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Lyra spent about two hours trying to fit Mari’s car seat into the backseat of the truck.
Then she went back into the cabin to wash and dress Marigold, who she put in a fluffy, yellow onesie.
She put a white cap on Mari’s head and matching white woolen booties on the infant’s tiny feet.
Not that Marigold was that tiny any longer. The baby was growing faster and faster every day … faster than most babies.
Lyra had a feeling it had something to do with her bear-shifter genes.
Marigold was even outgrowing the clothes that Lyra had purchased two weeks earlier.
“I’ll stop by the baby care store in town,” Lyra whispered to Marigold. She stroked the baby’s cheek once and then lifted her into her arms. “And we’ll get you some new threads.”
Lyra grabbed her bag on the way out, as well as the Maya wrap Timber had purchased.
She settled Marigold safely into the car seat, strapping her in tightly. Then Lyra got into the driver’s seat and turned on the beast of a truck.
The engine roared to life, and Marigold burst into bell-like laughter in the backseat.
* * *
In Costco,Lyra realized she was being followed.
Marigold was secure in the Maya wrap, and she could feel the baby’s steady breathing against her neck.
She had just come from the drugstore and was heading to the supermarket for snacks.
At first, Lyra thought she had imagined it.
She had gone into town pretty early, and most people were at work or school. So it could seem that someone was following her, even though they were just in the same aisle as she was.
But after about twenty minutes of pushing the cart up and down the store, Lyra knew she wasn’t imagining it at all.
The man who was following her, a giant of a man well over six feet, was practically breathing down her neck. He had tried, at first, to make himself seem inconspicuous. But he apparently didn’t care right then whether she knew he was following her or not.
Lyra didn’t think she was in any real danger. But she turned the cart down the next aisle and headed to the front of the store just in case.
Then she stopped in the snack aisle, and the man came to a stop a few feet away from her.
Slow your breathing, girl. No need to get out of here because of this. It’s probably just some loser who wants to ask you out.
Ithadhappened before.
But then he spoke.
“That’s a beautiful little girl you have there.” His voice was hoarse and old. When Lyra turned to him, she thought that he couldn’t be hitting on her.
He was probably a few decades older than her. His hair was silvery-white, and his eyes held the permanently watery look of someone who had seen too much.
A scar ran through his right brow, and he wore gold rings on every finger.
Her skin prickled, though Lyra didn’t know if it was plain anxiety or real fear that had her heart racing in her chest.
Marigold must have sensed the shift in Lyra’s mood. Or maybe she could simply feel Lyra’s heart thudding erratically against her cheek. But she stirred then, wriggling against the folds of the wrap that held her safely.
“She is. She’s lovely,” Lyra said. Her voice was stilted and had risen two octaves.
Why did you have to squeak the words out?she thought to herself with a wince.
