The Miller Cabin

The northern gate closed quietly behind them.

Almost immediately, the sounds of Wolf Ridge began to fade.

The cheerful laughter…

The ringing of the blacksmith’s hammer…

The smell of fresh bread drifting through the village…

All of it slowly disappeared beneath the whisper of towering pines.

The forest felt different.

Not threatening.

Just…

Older.

Sunlight filtered through the branches in shifting patches of gold.

Birdsong echoed overhead while a gentle breeze carried the scent of damp earth and cedar.

For several minutes, no one spoke.

Rowan walked in front beside the ranger.

Mason followed a few steps behind.

The kitten rode comfortably inside a small canvas satchel slung across Mason’s shoulder.

Only his little orange head peeked over the edge.

“…I still don’t know how this happened,” Mason muttered.

The kitten blinked.

“You were supposed to stay in the office.”

Tiny blink.

“You don’t even work there.”

Tiny purr.

The ranger glanced over his shoulder.

“…Does he always answer you?”

“No.”

“He ignores me.”

“That’s worse.”

“It is.”

⸻

Rowan smiled without looking back.

“How’s our newest deputy doing?”

“He is not a deputy.”

“He seems committed.”

“He’s asleep.”

“I’ve seen deputies do less.”

Mason sighed.

“I knew bringing him was a mistake.”

“You brought him?”

“I…”

Mason stopped walking.

“I…”

He frowned.

“I don’t actually remember picking him up.”

Rowan finally looked back.

“…Really?”

“I remember picking up the reports.”

“Mhm.”

“I remember grabbing my bag.”

“Mhm.”

“I remember Martha handing me coffee.”

“Mhm.”

“I don’t remember…”

He slowly looked toward the tiny orange face peeking from the satchel.

“…you.”

The kitten stretched.

Then tucked himself deeper inside the bag.

Rowan’s smile grew.

“I think you adopted him by accident.”

“I refuse to accidentally adopt anything.”

“You once accidentally brought home a goose.”

“That was one time.”

“It lived with you for six months.”

“It refused to leave.”

“It followed you everywhere.”

“It had issues.”

“It chased me.”

“You deserved it.”

⸻

The ranger blinked.

“…There was a goose?”

“There was a goose.”

“It bit everyone.”

“Mostly Rowan.”

“I was friendly.”

“You wore red.”

“I like red.”

“The goose did not.”

The ranger looked from one wolf to the other.

“…This happens often?”

Both answered at exactly the same time.

Rowan:

“Not really.”

Mason:

“Constantly.”

⸻

The trail narrowed.

Tall ferns brushed against their legs as the forest grew quieter.

The ranger slowed.

“I first noticed the smoke around here.”

He pointed toward a rocky ridge overlooking the valley.

“I watched from up there.”

Rowan studied the terrain.

“Good vantage point.”

“I didn’t want whoever was there to know I’d seen them.”

“You made the right call.”

“I wasn’t sure.”

Rowan nodded.

“You gathered information instead of rushing in.”

The ranger looked relieved.

“I kept wondering if I should’ve gone closer.”

“If someone wants to remain hidden…”

Rowan’s voice stayed calm.

“…sometimes giving them space tells you more than forcing a meeting.”

Mason nodded.

“They’ll eventually make a mistake.”

“Exactly.”

The ranger smiled.

“I’ve never thought about it that way.”

⸻

They continued deeper into the woods.

A squirrel darted across the trail carrying an acorn nearly half its size.

The kitten’s ears immediately perked.

His tiny head whipped back and forth.

Then…

Without warning…

He launched himself out of Mason’s satchel.

“…WHAT?!”

Orange fur shot across the trail.

The squirrel froze.

The kitten froze.

Both stared at one another.

For approximately three very serious seconds…

Neither moved.

Then the squirrel casually climbed the nearest tree.

The kitten looked upward.

Thought about it.

Sat down.

And appeared perfectly content with how events had unfolded.

Mason pinched the bridge of his nose.

“…You escaped.”

The kitten meowed proudly.

“I noticed.”

Rowan laughed.

“I think he believes he successfully defended us.”

“From what?”

“A particularly suspicious squirrel.”

“It had an acorn.”

“You can never be too careful.”

“…You’re impossible.”

“I’ve been told.”

The ranger smiled despite himself.

“I’ve never been on a patrol quite like this.”

Rowan crouched to scoop up the kitten.

“You probably won’t ever be on another one quite like it either.”

The kitten immediately climbed onto Rowan’s shoulder as if he’d rehearsed it.

Mason pointed.

“…See?”

“What?”

“He likes everyone.”

“I thought that was the problem.”

“He has no standards.”

Rowan chuckled.

“I think his standards are just different.”

The kitten rubbed against Rowan’s cheek.

Then…

To everyone’s surprise…

He reached out one tiny paw toward the ranger.

The young wolf hesitated before gently scratching beneath the kitten’s chin.

A soft purr filled the quiet forest.

The ranger smiled.

“I think he likes me.”

Rowan grinned.

“Congratulations.”

“For what?”

“You’ve just been approved by the toughest member of the pack.”

Mason folded his arms.

“Wonderful.”

The ranger laughed.

“I’ll take the honor.”

The mood stayed light…

Easy…

Comfortable…

Until Rowan suddenly stopped walking.

His smile faded.

Not from fear.

From focus.

He slowly knelt beside the trail.

Without a word…

He brushed aside a layer of fallen pine needles.

Fresh tracks.

Large.

Deep.

Not deer.

Not bear.

Wolf.

Mason stepped beside him.

“The ranger wasn’t mistaken.”

“No.”

Rowan studied the prints carefully.

“They’re only a few hours old.”

The forest seemed to grow quieter around them.

Even the birds had stopped singing.

Rowan rose to his feet.

His voice remained calm.

But it carried a quiet certainty.

“We’re close.”

The trail wound steadily uphill.

Towering pines gave way to older hardwoods whose branches stretched like protective arms over the narrow path.

The forest had grown remarkably quiet.

Not empty.

Simply…

Listening.

Mason scanned the trees as they walked.

“Still think it’s one wolf?”

The ranger shook his head.

“I’m honestly not sure anymore.”

“You said the tracks were confusing.”

“They are.”

Rowan glanced down at another set of prints crossing the trail.

Fresh.

Clean edges.

No rain had touched them.

He crouched again.

“These are the same.”

Mason joined him.

“Large.”

“Yes.”

“Adult.”

“Probably.”

“But…”

Rowan brushed a fingertip across the dirt.

“They’re careful.”

The ranger frowned.

“Careful?”

“See how they step?”

Both wolves leaned closer.

The tracks avoided muddy patches.

Broken branches.

Loose rocks.

“They’re minimizing noise,” Mason realized.

Rowan nodded.

“Someone taught them well.”

⸻

A breeze drifted through the trees.

It carried something new.

Smoke.

Not thick.

Not alarming.

Just enough to catch their attention.

The ranger pointed ahead.

“That’s what I smelled.”

Rowan inhaled slowly.

“Hardwood.”

Mason looked at him.

“…You can tell?”

“It’s oak.”

“You can smell oak?”

“It burns differently.”

Mason stared.

“I hate that you’re good at everything.”

“I’m not.”

“You identified firewood from half a mile away.”

“I spend a lot of time camping.”

“You spend a lot of time accidentally helping strangers.”

“That’s different.”

“It really isn’t.”

⸻

Another hundred yards.

The forest began changing.

The undergrowth had been cleared.

Not recently.

Carefully.

Someone had trimmed thorn bushes back from the trail.

Dead limbs had been stacked neatly beside a fallen log.

A narrow drainage ditch guided rainwater away from the path.

Rowan smiled faintly.

“They’ve been busy.”

Mason looked around.

“This wasn’t done overnight.”

“No.”

“Whoever’s here…”

“…plans on staying.”

⸻

The kitten suddenly wriggled in Rowan’s arms.

His little nose twitched.

He sniffed the air once.

Twice.

Then let out the tiniest questioning…

“Mrrp?”

Rowan scratched behind one fuzzy ear.

“What is it?”

The kitten looked toward the trees.

Not frightened.

Curious.

Almost…

Expectant.

⸻

The cabin came into view so gradually that none of them realized they’d reached it.

It wasn’t grand.

Just a modest log cabin tucked into the hillside.

Years ago it had probably been beautiful.

Time had taken its toll.

The roof sagged slightly.

One shutter still hung crooked.

The stone chimney leaned just enough to make Mason uncomfortable.

But…

Someone had been working.

Fresh wooden shingles replaced part of the roof.

The porch had been swept.

Firewood had been stacked with almost obsessive neatness.

A small vegetable garden had begun taking root beside the cabin.

Tomatoes.

Beans.

A few herbs.

Even wildflowers lined the path leading to the porch.

Mason blinked.

“This isn’t hiding.”

“No.”

Rowan’s voice stayed quiet.

“This is someone trying to build a home.”

⸻

No one moved.

The only sound came from the soft crackle of a fire somewhere inside.

Then…

A curtain shifted.

Just enough.

Someone was watching them.

Only for a heartbeat.

Then the curtain fell still again.

The ranger whispered,

“There.”

“I saw.”

Mason nodded.

“So did I.”

No weapons appeared.

No growls.

No threats.

Just silence.

Rowan stepped forward one pace.

He kept his hands relaxed at his sides.

His voice carried easily across the clearing.

“Good afternoon.”

Nothing.

“My name is Rowan.”

Silence.

“I’m Alpha of Wolf Ridge.”

Another pause.

“We noticed someone had moved into the old Miller cabin.”

The forest waited.

“We’re not here to drive anyone away.”

Still nothing.

“We just wanted to make sure you were all right.”

Mason watched the cabin carefully.

No movement.

No answer.

The kitten lifted his tiny head.

His ears perked.

Then…

To everyone’s complete surprise…

He let out one bright, cheerful little…

“Mew!”

The clearing echoed with the tiny sound.

Mason closed his eyes.

“…Of course.”

Rowan bit the inside of his cheek, trying very hard not to smile.

Then…

From inside the cabin…

Came the faintest sound.

Not a growl.

Not footsteps.

Not even a voice.

It sounded…

Like someone laughing.

Just once.

Very quietly.

The four wolves exchanged glances.

Rowan smiled.

Whoever was inside…

Had heard the kitten.

And for just a moment…

They’d forgotten to be afraid.

The clearing settled into silence once more.

Even the breeze seemed reluctant to disturb it.

Rowan remained exactly where he stood.

His hands rested comfortably at his sides.

He didn’t step closer.

He didn’t call again.

He simply waited.

Beside him, Mason quietly observed the cabin.

The repaired roof.

The stacked firewood.

The vegetable garden.

Nothing about the place suggested violence.

Everything suggested…

Someone trying to survive.

Another long moment passed.

Then…

The cabin door creaked open.

Just a few inches.

A pair of cautious green eyes appeared first.

Watching.

Measuring.

Waiting.

The door opened another inch.

Then another.

Finally…

A young woman stepped onto the porch.

She couldn’t have been much older than thirty.

Travel had left its mark.

Her boots were worn nearly smooth.

The sleeves of her flannel shirt had been rolled to her elbows, exposing forearms dusted with scratches from hard work.

Dark brown hair had been hastily tied back with a leather cord, though stubborn curls had escaped around her face.

There was dirt beneath her fingernails.

A smudge of soot rested near one cheek.

Not because she was careless…

Because she’d been repairing a chimney.

She looked tired.

The kind of tired that sleep alone couldn’t fix.

But she stood straight anyway.

One hand rested lightly against the porch railing.

Not reaching for a weapon.

Just…

Ready.

Her gaze settled first on Rowan.

Then Mason.

Then the ranger.

Finally…

The kitten.

“…”

The tiny orange cat looked back at her.

He blinked once.

Then offered an enthusiastic…

“Mew!”

The woman stared.

“…”

“…You brought a kitten?”

Mason answered immediately.

“No.”

Rowan answered at the same time.

“Yes.”

Both looked at each other.

“…”

“…”

The woman smiled.

It wasn’t much.

Just the smallest curve at the corner of her mouth.

But it transformed her whole face.

Mason noticed.

So did Rowan.

It was the first real smile she’d probably worn in a long time.

⸻

Rowan returned it with one of his own.

“I’m Rowan.”

“I know.”

“The ranger told you?”

She nodded.

“I heard your conversation.”

“Fair enough.”

“My name’s Claire.”

Mason gave a polite nod.

“I’m Mason.”

“I guessed.”

“You did?”

“You’ve been watching everything since you arrived.”

“…Occupational hazard.”

“I figured.”

⸻

Rowan glanced toward the cabin.

“You’ve done a lot of work.”

Claire instinctively looked over her shoulder.

“It needed it.”

“It did.”

“I wasn’t sure anyone would mind.”

“The Millers have been gone a long time.”

She lowered her eyes.

“I know.”

Silence settled again.

Not uncomfortable.

Just careful.

Finally Rowan asked the question.

“May I ask why you chose this place?”

Claire didn’t answer immediately.

Instead…

She looked toward the forest behind the cabin.

Then toward the little garden.

Then the smoke drifting peacefully from her chimney.

When she finally spoke…

Her voice was almost too quiet to hear.

“It was empty.”

Rowan nodded.

“Yes.”

“I needed somewhere no one would look.”

Mason’s expression softened just a fraction.

Not because he’d learned everything.

Because he’d learned enough.

This wasn’t someone hiding to hurt others.

This was someone hiding…

From something.

⸻

The kitten suddenly wriggled free from Rowan’s arms.

“Mason—”

“I’m aware.”

Tiny orange paws hit the ground.

Claire froze.

The kitten trotted happily across the clearing.

Past Rowan.

Past Mason.

Straight toward the porch.

“…”

“…”

“…”

Claire slowly knelt.

The kitten stopped directly in front of her boots.

He looked up.

She looked down.

For one impossibly long second…

Neither moved.

Then…

Very gently…

She reached out one finger.

The kitten leaned forward…

And rubbed his tiny head against it.

Claire laughed.

Not loudly.

Not dramatically.

Just one soft, surprised laugh that sounded wonderfully genuine.

“Oh…”

She whispered.

“Hello, little one.”

The kitten answered with a deep, satisfied purr.

Rowan glanced sideways at Mason.

“You know…”

“No.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were about to.”

“I was just thinking…”

“No.”

“…he seems to have excellent judgment.”

Mason sighed.

“I walked into that.”

Claire looked up, confused.

“I’m sorry…”

Rowan smiled.

“The kitten has a habit of deciding who belongs.”

Claire looked back down at the tiny orange ball now rolling onto his back, demanding attention.

“I think…”

She scratched gently beneath his chin.

“…I might like him.”

Mason folded his arms.

“That makes one of you.”

The kitten purred even louder.

Claire laughed again.

This time…

It came easier.

And for just a moment…

The weight she’d been carrying seemed lighter.

⸻

Rowan saw it.

He always noticed moments like that.

Not the laugh itself…

But what it meant.

Someone who hadn’t expected kindness…

Had just laughed because of it.

He smiled gently.

“We brought coffee.”

Claire blinked.

“You…”

“…brought coffee?”

“And fresh bread.”

Martha had wrapped both carefully before they’d left.

Claire looked genuinely bewildered.

“I thought…”

She stopped herself.

“What?”

“I thought if anyone found me…”

She swallowed.

“…they’d tell me to leave.”

Rowan’s smile never changed.

Instead, he simply held out the basket.

“First things first.”

Claire looked at the bread.

Then the coffee.

Then the three wolves standing in her yard.

Finally…

Very quietly…

She asked,

“…Who are you people?”

Rowan chuckled.

“We ask ourselves that at least once a week.”

For a long moment…

No one moved.

Claire stood on the porch with one hand wrapped around the warm mug Rowan had offered.

The steam curled lazily into the afternoon air.

She looked at it as though she’d forgotten coffee could simply be…

Given.

Without conditions.

Without suspicion.

Without expecting something in return.

Finally…

She took one cautious sip.

Her eyes closed.

“Oh…”

The word escaped before she could stop it.

Rowan smiled.

“Good?”

Claire looked down into the mug.

“I don’t think I’ve had coffee this good in…”

She stopped.

“…It’s been a while.”

“I’ll let Martha know.”

“Martha made it?”

“Martha makes almost everything.”

“The bread too?”

“Yes.”

Claire laughed softly.

“I was wondering.”

⸻

Mason quietly looked toward the cabin.

“You’ve repaired more than half the roof.”

Claire nodded.

“It leaked.”

“I noticed.”

“I figured I’d fix it before the next storm.”

“You did good work.”

She looked genuinely surprised.

“You think so?”

“I wouldn’t have done it differently.”

For some reason…

That compliment seemed to mean more than any of the others.

She nodded once.

“Thank you.”

⸻

Rowan wandered toward the vegetable garden.

Not to inspect it.

Just…

To admire it.

He crouched beside a row of tomato plants.

“They’re healthy.”

“I’ve been lucky.”

“You’ve been working hard.”

Claire smiled faintly.

“A little of both.”

Rowan brushed a fingertip across one leaf.

“You even planted herbs.”

“They keep rabbits away.”

“They don’t always.”

“They haven’t told my rosemary yet.”

Rowan laughed.

“I like that answer.”

⸻

The kitten had decided the porch was now his kingdom.

He marched proudly across every loose board.

Investigated every flowerpot.

Attempted to stalk a butterfly.

Missed by an impressive margin.

Then dramatically flopped onto his side beneath Claire’s rocking chair.

Mason watched the performance.

“…He’s exhausting.”

Claire looked down.

“I think he’s happy.”

“I think he’s unemployed.”

“I don’t believe kittens have careers.”

“This one interferes with administration.”

“That sounds important.”

“It was.”

⸻

For the first time…

Claire laughed without hesitation.

It was warm.

Natural.

The kind of laugh that hadn’t been heard in this little clearing for far too long.

Rowan noticed.

Of course he did.

⸻

He finally asked quietly,

“How long have you been here?”

Claire thought for a moment.

“Twenty-three days.”

Mason blinked.

“You counted.”

“I count everything.”

“Why?”

“…Because moving around all the time makes days run together.”

The smile faded from her face.

“If I stop counting…”

She looked toward the forest.

“…sometimes I forget where I’ve been.”

Silence settled gently over the porch.

Not awkward.

Understanding.

⸻

Rowan sat on the porch step.

Far enough away to give her space.

Close enough that she wouldn’t have to raise her voice.

“You don’t have to tell us anything you aren’t ready to.”

Claire looked at him.

“You mean that?”

“I do.”

“I thought…”

She looked between all three wolves.

“…there’d be rules.”

“There are.”

Her shoulders tensed.

Rowan smiled.

“The first one’s easy.”

She waited.

“If you’re hungry…”

He handed her another piece of Martha’s bread.

“…eat.”

Claire stared at the bread for a long moment.

Then quietly accepted it.

⸻

The ranger shifted awkwardly.

“I should probably head back before dark.”

Rowan nodded.

“You’ve done excellent work.”

“I just reported what I found.”

“And you found someone who needed neighbors.”

The ranger smiled.

“I hadn’t thought about it like that.”

“You will now.”

⸻

After the ranger disappeared down the trail, the clearing grew peaceful again.

Just four souls…

One kitten…

And the quiet sounds of the forest.

Claire looked toward the cabin.

“I’ve been alone for a long time.”

No one interrupted.

“I almost forgot…”

She smiled sadly.

“…what ordinary conversation sounded like.”

Rowan nodded.

“I know the feeling.”

Mason looked over.

“You do?”

“There were a few years after my parents died.”

His voice stayed gentle.

“I was surrounded by people.”

“But I still felt alone.”

Claire’s eyes softened.

“You understand.”

“I understand enough.”

⸻

The kitten chose that exact moment to climb into Claire’s lap.

She instinctively wrapped one arm around him.

Without thinking.

Without hesitation.

Mason noticed.

So did Rowan.

The kitten began purring immediately.

Claire looked embarrassed.

“I didn’t mean to…”

Rowan smiled.

“I think he made the decision for you.”

Mason muttered,

“He does that.”

⸻

A breeze stirred through the pines.

The rocking chair creaked softly.

For the first time since they’d arrived…

The cabin didn’t feel abandoned anymore.

It felt…

Occupied.

Lived in.

Hopeful.

Rowan stood.

“We should head back before sunset.”

Claire looked up quickly.

“Oh.”

The single word carried more disappointment than she intended.

She quickly looked away.

“I understand.”

Rowan smiled kindly.

“We’re coming back tomorrow.”

Claire blinked.

“You are?”

“If that’s all right with you.”

She looked around the quiet clearing.

At the little garden.

The repaired roof.

The kitten sleeping peacefully in her lap.

Then back at Rowan.

“I’d…”

She hesitated.

“I’d like that.”

Rowan nodded once.

“Good.”

As Mason turned to leave, he glanced back over his shoulder.

Claire was still sitting in the rocking chair…

Absentmindedly stroking the kitten’s tiny head.

For just a second…

She looked less like someone hiding.

And more like someone beginning to believe she might not have to anymore.

The forest welcomed them with the familiar sounds of late afternoon.

Birds called to one another high in the branches.

A breeze stirred the leaves overhead.

Behind them…

The Miller cabin slowly disappeared between the trees until it became little more than another quiet part of the mountain.

No one spoke for several minutes.

The kitten slept soundly inside Mason’s satchel.

Apparently exhausted from an afternoon of diplomacy.

Finally…

Rowan broke the silence.

“I like her.”

Mason sighed.

“I knew that was coming.”

“I really do.”

“I gathered.”

“She’s brave.”

Mason nodded once.

“She is.”

⸻

Another few yards passed.

Rowan stepped over a fallen log.

“You noticed the roof.”

“I did.”

“You noticed the drainage ditch.”

“I did.”

“You noticed the stacked firewood.”

“I did.”

“You noticed the repaired porch.”

“I did.”

“You notice everything.”

Mason shrugged.

“It’s my job.”

Rowan smiled.

“You know what I noticed?”

Mason already knew he wasn’t going to like the answer.

“What?”

“She laughed.”

Mason looked over.

“…That’s what you noticed?”

“It was the first genuine laugh she’d had in a while.”

“You know that?”

“I think so.”

Mason thought about it.

Then quietly admitted…

“…Yeah.”

⸻

They continued walking.

The trail curved gently downhill.

Golden sunlight slipped between the trees, painting long shadows across the forest floor.

After another minute…

Rowan spoke again.

“She expected us to tell her to leave.”

“She did.”

“That made me sad.”

“I know.”

“I don’t like people feeling like they have to hide.”

Mason looked toward his friend.

“You never have.”

“No.”

⸻

A squirrel darted across the path carrying yet another acorn.

Rowan watched it disappear.

“I think that’s the same squirrel.”

“It isn’t.”

“It might be.”

“It definitely isn’t.”

“…He looked familiar.”

Mason chuckled.

“You’re impossible.”

“I’ve been told.”

⸻

They walked another hundred yards before Rowan casually asked,

“So…”

Mason groaned.

“…No.”

“I haven’t asked anything yet.”

“You’ve started with ‘so.’”

“I have.”

“That means trouble.”

“It usually does.”

⸻

Rowan folded his hands behind his back.

“What did you think of Claire?”

Mason answered without hesitation.

“Capable.”

“Mhm.”

“Observant.”

“Mhm.”

“Resourceful.”

“Mhm.”

“Independent.”

“Mhm.”

“Clearly knows how to survive.”

“Mhm.”

Rowan nodded thoughtfully.

“Anything else?”

Mason frowned.

“I don’t think so.”

“You sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

“Hmm.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Rowan.”

“Hm?”

“You’re smiling.”

“I am.”

“Stop it.”

⸻

They walked in silence for another minute.

Then Rowan spoke with complete innocence.

“You complimented her roof.”

“I inspected her repairs.”

“You complimented her.”

“I complimented craftsmanship.”

“You said you wouldn’t have done it differently.”

“It was accurate.”

“You don’t hand out compliments very often.”

Mason opened his mouth.

Closed it again.

“…”

“…”

“…That doesn’t count.”

“It counted to her.”

⸻

Mason rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“You’ve been thinking about this since we left.”

“I started thinking about it when you complimented the chimney.”

“I complimented the masonry.”

“Mhm.”

“The porch.”

“Mhm.”

“The garden.”

“Mhm.”

“The drainage.”

“Mhm.”

“I appreciate competence.”

“I know.”

“That’s all.”

“I know.”

“…”

“…”

“…You’re still smiling.”

“I am.”

⸻

The trees began thinning as Wolf Ridge came into view through the branches below.

Smoke curled peacefully from dozens of chimneys.

Someone was ringing the dinner bell.

The familiar sounds of home drifted toward them.

Rowan stopped walking.

His smile softened.

“You know…”

“What?”

“I think today was important.”

Mason looked at him.

“Because we found someone?”

“Because someone found us.”

The words settled quietly between them.

Mason looked back toward the forest.

Toward the hidden cabin.

“…You think she’ll stay?”

“I hope so.”

“So do I.”

The answer came so naturally…

He didn’t realize he’d said it.

Rowan did.

Of course he did.

He simply smiled.

“I know.”

Mason blinked.

“…What?”

“You hope she stays.”

“I meant…”

“I know what you meant.”

“…”

“…”

“…Stop seeing things.”

“I can’t.”

“It’s annoying.”

“So I’ve heard.”

⸻

They resumed walking.

Only a few yards remained before reaching the gate.

Then Rowan spoke one last time.

Very quietly.

“You looked less worried when she smiled.”

Mason stopped.

Actually stopped.

The kitten’s little head popped out of the satchel in surprise.

“I…”

He searched for words.

“I…”

Nothing came.

Rowan didn’t tease him.

Didn’t grin.

Didn’t laugh.

He simply rested a hand on Mason’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to figure it out today.”

Then he walked through the gate.

Leaving Mason standing alone on the path.

Looking back toward the forest.

Toward a little cabin tucked between the pines.

Toward a woman he’d known for less than an afternoon…

Yet somehow already hoped would still be there tomorrow.

From somewhere behind him…

Martha’s voice floated across the square.

“Rowan?”

“Yes, Martha?”

“How many for supper?”

Rowan smiled.

Without even turning around.

“I’d set one more place.”

Mason looked toward him.

“…Rowan.”

“What?”

“We don’t even know if she’s coming.”

“I know.”

“…”

“…”

“…Set one anyway.”

Martha didn’t hesitate.

“I already did.”

Rowan laughed.

“I thought you might.”

Mason slowly looked toward the evening sky.

Then quietly muttered to himself…

“I am surrounded by impossible people.”

The kitten stretched…

Rubbed his tiny head against Mason’s chin…

And purred.