Page 11 of Unforgivable

"Should I get a hat for her?"

Growling, Thjis turns away from both of the other males and kicks open the exterior door. It's chilly, the wind blowing in, whipping my hair into my face.

A hat is tugged on my head, the soft, warm cotton bringing immediate relief from the wind gushing through the open door.

A calloused hand gently smooths my hair back, tucking it under the hat so it's out of my face.

"There," Rhet says. "Have fun." He turns and walks back into rooms in the house that I've never been.

Thjis' hair tickles my cheek as we walk outside. It's long and unkempt as if he just doesn't care about it. The beard doesn't help the image of a wild-mountain wolf.

His hair is long, too. She likes long hair. I overheard him laughing about how he doesn't like it, but he keeps it long for her.

I've never liked long hair on males. I prefer it short.

I hide my face in Thjis' chest as a particularly strong gust of wind slaps us. I want to peek out to see their land, but my eyes are filled with tears, and everything is a blur.

The wind cuts off abruptly, warm making me sigh in pleasure. I pick my head up and smile at the cows. "Oh, they're so pretty!" I say.

"Look over here, Lyri!" Ezra's voice pulls my eyes away from the calf-brown ones blinking lazily to see the most adorable little twin calves. White with brown spots, they are growing in their winter coats, the hair growing in tufts that make them look like little pups that just rolled out of bed.

"This is Tweedle Dee, and this is Tweedle Dum," Ezra boasts, patting the calves on their backs.

"Can I go closer?" I ask Thjis without taking my eyes off of the babies.

He strides forward silently. I reach one arm out of the blanket and pet the calf, Dee, I think, on the nose.

"They're late calves. We had four calves in the spring, but their mama decided to get knocked up late. Our bull kinda likes to break into their grazing pen. Asshole," Ezra says cheerfully.

Ezra tells me about the cows, and their bull, Rocky, as I pat the calves while nestled in Thjis' arms. I'm worried that I'll be too heavy for him, but I'm the one that gives in first.

My eyes are heavy, but I keep petting Dum, who is happily chewing on the ends of the blanket. Now I know why they keep this blanket in the mudroom.

"Time to go back, Lyri," Thjis turns, despite my sleepy protest. Before we leave the barn, Ezra tucks the blanket around my entire head, shielding me from the wind that sounds way worse than when we walked out. I vaguely hear Ezra shout something about a blizzard. Thjis answers, his chest rumbling next to my ear.

We walk back inside and the blanket comes off, revealing snow dusting Thjis' shoulders and head.

"Winter is coming," I quote Game of Thrones with a sigh.

The smallest smile crosses Thjis' face. He must be a fan.

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I pounce on the cards in the center of the table. "Four points for me!" I crow.

Inuit pouts, looking for all the world like a pup half his age. "Not fair! You always win!"

"Don't be a sore loser, In," Ezra says absently from his cot. He's sprawled across the entire thing, his feet dangling off of the edge as he taps his pencil on the documents in his hands.

"What are you working on, Ez?" I ask out of curiosity.

"Bills, baby, bills." He makes a notation, then enters something on his laptop. "We're trying to see how many calves we may want to buy in the spring."

"Ezra's trying to see if we have enough money for sheep," Rhet's voice is filled with laughter.

I look up to see blue-eyes lounging in my doorway. "Hi, Rhet," I greet him shyly.

"Hi, pretty," he greets in return. He wanders over, looking down at the cards, "Poker?"

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