Page 45 of The Naughty Elf

Ginger stands, arms folded in a contemplative way as we walk toward the edge of the trees. I catch sight of her own small smile before I refocus my attention on Gracie. She’s nimble and smart about where she steps as she leads me down to the river’s edge.

She walks confidently up to the edge of the water and sets up her hook with bait, then casts the line out into the water. I watch her technique as she reels in the line and explains again what she is doing. She’s very good at this, and I find myself drawn into the lessons that she’s teaching.

“Want to try?” she asks me, sounding like her usual self now that she’s been distracted from the chaos of our upsetting wake-up call.

“Sure,” I agree. I step up beside her and she shows me how to cast the line and explains where you should try to cast and why. I get involved in the lesson and have fun with her as she teaches me a new skill.

“Good,” she praises me once I’m able to actually complete a successful cast.

She beams at me, and I find myself enjoying the process of being taught how to catch our breakfast. When I finally catch a fish, we all cheer as I reel it in.

“Let’s see if we can get one more and then go back to eat,” Ginger says.

Once we have caught our second fish, we start walking back to the campsite.

Ginger grabs some chicory on the way, explaining that we can brew into a coffee substitute that will help warm us up.

While we clean the fish, Ginger cleans up every trace of the spoiled food. Her cheeks are pink, her hair a little wild, and she’s absolutely breathtaking.

It’s like stumbling upon an elf in her natural habitat.

“You’re good at this camping stuff,” Gracie tells me and then nudges my shoulder with hers. I crack a smile at this.

“You guys are good teachers.”

She points to the catch in my grip. “I don’t think that’s really enough to feed all of us, but we should be okay if we let him have a whole fish to himself.”

Ginger plants her hands on Gracie’s shoulders and leans down to plant a kiss on the side of her head. “You’re such a goose, but I think you might be right.”

They are one hundred percent right, but I’m not going to confirm that for them.

Ginger stands and meets my gaze. She sends all of her warmth my way. “I guess we’ll have to change that when we get home.”

Yes. Please. Because I’m hungry for a lot of things. Mostly, a lot more of her.

Waking up with her against me seems like days ago already.

I snap out of my reverie and look at Gracie, who is smiling up at me with the crooked version of her mother’s smile. “You know how to cook these?”

She nods, and I move away from the campsite.

“We don’t need much more firewood,” Ginger calls as I move into the tree line.

These two are so at home out here, and I’m a little surprised. Yet, not really. Given Bennett owns a ranch.

And she doesn’t shy away from the blood and guts involved in cooking freshly-caught food. I watch them covertly as I collectwood for the fire. They are seasoning the fish with some of the unmolested items from our food cache and setting up the kindling to get the fire going.

Gracie stands diligently over the smoking kindling, blowing on it as I bring back some wood to add to the fire. Her smile is fast becoming my favorite reward.

Ginger trails a hand down my arm affectionately. Everythingshegives me feels like a reward.

“Come on. Let’s cook this and eat so we can head out.”

It doesn’t take much convincing. I’ll follow her wherever she wants, so long as I’m invited.

We coax the fire hotter, and Ginger roasts the fish. I heat up a smaller pan, and they show me how to cook the acorns in boiling water. We change the water out a few times, but by the time the fish is done, the acorns are, too.

Breakfast is lowkey. The girls are quiet as we eat, and the sounds of nature fills my heart with peace. I’ve been so restless lately. But this—this soothes me.

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