Seems to do the trick.”

I shook my head.

“Oh—and word is the Harrowins sold off their land two days ago,” she added, almost absently. “Been in their family near a hundred years. Folk don’t just give that up—not out here.”

I rubbed the tension at the back of my neck. “All right, anything else? I want off the phone—signals breakin’ up.”

I was lying. Signal was fine; I just wanted to be alone.

“Try that line on someone who doesn’t know your tell, pup. Signal’s just fine.”

Dammit. Why do I even bother?

“And don’t get prickly. Ya asked me to remind ya—I’m just doin’ my job. Anyway…I’ll see ya both soon for supper.”

“Uh—about that…” My grip on the wheel tightened. “I showed up to the pickup spot we agreed on. She wasn’t there,” I said flatly. But I could already hear the judgment in her silence,so I quickly added, “I figured she had things to do and would find her own way back.”

“So…what? Ya just left her there?”

I stayed quiet.

“Well, aren’t ya a gentleman. And they say chivalry is dead,” May replied sarcastically. “Might I remind ya, she’s aguest. Have ya considered that if ya keep this up, she might just surprise ya with a blemish of a review for your less than accommodatin’ treatment toward her? How would that look so early into this venture? Not to mention, that girl’s not from up here in these woods. She doesn’t know these roads. She barely got here in one piece on her own the first time. Ya gonna let her try her luck twice?”

“You know why I don’t like her.”

“Yes, I do…” She sighed softly. “But that’s no excuse.”

She let the pause sit, heavy with disappointment.

“The roads will be pitch black soon, Jon…kinda like your heart, if you’re not careful.”

She never called meJon. No one did. I hated it. Which was probably why she used it now—sharp and deliberate. I knew she wasn’t intending to bruise my feelings, only to make a point.

I let out a slow breath through my nose, jaw tight. “I’ll go back.”

“Damn right ya will,” she said. “And you’ll bring her back with both her groceries and her pride intact,ifya can manage it.”

“I don’t know where she is.”

“Ya sure about that? I’m gonna let you think about that one, Counselor…see what the evidence tells ya.”

And right before I could fire back, the call clicked off.

I stared at the screen for a moment, then shoved the phone back onto the console and turned the wheel hard at the next turnout, tires grinding on gravel as I reversed course.

Back to Everwick.

It didn’t take long to get back into town.

Everwick was quieter at dusk. Lanterns flickered to life along the narrow lanes, casting soft pools of light over cobblestone and ivy. A few pedestrians lingered, their conversations low, their steps unhurried. Tourists or a few of the town’s quieter regulars who still respected the hush that fell over Everwick after dark.

I should’ve been back up to the B&B by now. I had a list a mile long waiting for me at the Hollow—endless repairs and upgrades, firewood to split before the next group of guests arrived, and a mountain of paperwork my father had left behind. Permits, contracts, old legal filings—all of it half-sorted and scattered like breadcrumbs he’d never intended anyone to follow. Some days it felt like I wasn’t just running a B&B…I was excavating a legacy, one giant, forgotten mess at a time.

I coasted down Sandshore Drive, scanning the familiar storefronts, the bistro lights twinkling overhead, the breeze from the sea threading through the open windows. I turned down familiar roads as if on auto-pilot. Then I saw it…the low white fence, the trellis draped in wisteria still heavy with blooms.

June’s cottage.