Page 168 of Mountain Grump
“Thank you.” She takes it from me with an easy smile. “Any visitors this morning?”
I shake my head and add a bit of the hot water to my mug, warming my coffee. “Saw a hawk, but no cats.”
I don’t like that Tilda is worried about mountain lions. But it’s a reasonable worry. They do leave humans alone for the most part, but they aren’t an animal you want to fuck with. And they aren’t an animal you want to try to befriend. Unlike a duck.
Tilda holds her mug in both hands. “I hope Quackers hasn’t left.”
That newly constant desire to smile sinks into my chest.
It’s like she read my mind.
“Pretty sure you had enough food out to last her a week.”
Tilda hums as she takes a sip. “I hope so.”
I debate telling her about the couple I know who practically adopted a bear. Or the other couple who built a whole damn house for a fox. But I decide she doesn’t need encouragement. If I tell her, she’ll probably spend all that inheritance money building a damn duck habitat.
“Hungry?” I put my mug down and pick up the two bowls I set on the ground.
Tilda nods. “Yes, please.”
I set the bowls on the edge of the firepit and add water to each.
Like the coffee, the ingredients are already inside.
Oatmeal. Sugar. And some wild strawberries that I picked this morning.
While the oats soak, I add more water to the kettle and set it back in the fire.
“How come there isn’t a fireplace in the cabin? Too hard to get the materials here?”
“That.” I nod. “But we also have to keep fires small out here. We don’t want anyone seeing the smoke and reporting a wildfire.” I stir the oatmeal.
Tilda is quiet for a long moment, and when I look up, I find her lips pressed together.
I narrow my eyes. “What?”
She loses the battle against her grin. “Will you say it?”
“Say what?”
“You know…” Tilda lifts her brows. “What the bear says.”
“What the bear says?” I tilt my head as I look at my mysterious girl.
She glances at the fire.
And I think I get it.
I shake my head.
Tilda sets her mug down and places her palms together. “Please?”
Grabbing one of the bowls, I stand. And I slowly walk around the fire to Tilda.
She lowers her hands to her lap as she watches me. Her eyes wide. Her expression hopeful.
And I know I’ll do it. Because I’d do anything for my Starlight.
