Page 20 of Wolf's Chance

She turned her head away. She needn’t have bothered; I could almost taste her fear. “Are you going to hurt me?”

“No.”

Willow gave me a look that quite clearly told me she didn’t trust me. Which was fine, because I didn’t trust her either.

“Then why should I be worried?” It was an attempt at bravado, but it fell flat. I could hear her heart racing, I could see the bead of sweat on her brow, and her lips were so dry that her tongue no longer provided any relief, no matter how many times she licked them.

“Because as you pointed out…I lie.”

SIX

Willow

I lie.

Two words that had been rattling around my brain the rest of the week. He told me himself. Caleb hadn’t stayed long after he dropped that bombshell.

If the idea had been for me not to trust him…he’d already won.

My ME was causing me great fatigue this week and, loading my brush with color only to tap it off again, masked the real reason for my snort of derision. I was glad I was alone today, because Lily had been watching me like a hawk. Hovering too close in case I needed support.

I didn’t need it.

Well. I didn’t need it alot. I was grateful for her, in so many ways, but she needed to stop hovering. I was picking up on her anxiety, and it was making me worse.

I hadn’t even told her about Caleb or our conversation. She would have been uncontainable if she knew he’d been in my house. All she knew was that he walked me home as she taskedhim to do. As far as she was concerned, he’d lived up to her expectations, making him a decent guy. Shewaspissed off he hadn’t been seen since.

I hadn’t seen him either, but I was under no illusion that he wasn’tseeingme.

I’d searched the woods behind my house for signs of his campsite. Not-so-subtle inquiries had revealed he wasn’t staying in town. People had seen him during the day, but no one had seen him once it got dark. The general consensus was that he was a hiker, just passing through. The trails up the peak were challenging. It was perfectly natural that he couldn’t do each one per day. He was most likely camping as he hiked.

Only, I had a feeling that he wasn’t.

Caleb Foster had more questions than I had answers, and I knew he wasn’t happy about it. He had been accommodating in that he saw me home. He had been respectful in that he had stayed with me until I was feeling better.

He hadnotbeen courteous. He hadnotbeen kind. He wasnota gentleman.

“But is he bad?” I asked the painting in front of me. I was sick of seeing Caleb, sick of painting or drawing Caleb, so I was forcing myself to paint something different this afternoon. A meadow of wildflowers, kissed by the first rays of the morning sunshine, was supposed to bring me peace and relaxation.

Instead, as I added color to my artwork, I resented the bright cheerful painting. Dropping my brush to my palette, I turned my attention to the window to look outside at the quiet street.

Today was a store day for me. Meaning that instead of painting with students, I painted alone. My store was neverreally busy. Rephrase, my store wasneverbusy. I made a few sales a month from online customers, but it was never going to enable me to retire early.

It was a depressing thought, but also, if I retired early, what would I do all day? Paint? Draw? I did that now.

Pressing my lips together in annoyance at my lackluster nature, I glared at the opposite side of the street. There was nothing to see there—just an empty bench that was hardly ever used. But still, it bore the brunt of my frustrated glare as I thought about Caleb. “Where are you?”

The bench remained empty and silent. Weariness weighed heavily on my shoulders as I picked up my paintbrush. I needed to focus on relaxation.

A positive mindset was a good thing for people with my illness. At least that’s the lie I told myself.

Forcing myself to breathe slowly, I resumed my painting, tiny yellow dots placed randomly to depict buttercups or dandelions. Forcing myself to focus onanythingother than the man on my mind worked for a short time.

When I raised my head again, I looked outside toward the bench, and Caleb was sitting there, staring back at me.

I wasn’t even surprised. It was as if I manifested him into being.

He knew I saw him, and with casual indifference, he stood, and within a few strides he was opening the door and walking into the store.

---