Page 37 of Meadowsweet and Marigold
"Sure. And I'm just a simple country vet, not the guy who stitched you up after you took on those three city Alphas who were harassing the Omega waitress at Rosie's."
Always reminding me of stupid shit…
"That was different."
Not really. Anyone who tries to take advantage of someone deemed “vulnerable” in our society gets shit from me first before the rest of our little pack intervenes. I’m as calm as ever on the outside, but rile me up with injustice and you won’t last long before I’m making them into a problem that needs to be dealt with.
"Was it?" Gus challenges. "You've always had a thing for protecting the wounded ones, Meadow. Not judging…hell, it'sone of your better qualities. Just saying...be careful. That woman's carrying more baggage than meets the eye."
Whatever.
As much as I don’t want to hear it, he’s right. He just met her. Barely knows her. Has no clue what she ran away from to drop whatever hopes, dreams, and career she carried in the city to land her in the midst of Willowbend.
Someone her age shouldn’t even know these parts, which means she learned about this place either from her parents or grandparents.
This place was labeled a safe place…and that’s why she must have ventured here.
Meadow rubs a hand over his face, feeling the day's stubble rough against his palm.
"I know."
"Do you?" Gus's voice softens. "After what happened with Eliza?—"
"Don't." The word comes out sharp enough to cut. "That's not relevant."
The silence stretches between them, laden with unspoken history.
"I'm just looking out for you," Gus finally says.
Meadow sighs, regretting his harsh tone.
"I know. And I appreciate it. But this is different.Professional.She needs space to heal, not another Alpha orAlphascomplicating her life."
Making sure not to give him any ideas either.
We don’t need an Omega right now for our dynamic. We’ve just found balance and peace.
We have to keep it that way.
"If you say so." Gus doesn't sound convinced. "Anyway, I called to let you know those medical supplies you ordered for the stable came in. I can drop them by tomorrow afternoon."
"Thanks." Meadow is grateful for the change of subject. "How's the new clinic coming along?"
They talk for several more minutes about neutral topics — Gus's expanding veterinary practice, the early winter predicted by the almanac, and repairs needed on the fence line separating their properties.
By the time they hang up, the sky outside has deepened to indigo, scattered stars appearing like distant beacons.
Meadow returns to the kitchen serves himself a bowl of stew, and eats standing at the counter, gazing out at the night-shrouded landscape. The food is good —hearty and filling— but he barely tastes it, his mind elsewhere.
Tomorrow, Marigold will step into his daily life, bringing her rain-scent and watchful eyes into the routine he's so carefully constructed.
The thought both unsettles and energizes him.
"Professional," he reminds himself aloud. "Respectful boundaries."
The empty cabin offers no response.
Only the soft ticking of the wall clock marking time's steady advance.
