Page 15 of Curvy Girl and the Mountain Man Wolf
"She is," I agree, a swell of pride rising in my chest. "She's been through a lot in the past few days, but she's handling it better than I am, honestly."
"Kids are adaptable," he says, ladling stew into bowls. "It's adults who struggle with change."
There's wisdom in the simple statement, and I find myself nodding. "That's very true. I've been so worried about how all this upheaval would affect her, but she seems to be taking it in stride."
"She follows your lead," Kane says, glancing at me briefly. "You're not falling apart, so she doesn't either."
The observation startles me. "I feel like I'm barely holding it together sometimes."
"Doesn't show." His tone is not particularly complimentary, just stating what he sees. "You're strong. She senses that."
Before I can respond to this unexpected assessment, Lily returns, and we sit down to dinner.
Chapter 6 - Kane
"You're strong. She senses that."
The words hang between us for a moment before Lily bounces back into the room, breaking the strange tension. Lois looks away first, a flush rising on her cheeks as she busies herself with setting the last items on the table. I turn back to the stew, cursing myself silently for saying too much.
Why did I tell her that? Why am I allowing these conversations to happen at all? Every word exchanged makes this situation more complicated, creates connections that will only have to be severed when they leave.
We sit down to dinner, the three of us around my small table that has never before hosted a family meal. Lily immediately begins chattering about the wildlife book she was looking at, asking questions about which animals live on the mountain. I answer everything, one part of my mind cataloging the local fauna while the other part watches Lois.
She eats slowly, her movements precise, occasionally reaching over to help Lily with her spoon or napkin. There's a grace to her actions, movements that speak of someone who has learned to manage on her own. Someone who has been both mother and father to her child for some time, I suspect.
"Is there really a mountain lion up here?" Lily asks, pulling my attention back to her.
"Yes," I confirm. "Though they're rare and keep their distance from people."
"What about bears?"
"Black bears, yes. They're in hibernation now, but in summer, they sometimes come close to the cabin looking for food. That's why I keep everything locked up tight."
"What about—"
"Lily," Lois interrupts gently, "let's give Kane a chance to eat his dinner without twenty questions, okay?"
"It's fine," I say, surprising myself again. Why am I encouraging this? "I don't mind."
"Still, we should let you eat in peace. You've been answering questions all day."
Lily sighs but returns to her stew. The cabin falls quiet except for the crackling of the fire and the occasional clink of spoons against bowls. It's not an uncomfortable silence, which is strange in itself. Silence with others has always felt loaded, tense—people waiting for me to speak, to explain myself, to be normal in ways I'm not. But this silence feels... natural.
"This stew is delicious," Lois says after a while. "What's in it?"
"Venison," I reply. "Potatoes, carrots, onions. Herbs from the garden."
"You hunt?" she asks, then immediately shakes her head. "Of course you do. You live up here alone. Sorry, stupid question."
"Not stupid," I correct her. "And yes, I hunt. It's necessary."
"With a rifle?" Lily asks innocently.
The question makes me tense. No, not with a rifle. Not usually. With teeth and claws and instincts that go back thousands of years.
"Sometimes," I say instead, the lie bitter on my tongue. "Depends on the situation."
Lois is watching me closely now, her green eyes thoughtful. She senses the evasion, I think. She's too perceptive not to.
