His to Claim

“Ugh!”

The sound of paper ripping broke the silence in the early dawn. Isobel flung the canvas paper on the porch. A heavy sigh lifted her shoulders, her hands covering her face. She thought that coming to her grandfather’s cabin, nestled in the Rocky Mountains in Colorado, would help her with her mental block. She needed to paint or she’ll miss her deadline. 

Her dark brown eyes gazed up the blue tinted mountains where the sun rose, bathing the ragged stone with its orange rays. The lush forest was still dark blue, as the sun hadn’t risen enough to coat them with its light. Such a majestic view that she had hoped to capture in acrylic, but her mind was fighting her and she was losing the battle. 

A rustling noise made her turn her head toward the river that ran through near her grandfather’s remote cabin. Her throat clamped shut as if her heart was jammed in it. Isobel stepped back, her hand on her chest. Her breaths are short and heavy, forming puffs of smoke in the cold air.

The creature stood on the other side of the river. Its fur looked dark in the twilight, but its golden eyes pierced the dim light that was rising from the sun.

A wolf. Her mind registered. A massive wolf. Standing at seven feet, its body bulky with fur and flesh. Her feet touched the step of the cabin door. Reaching behind her, she clasped the door handle and pushed it open. Moving backwards so that she didn’t turn her body from the wolf, she inched inside. Her movements were slow, so that she didn’t bring the creature’s attention to her. Pausing before she shut the door, Isobel noticed the wolf’s yellowish eyes on her. Its head tilted to the side. Her heart jumped. She thought she detected an unnatural intelligence shining in those bright eyes before the door blocked it out of her sight. Pressing her back against the closed door, she took in deep breaths. 

Damn! In her haste to get away from the unnaturally enormous wolf, she had forgotten her painting canvas outside on the porch. Taking slow steps on the creaking wooden floors, she moved to the windows. Sliding the curtains back, she peeped through. Biting back a curse, she dropped the curtains and plopped down on her grandfather’s favorite recliner chair. The damn wolf had settled down near the riverside, right across from her door.

Settling into the chair, she breathed in her grandfather’s scent of cigars, coffee and the bourbon he used to enjoy at the end of the day. Her eyes stung with gathering tears. It had been two months since his death and she missed him dearly. Isobel came to the cabin to pack up his mementos and decide what to do with his cabin. He had left it to her, saying in the will that he hoped it would bring joy to her like it did to him.

The risen sun streamed through the thin curtains, bathing the room in a golden hue. The rustic wooden walls are lined with wooden planks broken up by a stone fireplace. A faint smoky aroma drifts from the fire, bringing a cozy atmosphere to the space. A hand-woven rug covers the floor, and a table sat in-between two couches. Her grandfather’s hunting and fishing gear hung on the walls and pictures of her family lined the walls. Brushing away a tear that slid down her cheek, she smiled at a picture that showed her grandfather beaming, holding a Rainbow Trout.

“I miss you,” she whispered to his picture. “Help me paint granddaddy, because I haven’t been able to since you left us.” She lost the battle against holding back the tears and a broken sob left her mouth. Curling her legs to her chest, her cries rocked her body.