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Chapter Twenty-Three

On Sunday afternoon, Vance dragged Lilith out to the woods for a walk. She called it a hike. But was it really a hike if there was only gentle, sloping elevations? It’s not like he was going to herd her up the higher peaks in Thistledon; she didn’t have the right shoes for it.

He had to admit she did look entirely out of place with her full pale face, soot-eyed, black lip makeup; her black corset top, hi-low black lace and tulle skirt; and those damn buckled boots he salivated over every time she wore them. Oh, and he couldn’t forget the crewel-work parasol, also in black of course.

At the moment he was leaning up against a tree, drinking from his water bottle with Lil’s sippy cup full of diluted sports drink in his other hand. After she’d had a few sips, she’d wandered off. While he wouldn’t normally let her out of his sight, he was glad she was actually showing some interest in the outdoors so he’d let her go.

But it had been a few minutes since he’d seen or heard her and it’s not like she was stealthy in the forest—although in a graveyard all bets were off. He was about to call for her when there was a rustle of trees and she came thumping through the underbrush looking a mess. Burrs stuck all over her skirt and in her hair, parasol shoved under her arm and a wide-eyed look of worry on her face.

“What happened, Lil, y’okay?”

Had she fallen? It wasn’t like there were steep hills or ravines in this part of the woods—he wouldn’t have let her go wandering off alone if there were—but it wasn’t completely level terrain either what with the rocks and the tree roots and—

“I’m fine, Daddy. But look!”

He had to tear his gaze away from her eyes brimming with tears and her trembling chin to peek into her cupped hands she was holding toward him.

She had a small, motionless bird in her palms. Oh no.

“Oh, sweetheart…”

He really did not want to get into the circle of life with her. He’d do it, but, like, talking about death with a little was excruciating and they’d already done that a lot this weekend. It was one thing to comfort her through her bereavement over her twin but about a bird?

“She’s not dead, Daddy,” Lil insisted, holding the brown lump of feathers out to him. “I saw her. She knocked into something and she fell. Make her better.”

Is this how Eric felt when a kid brought a hopelessly mangled stuffie to him and demanded he fix it? Probably not because that man was like the Universal Daddy and likely had a stuffie surgical suite somewhere in his practice for just that purpose.

“I’ll try, poppet, but…”

He held out his hands and Lilith gently slipped the poor little bird into his palms. Still warm so that was good. He slipped his thumbs over the tiny body, wishing he wasn’t such a giant oaf and that he had a more delicate touch but he did the best he could. Didn’t feel like either of the bird’s wings were broken, so that was also promising but—

Suddenly there was a flurry of feathers and needle-tipped claws in his hands as the bird shivered awake. Lil was right. Not dead, just dazed. The beady-eyed puff ball took a second to get its bearings and then launched itself out of his hands and onto a nearby branch.

Vance heaved a sigh of relief. He really hated disappointing his lil bit and she deserved some good news after the emotional brutality of this weekend.

And then Lil was launching herself into his arms and he scooped an arm under her hips to hold her against him while she flung her limbs around his neck and waist.

“Daddy, you saved her! Thank you.”

He probably shouldn’t take credit for simply being the one to be holding the bird when it came to, but Lilith’s faith in him—that she could bring him broken things and he would fix them—was too intoxicating to pass up.

“You’re welcome, little girl. I love that you have such a kind heart.”

Despite her fascination with the dark and macabre she really did. Perhaps because she saw the beauty in so many unloved things and it made her sensitive and deeply empathetic. Not something people probably expected from someone who looked like they paid tribute to Edgar Allan Poe’s gravesite, but he’d come to see that almost every original impression he’d had about Lilith had been wrong.

* * *

After a few minutes of being held, Lilith slid reluctantly down her daddy’s front as he set her feet on the ground. She missed hugging him, but she did like how he immediately scooped up her hand into his and gave it a squeeze.

Also how he handed her the sippy he’d brought for her and ordered her to drink before they headed back to the cabin. Being out in the woods wasn’t her favorite but it wasn’t so bad with Daddy. Especially because he shook his head and tutted at the burrs in her hair and said he’d have to comb those out once they got home. She loved it when he brushed her hair.

Once she was finished, he tossed their things into a small backpack he slung over his shoulder and then held her hand again as they went on their way.

He seemed quiet, thoughtful, and while part of her wanted to tug on his hand and ask what was going through his head, part of her enjoyed the chance to listen to the sounds of the woods. Scurrying of creatures, chirping of birds, wind rustling through branches. Felt easier to breathe out here in some ways, and she could understand why Vance liked it. So unlike the time he spent doing his job.

She was just picturing them walking through these same woods during each of the seasons when he spoke.

“Come back to Clover City with me.”

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