Page 13 of Wild Claim

I grunted, not sure what else to say.

Mina stood and wiped her hands on her jeans, leaving smudges of dirt on the fabric. She looked at me, then quickly away, her eyes darting like a sparrow’s. “You never said your name.”

“Rory.”

“I’m Mina... and this is going to sound strange, but have we met before?”

How was I supposed to explain that I’d been living with her for days now? That as a turkey, I’d absorbed every detail of her life because it was the only thing keeping me sane.

“Maple Ridge is a small town. We might have passed by each other.” It was a weak save, and I knew it.

“And you were passing by in the cold... In your birthday suit and suddenly helped me?”

“Look, I’m not some hero. I just didn’t want to see you splattered on the ground.”

Silence hung between us. She was searching my face for something. I didn’t know what. All I could offer was the blank stare of a man with too many secrets.

“Please don’t misunderstand,” she said softly. “I appreciate it, but you could have just called out and scared me back onto the roof.”

I almost laughed at that. If she’d known how many times I’d squawked uselessly from below...

“Next time I’ll shout,” I said.

She studied me for a long moment. “There’s hot coffee inside if you want to warm up.”

The sensible thing would be to decline and make a run for my cabin while I still had legs to carry me. But sense had never been my strong suit.

“Coffee sounds good.”

“Come inside. It’s too cold to be standing outside like that.” Mina led the way to the farmhouse.

It was exactly like I remembered, a charming, faded relic of the past with peeling paint and a porch that drooped slightly. The warm air and the smell of freshly baked goods washed over me as we entered. My stomach growled loudly, and I remembered what it was like to be hungry for human food.

She pointed to a chair in the kitchen. “Take a seat. I’ll get the coffee.”

I sat down. The inside was just as cluttered and cozy as I remembered, with plants, stacks of books, and knitting projects strewn about.

Mina returned with two steaming mugs. She hesitated before handing it to me, as if approaching a wild animal. I took it and let the heat seep into my fingers. She sat across from me, her hands resting on the table, fidgeting with her mug. “So... Whywereyou out in the cold like that?”

Here it was. The moment where I’d have to make up some tale or come clean. I took a sip of coffee and nearly burned my tongue. It was strong and bitter, just how I used to like it. How much could I tell her without sounding completely insane? Probably not a lot, but I had to try something. I owed her an explanation. And maybe more than that.

Chapter Seven

MINA

The stew’s rich aromahit me like a tidal wave, pulling me back to evenings in this kitchen with Grandma. I stirred the pot, savoring the rhythm of the wooden spoon in my hand. But tonight felt different. There was a crackle of tension in the air, coming from the brooding presence behind me.

I stole a peek at Rory over my shoulder. His broad shoulders and bare chest were bent over the kitchen table, and I found myself drawn to the sight. But this time, his gaze seemed distant.Whatever weighed on him showed on his face. I paused, biting my lip. “Are you okay?”

He grunted in response. Alright then, back to caveman communication, I guess. I turned my attention back to the beef stew, giving it another slow stir as I considered this puzzle of a man. Beneath all that ruggedness, there was something else. Something deeper. I could sense it, even if he wasn’t ready to show it.

“Smells good,” he finally said.

“Thanks. It’s my grandmother’s recipe. She always said a hearty beef stew could cure just about anything.”

“Anything, huh?” There was a note of wistfulness in his tone that tugged at my heart.

I set the spoon down and turned to face him fully. He’s the strong, silent type. But if he was going to brood in my kitchen, he should at least say over two words. “Are you genuinely all right?”

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