Page 39 of Kings of Decay
"Like what?" Rose set down the magazine by her giant cup of tea.
"Just the history. There's no library closer than Fairbanks, and I want to know more about the local stuff. Like the mining company and the..." I sucked in a breath as I tried to find the courage to keep going.
"The what?"
"The... wolves," I said, hoping she'd catch my drift.
Her expression sobered. "I can't talk about that here," she said, lowering her voice. "Why don't you come over for tea tomorrow, and we can catch up?" She plastered a fake smile on her face as someone walked into the store.
"But," I tried.
The old woman shooed me away. "Sorry, no mail came in today. The plane had trouble," she forced out with surprising volume. "But don't worry, they'll make another trip before the storms come."
"Storms?"
"Have a great day, see you later," she cut me off with a pointed look and hurried off to help the customer look for cereal.
I wouldn't be defeated yet. Rose wanted to help me. I just had to meet her tomorrow. Then, maybe I would get some answers.
Chapter twenty-six
Willow
The next day, I went straight to Rose's house.
It was a small A-frame cabin on the other side of town. She had tall flowerbeds that were probably pretty in the short summer but now were nothing but dirt and dead leaves. A clothesline hung outside with half-frozen bedsheets fluttering in the wind. The house had a rustic charm, evident by the worn wooden porch and window sills decorated with a variety of flowers and herbs where they had the warmth to grow.
I knocked on the door, waiting patiently for an answer.
There was no response.
I noticed a thin swirl of smoke rising from the chimney. She had to be home. No one would leave their fire going.
Rose appeared, walking around to the porch with an armful of firewood.
I let out a tiny gasp and startled her.
"Ah!" The wood fell out of her arms with a crash. "Oh, it's you, Willow."
"I'm so sorry!" I bent down to help her with the firewood.
"Let me help you with that. I didn't mean to startle you."
She smiled, accepting my assistance. "It's quite alright. These old ears don't hear as well as they used to." Once the wood was stacked, she gestured for me to follow her inside.
The cabin was cozy and warm, filled with an array of trinkets and souvenirs, each story revealed in its soft glow. As she poured hot water into a waiting teapot, I glanced around curiously, drinking in the details of her life.
Her three-legged basset hound, Scout, lay sprawled on the cold floor, sleepily flipping his ears back at me as I entered. Buddy's missing leg hadn't seemed to slow him down much, but he was still lazy.
"Rose, I don't mean to intrude. I just need information."
Rose held up a hand to silence me. She didn't say a word until she'd made the tea. She set everything out on the table and motioned for me to sit.
Not knowing what else to do, I obeyed. Her wooden chairs had quilted covers. Almost every soft surface in this place was quilted or knitted.
Rose poured the tea. "I know what you came to ask," she said. "But I want to warn you that poking around will just lead to problems." Rose's voice was sharp, but there was genuine concern in her tone, her piercing blue eyes momentarily locking onto mine.
"What kind of problems?" I asked, taking a tentative sip of the tea Rose had just poured me, the hot liquid soothing my throat.
