Page 45 of Hunted

Well, Esme didn’t anyway. Abigail didn’t think Bert had said a word to her since they met.

He’s the smile and nod type,she told herself.

“Hello, dearie! You’re on a walk then? Of course, you are! Silly me! Would you like some cookies? Some sweet iced tea?”

Abigail stopped walking and evaluated how she was feeling. She had walked around the pack territory with such ferocity that she had grown hungry and sweaty in the time she had been out. And despite the slight chill in the air, sweet iced tea sounded like a good idea.

So, she nodded and walked up to the porch as Esme hurried back into the house.

“Bert? Bert! We’ve got guests! Get the kids dressed!”

Kids?

What kids?

Maybe they have dogs they dress up?

Abigail almost laughed at the absurdity of the thought, but her mouth dropped open as Gavin, Isolde, and Samara ran out of the house.

She always had fun talking to her star pupils from her tutoring class. They were three of the most intelligent young children she had ever met.

“Miss Abby!” they shouted in unison. “Grandma says you’re staying for snack time!”

She laughed out loud and felt her stress and anxiety melting away. “I guess I am! It’s so great to see you guys! And I didn’t know that Miss Esme was your grandmother.”

“Oh please,” Esme called from the porch, where she was setting up a veritable feast. “Please call me Esme. Sayingmissmakes me feel so old.”

Abigail laughed again, as Isolde and Samara each took one of her hands. Gavin ran ahead of them, and soon they were all at ease on the porch.

Bert was settled into a chair, and Abigail sat down in one of the free chairs while the children sat on the porch steps. Esme handed her husband and Abigail tall glasses of sweet tea before she handed the children some juice.

“Too much sugar in this tea,” she whispered to Abigail. “The juice is better for them. Otherwise, I’ll never get them down for a nap.”

“Thank you for this,” Abigail said earnestly. “This is exactly what I didn’t know I needed.”

Esme waved off her thanks. “Don’t worry, darling. My special gift, Bert says, is showing up to help people when they don’t know they need help. But I think it’s just my baking skills that makes everyone feel better.”

Bert grunted, and Abigail was shocked when his lips spread into a toothy smile.

Then, still smiling, he lifted his glass of tea and drained it in one gulp.

“That’s nice, that is, Mother,” he said to Esme, and Abigail giggled as the older woman blushed.

Esme handed plates filled with snacks to each of the children as Abigail and Bert helped themselves.

Then they settled into their chairs, in companionable silence.

The sounds of the forest were back, Abigail thought as she listened to a slight wind rustling through the trees.

She could hear, a few feet away, that some hungry mice were waiting for crumbs to be thrown to them.

A squirrel sat up in the maple tree to her left, and a deer prowled through the forest about three miles behind the cabin.

“This is so nice,” Abigail said with a happy sigh when they had plowed through most of Esme’s delicious snacks.

“Yes, it is,” Esme agreed perkily. “That is why we decided to stay on the edge of the compound. It’s quiet but not silent. There’s always a field mouse or two around here. In fact, we suspect a family of them might be living underneath this very porch.”

Abigail smiled as she suddenly became tired.

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