“Ash. He said the town is fortunate to have you.”
He chuckles, taking note of the time, and gives the reins a gentle shake. “Word has it you’ve been spending a lot of time with our council treasurer.”
“Marshall warned me gossip travels fast in Moss Hollow.”
Hudson wears a friendly expression. “I imagine it’s like any other small town. How are you settling in?”
I catch a glimpse of Rowan flying between the trees ahead of us. “Everyone has been very welcoming, and my aunt’s house is cozy.” I twist my hands in my lap, willing myself to smile. “But I never imagined I’d move so far from my family.”
He glances over, offering me a soft, knowing smile. “Homesick?”
I nod, feeling comfortable admitting it to the shifter. As a rule, they’re highly family oriented. “But my parents promised they’d visit me soon, so I’ll be all right.”
“Are you coming to tonight’s meeting?”
“I am.”
I’m equal parts excited and nervous. It’s not easy being the new face in town, but I’m looking forward to meeting more of my neighbors. The sooner I get to know people, the sooner Moss Hollow will feel like home.
Hudson and I talk about the town for the rest of the ride. I learn his parents live here, along with several aunts, uncles, and cousins. He has a big, close extended family, as many shifters do.
“You haven’t asked me what we are yet,” Hudson says with a chuckle when the four-story parking garage is in view. It’s weird to see a big, modern structure out here in the country, not far from a two-hundred-year-old covered bridge—and it’s definitely odd to see vehicles parked in the lot surrounding it.
I feel like I’ve been living in a time warp for the last five days.
“I know you’re a shifter, and I think I know what type. But it wouldn’t have been nice to ask.”
“I don’t mind. Out of curiosity, what do you think I am?”
“Canine, I believe.”
“I shift into a Newfoundland,” he confirms, and then he smiles. “My youngest sister is a Corgi.”
That makes me pause. “You can be different breeds?”
“We’re canine shifters, but the magic allows us to change into any dog we like. As children, we usually play with a lot of shapes until we find the one that suits us. Just like many other shifters cycle through colors.”
“I didn’t know that,” I admit.
“Did you grow up around many shifters?”
“A lot—mostly wolves, though. But my mom’s friend shifts into a bear. She lives in a cabin near Olympic National Forest and then spends winters at Lake Havasu.”
“Bears often winter in warm places—cold weather makes them sluggish.” Hudson turns into the parking lot and pulls the horse to a stop. “Here we are.”
“Thank you for the ride,” I say. “How do I pay you?”
He produces a handheld payment device that’s about the size of a phone.
“That’s handy.” I tap my card and then add my email for the receipt. “We’re not allowed to have cars, but at least we have cell phone towers.”
Hudson smiles. “Give me a call when you’re on your way back to town, and I’ll make sure someone is here to pick you up.”
“Sounds good.” I hop down from the padded seat. “Thanks for the ride.”
He and Ferdinand head back toward town, and I walk into the parking garage, showing my ticket to the guard at the gate.
“Thank you, Miss Merriweather,” he says. “Go on in.”
