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Chapter Fifteen
Finton
We fell asleep. All of us, I assume because when I woke up to find weak sunlight filtering through the gap between the curtains on the east-facing window, we were all curled up together like happy, comfy puppies. I snuggled deeper and buried my face in the soft locks of Cerine’s hair. When we fell asleep Trace was in the middle, but somehow we’d shifted during the night so my husband and I lay on either side of our female with her cradled in our arms. Exactly where she should be, and I didn’t want to do anything to wake her. She’d be sure to want to get up, especially with the storm abating as it had. No doubt it would be a day with many tasks to take care of.
Looking across her, I saw Trace watching me with a small smile on his lips. He probably felt the same way I did. Cerine was an adorable sleeper, with her closed eyes showing off long, dark lashes, hair fluffed up all around her face, and lips slightly parted to release a very soft, ladylike snore. She’d worked so hard to take care of us for days, and it was time for her to get some rest as well. I blew Trace a kiss and settled down to watch our new mate sleep.
Only watching turned into studying the inside of my eyelids, and the next time I opened my eyes it was to find Trace and Cerine both gone and stronger sunlight glowing through that same opening in the curtains. There was no point in questioning how they’d left without waking me. Normally I did not sleep that deep, but illness or being poisoned followed by worry was enough to wipe anyone out.
Their voices carried to me from the other room, and I climbed out of bed, wanting a shower and realizing I didn’t have anything to wear that wasn’t dirty or sweaty or otherwise horrible. The storm’s passing made it a priority to get to the tent and pick up our things so we could at least be clean. Also, anything left there would eventually be damaged by wildlife and weather, and we didn’t have a lot of things to spare at this point. Only what we’d carried with us and what lay in our house—that might be unsafe to visit for days or weeks or maybe forever.
So after a quick stop in the bathroom to use the extra toothbrush our hostess had provided, I dressed in the least repulsive of my clothes and headed for the main living area.
“And then Finton said, well at least I didn’t find two skunks.”
My two mates sat together on stools at the kitchen counter, mugs in front of them and laughter shaking both their shoulders.
Wanting to get even for being the butt of their jokes—that skunk had nailed me right in the face, making everything I ate or smelled redolent of his stank no matter what I did to get rid of it. And what I’d done was going to be the next thing he told about.
In a rush to make it at least my less-humiliating version, I approached them, already talking. “That’s right. So after the skunk sprayed me, I was presented with several possible ways to ease the complete horror that had infiltrated my face.”
They spun on their stools, having the good sense not to say anything, although both of them flushed red. And I didn’t really mind that they were talking about me. Not much anyway. Not if it made them smile. So I decided to let them continue. I could be the butt of their jokes. As long as we were here together.
“We didn’t know you were here,” Cerine protested while Trace struggled to keep from bursting out into more laughter. His flushed face was more from that than embarrassment. My mate didn’t know the meaning of the word abashed. “I’m so sorry if we hurt your feelings.”
“Oh, you didn’t.” I went into the kitchen and learned to my great pleasure that they were drinking coffee instead of that horrible tea. As healthful as it was, it was sure hard to get down, even with honey in it. “But go ahead, Trace, and tell our mate the rest.” I studied her expression while I said that word, the M word. But if she reacted, she hid it well.
“I’d love to share,” he said, giving a little bow before launching into an in-depth, full-color, scent-o’-vision description of my nightmare experience. “We were only about twelve at the time, and we’d been told not to go out in the woods alone after dark, so we were skulking along, very proud of ourselves when it happened—”
“Wait,” I interrupted. “Weren’t you much further along in the action when I came in?”
“Yeah.” He grinned at me but flicked his gaze down toward the counter, where he’d managed to capture Cerine’s hand in his. “But why not drag it out? It’s such a good story.”
And so he did, telling about the standard tomato juice while I beat eggs in a bowl then about my taking a bath in vanilla extract and very hot water, while I scrambled them and made toast. Fortunately, by the time I plated breakfast for everyone, he’d run out of real and imagined parts of the most mortifying day of my young life.
And that was before we both got punished for where we’d been when it happened. We were doing chores for the entire pack for two weeks and grateful we didn’t end up getting our hides tanned as well. There were a lot of ways two young boys could get hurt, and now, as an adult, I recognized how lucky we were just to run into a skunk. Trace was luckier than me, of course, having not been skunked at all. But it seemed to make for an entertaining story at least. Then I made my suggestion that we go to the tent and see if we could collect our belongings. Hopefully the heavy snowfall protected them from wildlife and didn’t do too much damage on its own.
I couldn’t remember if we had zipped it up…I hoped we had, or most of what we owned would likely be ruined
So, I washed the dishes and straightened up the kitchen while Cerine and Trace bundled up, arguing the whole time. Cerine didn’t think he should be going out in the cold yet, and he argued that he felt almost his old self and that if the three of us went, we could probably get anything salvageable in one trip. We carried a shovel each.
The snow had stopped and the wind was calm, but the snow was deeper, so we took turns leading out, stomping the snow down so the ones behind us had an easier time. I tried to get them to let me do it the whole way because Trace was still healing and Cerine was slighter of frame, but they both insisted on taking their turn and, by the time we got there, I was glad we had.
