Page 9 of Wild Claim

Mina finished hollowing the pumpkin and wiped her hands on a dish towel. She looked tired, and for a moment, older thanher years. It was the first time I’d seen her without that constant spark of optimism.

A phone buzzed on the counter. She glanced at the screen and hesitated. In that split second, I saw a flurry of emotions cross her face. None of them good.

“Todd,” she said aloud, more to herself than to me. She bit her lower lip, deliberating, then picked up the phone and swiped to answer. “Hello?” Mina turned her back to me and walked toward the living room. “Yeah, I’ve been fine,” she said into the phone. “Busy with the farm and... other things.”

The warmth from the stove had finally seeped into my bones, but an uneasy tension now replaced it. I strained to hear Mina’s side of the conversation, not out of nosiness—okay, maybe a little—but because I genuinely wondered what could make her so conflicted.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” she said after a long pause. “Things are still... I’m still trying to figure things out.” Another silence followed, this one heavy and leaden. “You can’t be serious,” she said. “After everything, you think...No. I’m not interested.”

I could almost hear Todd’s pleading on the phone, his insistence that everything would be fine, that they could go back to how it was.

“Okay,” she said finally. “I’ll think about it.” She ended the call and stared at the darkened screen. When she came back into the kitchen, her face was a mask of neutrality. She picked up the dish towel and wrung it in her hands. “That was my ex. He’s in town for a few days.”

If I could have raised an eyebrow, I would have.

“He wants to see me. But I’m not sure it’s a good idea.” She looked at me as if seeking advice. “What do you think?”

In my head I was thinking, “This Todd’s probably a total asshole.” Mina was setting herself up for a round of pain. So I clucked and fluffed my wings.

“You’re right. It’s my decision.” She set the dishtowel down and took a deep breath, as if trying to inhale her optimism. “Guess I’m going to have to carve a turkey,” she suddenly announced.

What. The. Fu—

“Out of the pumpkin,” Mina said with a grin.

I knew it right then. Miss Sunshine was going to be the death of me.

Chapter Five

MINA

The storm slammed intothe old farmhouse; a wild thing desperate to break inside. I wiped my hands on a dishtowel and leaned toward the kitchen window. Fat droplets pelted the glass, driven sideways by gusts that twisted the trees in the yard to their limits. The panes rattled in their casements, threatening to give way.

“Looks like we’re in for it.”

The nest I’d built for him in the corner of the living room was a poor substitute for the roost he’d probably known in the forest.Leaving the kitchen, I padded down the hall, my stockinged feet making a soft sound on the worn wood.

His gaze, sharp and watchful, stayed on me as I came nearer. Despite his weakened condition, his eyes held a sharp intellect, a spark that distinguished him from any other injured animal I’d cared for. I bent low and smoothed his tousled feathers.

“Don’t worry,” I murmured. “We’re safe here.”

Thunder rumbled overhead. Thomas fidgeted and made a low, trilling noise.

“Storms aren’t your favorite, are they?” I already knew the answer but asked anyway. He’d likely weathered countless nights in the wild, yet something about this storm left him looking exposed. Or maybe I was just projecting my unease.

The power flickered once, then steadied. I stood up and walked back to the kitchen, hoping to salvage the dough I had been preparing for tomorrow’s baking. Outside, the trees bent low in the gusts of wind, and the sky took on an ominous, darker hue.

The power went out, plunging the house into early twilight. I paused, hands coated in flour, and listened to the wind whip around the eaves.

“Great.” I wiped my hands on my apron and felt my way toward the drawer where I kept the flashlight. A soft rustle behind me made me turn. Thomas must have gotten up from his nest.

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing.”

He let out a chirp.

I found the flashlight and flicked it on. The beam cut through the darkness. Thomas looked up at me.

“Come here, you silly thing,” I said, awkwardly giving him a hug as best I could. These past few days at the farm really brought out his full weight. I directed the flashlight as we made our way around the kitchen.

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