Page 26 of Harvest Moon

Ridge

The Hills’ farm bordered the woods north of town, so it was plenty easy to take my bundle of clothes in my fangs and go back toward my new home. At the edge of the field, I shifted back to two legs and got dressed so I wouldn’t treat the Hills to a show before we even knew each other proper. Most werewolves weren’t too persnickety about that kind of thing, but it didn’t do to go strutting around naked before you got to know a person. I’d never been the kind of wolf especially comfortable with that.

It was a good run, best I’d felt in a long while, really. Ever since coming home to find out everything I’d been counting on was being pulled away. There was plenty of sniffing and howling and only one alpha got it in his head to growl at me—some big, brownish-blond creature I was pretty sure was the guy who’d gotten buckass naked in the middle of The Cider House—but I’d walked away from him before anybody started snapping. No way I wanted to start fighting with alphas my first night in the area.

Only thing that kept the run from being perfect was that Alexis never showed up. He’d always loved to run, loved the wild, and once I was back on two feet with my head back in my human emotions, not my animal instincts, I worried that he only hadn’t come out because of me.

Thing was, I’d never expected him to be unhappy to see me, and I was pretty damn sure he didn’t want me in Grovetown or anywhere near his new pack. But if they were having troubles with another violent pack, I couldn’t just leave him there. Maybe I could leave him be, stay until matters were settled with the Reids, and if Lexis still wanted me gone, well, then I’d skirt off. Wasn’t sure where I’d go, but I didn’t want to make him unhappy when he’d found somewhere he fit so well.

Everybody at the farmhouse had already gone to bed, but there was one light up on the second floor. Maybe Ford’s. Mr. and Mrs. Hill said they were on the first floor—bad knees and stairs weren’t friendly.

I went on up to bed, trying to stay quiet, and nobody else in the house made a sound as I got ready. Still, even after running, I had a hard time getting to sleep, like all my edges were pushing up against the sharp sides of a hole I didn’t fit in.

This was probably why some people stayed in school all their lives—getting degree after degree after degree, because the place they’d been before all that schooling wasn’t the same as when they’d left it. I hoped that wasn’t my path. If there wasn’t a spot in the world for me as a farmer, I didn’t see how me becoming a doctor of dirt would help matters one bit.

In the morning, I showered and went down to breakfast, where I laid eyes on Ford McKesson for the first time. He was an alpha, maybe a decade and a half older than me, and he looked plumb tired. There were bags under his eyes, an edge to his look that made it seem like any second now, he’d spring into his fur and take off into the trees.

His honey-brown hair was going a little gray, and his cheeks were hollow in a way that didn’t look quite healthy.

If the man didn’t reek of alpha, I’d almost have thought he had the Condition, what with how drained he looked. But omegas weren’t the only ones affected. According to Mr. Hill, this man had lost his mate and their baby all at once. Maybe he wasn’t sick in quite the same way, but any alpha without an omega risked losing their grip. An alpha who’d had a mate and lost her? There wasn’t anything out there that’d fix that kind of heartbreak.

I couldn’t blame him for one second for letting the world beat him down after something like that. I couldn’t even imagine.

“Ford?” I asked, walking up to the table and sticking out my hand. “I’m Ridge Paterson.”

“Henrik mentioned.” He nodded toward Mr. Hill. Even if he was short-spoken, he shook my hand, and that was plenty. I could certainly understand a guy who appreciated silence.

Barbara smiled at me as she ladled eggs and bacon onto my plate at the table, and I settled in my chair. Mr. Hill sat across from me, paper open in front of his steaming mug of coffee.

“I was thinking Ford could show you the ropes today,” Barbara said, heaping my plate full, then moving onto Ford’s. “Like we said yesterday, Henrik and I have stepped back from most things, and Ford handles the day-to-day running of the farm. He can tell you best what he needs help with, where we want to improve things.”

Improve things—well, that sounded great. Just what I was there for. “I’m eager to see where I can help y’all expand, ma’am.”

There was a little line between Ford’s brows as he looked at me, but after a second, he nodded. “We’re grateful for the help.”

After a quiet breakfast, Ford took me out into the yard. I’d gotten a bit of a look around the day before, but between Linden dragging me over here for the first time, then the Grove pack meeting, I hadn’t been in any kind of state to assess anything.

Their farm was about the size my family’s had been—a little bigger and a little better run though.

That was all thanks to Ford. Even after losing his wife and daughter, Ford had looked out at all this land and refused to give up. The Hills needed it running to make a living and take care of each other and the pack, so Ford had set himself to the task.

It was damn impressive, and it pricked in my chest when I wondered what I could’ve done with my parents’ place if they’d just given me a little time.

“You still planting for the fall?” I asked as we leaned against the fence around the goat pen. One thing the Hills had that my parents hadn’t bothered with was plenty of livestock. They had horses, pigs, little fuzzy goats, and even chickens. Living out here, you might never have to go to the grocery store again.

Ford sniffed and nodded. “Still lots to plant. Gourds and kale and all sorts of things. We usually sell down at the Ambrosia Market. Did you see it when you came into town?”

I shook my head.

“I’ll take you by sometime this week, introduce you to the grocer. Good guy, Isaac. Maybe you could take deliveries to him.”

As sure as I was that Ford just didn’t want to see people, it was still nice to be given a place to fit in and something to do. Eager as anything, I nodded. “Be happy to do that.”

Ford cleared his throat and dangled his hand in the goat pen. One of the kids came up and sniffed his palm, bumping its forehead against his fingers. His lips twitched a little.

“You like it out here?” I asked before I thought better of it.

For a second, he scowled at me, and I worried he was going to say he didn’t like anything anywhere. Then, he shrugged.

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