The Things We Water

It wasn’t very nice, but I was this freaking close to groaning the next morning when I walked into the kitchen, because sitting at one of the islands were Franklin, the elder woman with the silver-blue hair, and the cyclops elder whose name I still didn’t know.

“Morning,” I greeted them, trying not to sound reluctant while I went over all the reasons they might be here this morning. I didn’t think I’d pissed anyone off too bad answering Henri’s phone. I hadn’t taught the kids any bad words either.

Was it something about the dreams? Or the gnomes? Other than Henri, no one else had brought them up with me after that first visit.

“Good morning,” the cyclops began to greet me before the woman, named Ema, cut the BS before I’d even made it halfway into the kitchen.

“We were hoping to discuss—” she started to say.

“An incident was brought to our attention regarding some unauthorized visitors,” the cyclops announced, cutting her off with a side look.

“What—” Oh. I tapped into my inner Henri and kept my face blank to finish my question. “Visitors?” It wasn’t that I was playing dumb, I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page.

“That’s what we’d like for you to tell us. Another resident informed us that they came across a peculiar scent, as well as yours,” Cyclops answered.

It was only at that point that I noticed the dirty glare Franklin was aiming at the cyclops and Ema. He was annoyed. For the twentieth time, minimum, I wondered what was going on with him. Last night during dinner, he’d been extra quiet, his body language had come across as tense, and he’d left the kitchen the second he’d finished eating.

Even Henri had mentioned how off he’d been acting, but he’d assumed that Franklin had been mad at him for leaving overnight without a warning.

“A resident told you they smelled me and someone else?” I asked, mostly just to see what they knew.

“Yes,” the cyclops answered. “In the forest, close to our residences. That’s an expressly forbidden⁠—”

I glanced at Duncan lingering by my feet, my boy tall and gangly, and I couldn’t help but smile down at him and his smiling face.

LOVE, I tried to tell him.

One of his ears twitched.

Dragging my attention back to the elders, I wondered where Henri was. After he’d gotten home the day before—and kissed me, which I was still overthinking and yet trying not to think about—he’d surprised the crap out of me by sticking close by for the rest of the afternoon and evening.

It had been so nice.

We’d spent another hour outside with the kids, where he’d helped me judge their gymnastics by drawing his own score right next to mine. Then he’d followed us to the nursery and spent the next couple of hours in there, which all the kids had been over the freaking moon for. A few of the youngest puppies had even cried while they’d climbed into his lap and tried to claw their way up to his face. It had been so dang cute, I’d taken pictures.

We’d had dinner together later on, then a call had come through that had drawn him away, but we’d met up outside with Agnes and Duncan to play tag and have popsicles before bed.

And the whole time he’d acted like he hadn’t kissed me on the mouth. He’d acted like normal, likeable Henri. A Henri who treated me like I was every other person in the world.

It was a travesty—one I wanted to analyze under a microscope but wouldn’t. Because if he was going to act like it hadn’t happened, then so would I. I could pretend he wasn’t giving me mixed signals.

I could pretend him putting his lips on mine was no big deal.

The point was, I didn’t think there had been time at any point between the bogeymen and now for him to tell anyone about the incident. Now someone had ratted only me out? It kind of seemed like some BS to me.

“We would like to hear your side of the story before we discuss the situation,” Cyclops ended.

Franklin’s glare toward the other elders went chilly. Even his tone had frost hanging off the syllables when he said, “There’s no need for threats, Yiannis.”

Was he defending me?

The cyclops looked insulted. “I am not threatening anyone.”

The man, who I thought might be my new champion, scoffed. “Do you not hear yourself? To make the situation worse, you won’t tell us who approached you with this rumor. If you can demand to speak to Nina about it, I can demand to speak to the gossip.”

“I don’t see why that information is necessary,” the cyclops argued.

Not knowing what to do, I held up my hand like I was back in elementary school, and that was enough to get all three of the elders’ attentions. “I don’t need to know who tried ratting me out, but I don’t think I did anything wrong,” I rushed out. “I’ll tell you what happened. I don’t want to pack our bags.”noveldrama

“Why would you need to pack your bags?”

A body that could only belong to one man came up beside me, and I almost did a double take at the uniform that had to have been poured over Henri. Black pants and a polo shirt had never looked better on anyone in history. I think I had a new favorite outfit over football uniforms.

Then I remembered how his mouth had felt touching mine, and I smiled at him, but tried to keep it within reason.

“Did you hear everything, or do you want me to tell you what happened?” You never knew with him.

His eyelids dropped low over his light-colored eyes as his arm brushed mine. “I meant it more along the lines that you didn’t do anything worth packing your bags over.” His eyes slid across the elders at the island, his expression melting into his flat one. His tone was thick. “Who was it?”

There was an odd moment of silence.

“Hello, Henri, I don’t see how that’s relevant,” the cyclops answered with a sniff.

The increasingly familiar feel of Henri’s palm skimmed up my spine to land just short of my nape. “It is when they left out one important fact in their story. If they could sense the ‘other’ being and could recognize Nina in the same place, then there’s no way they wouldn’t have been able to tell I was with her the entire time.”

The cyclops didn’t look so comfortable all of a sudden. “You were together?”

“Who do you think invited her to come along? I got the call, and you can contact the greenskeeper who was on duty, because I can’t remember which one I spoke to, to confirm. Nina rode over there with me and helped me take care of the issue,” he explained in a low, steady voice. “It was an unauthorized visit, we dealt with it, and the visitors left. If there’s a problem with that, then there’s a problem with my decision-making it sounds like.”

Franklin shifted in his seat, still irritated with the cyclops, but more interested in what Henri had finished admitting. “Who were the visitors?”

“Two bogeymen,” Henri answered.

“Bogeymen? Here? Why?” the woman elder squawked, alarmed.

Amber irises found mine, and I shrugged. It wasn’t anything I hadn’t warned them about already, and maybe they would back up on the threats if someone put in a good word for me. I didn’t like whoever this snitch was, but….

“Rumors have made their way out of the ranch, which is something we need to address with everyone, because that information shouldn’t be shared with outsiders, and that is part of our guidelines.” He sounded so saucy, I almost called him my hero in front of everyone. “The trespassers came looking for a blessing from our fertility g⁠—”

I whipped my head up and started shaking it. “I’m not… that’s an exaggeration.”

Franklin very clearly shifted in his seat.

Henri pretended I didn’t say anything. “They met Nina with my one-time blessing, under my supervision, and left a minute after they were done. Nothing inappropriate happened, and I don’t appreciate rumors.” The hand he’d left between my shoulder blades slipped down and spanned my lower back. That time, I did lean back into it just a little. “Tell me who I need to have a discussion with.”

The Great Wolf was back.

Franklin’s gaze discreetly swung toward me, and even though I didn’t know him well enough to recognize the little nuances that might reflect on it, it was obvious that his eyes slightly widened.

“I will give you that information in private,” Cyclops amended, looking almost remorseful.

Maybe he felt guilty.

The muscle in Henri’s cheek popped, aggression in his tone as he asked, “Was it Dominic?”

The cyclops didn’t need to say “yes” because his face did. “The resident said they recognized Nina’s scent along with another. I suppose we can close this matter now.”

Franklin’s voice was interesting as he agreed, “I suppose we can.”

I blinked, the silence so thick I wondered if that was what floating around in outer space had to be like. It was almost suffocating on the ears and heavy on the soul. I wanted to fidget so bad. Whistle maybe.

The female elder made a delicate sniffling sound. “Have you arranged a schedule for your suitors?” she asked me, and I had a feeling she was just trying to change the subject at this point.

The guilt came back with a vengeance the second the word “suitors” came out of her mouth. The urge to glance at Henri had never been so strong. But I didn’t. “The men. Yeah. Franklin and I talked about it, and we were planning on adding a calendar to the app when my trial period ends.”

I couldn’t believe I’d agreed to set up mini dates with mythical beings on an app for a secret community I lived in, in front of a man I had more than a giant crush on. A man who had kissed me and currently had his palm mapping parts of my spine.

Fourteen-year-old me, who couldn’t get a boy other than Matti to look at me twice to save my life, would have shed a tear of joy.

Thirty-two-year-old me, who had feelings for a good man, a great man, the most attractive man I’d ever met, who was also the wrong man, also couldn’t believe it, and it wasn’t in a good way.

“What are you going to do with Duncan?” It was Franklin who brought up the question, even as he continued glaring at the cyclops elder with an expression that was strangely intimidating for his size and age. He was somewhere between average height and a couple inches short of six feet. He had the body of a man who used to be a runner and still maintained his fitness. And then there was his usual business casual clothing.

There was more than met the eye to him, that was for sure.

But that was something to ponder later.

And his question was a very good one, even if it made me even more uncomfortable than Ema’s had. I fought the urge to glance at Henri again. “I have time to think about it, but I guess take him with me if he wants. He needs to like whoever I end up with too.” I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I didn’t like the idea of him meeting every person I met, to be honest.

“He can visit with me,” Franklin offered, that borderline scary glint still in his eye as he shot the cyclops another quick glare. “He and I should spend some time together. He needs to get to know the other members of the community since very few seemed fit to do it in my absence.”

The cyclops and the woman had the decency to look ashamed—not much but some was some. And me? I tried not to react to him calling them out. I was glad I wasn’t the only one annoyed about it.

“I would be willing to watch the child as well,” the woman volunteered.

“I could also spend some time with the pup,” the cyclops said, definitely sounding sheepish.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Henri scowl, but whether that was over the elders being guilt-tripped into being welcoming or not, or the gossip on the ranch, I didn’t know. I elbowed him and tipped my chin up. He just shook his head.

We were back to that, I guess.

He could keep his secrets if he wanted to.

I turned forward. “Thank you for the offers,” I said to them. “I’ll let you know when the time comes.” That was so weird to say. In the grand scheme of the last few months, it wasn’t even in the top five though.

That was something to think about.

What wasn’t was the hard expression that came over Henri’s features before he made his way to the range and started loading up a plate of food, his upper body clearly tense beneath his black, long-sleeved polo shirt.

“Where is Agnes?” Franklin asked out of the blue.

“Sounded like she was in her room when I went by,” Henri answered in a gruffer tone than usual.

It was strange she wasn’t already out here. It had been taking her longer and longer to come to the kitchen the last few days. She had been in her human body a lot more often lately. “Should I get her?” I offered.

“Please,” Franklin replied.

“I’ll be right back then.” I raised my voice. “Duncan, do you want to come with me?”

His “no”came as he trotted over to Henri and—was he leaning against him?

He was.

Good. Heading out of the kitchen, I went straight for her closed door. Even without excellent hearing, I could tell there were sounds coming from inside. “Agnes? Are you all right? Ready for breakfast?”

I stared at the swinging door at the bottom, but there was no movement.

“Agnes?” I tried again.

Still nothing.

I fought the urge to crawl on my belly and stick my head through the opening, but I wasn’t going to invade her privacy like that, not when we were still working on our relationship. We were getting somewhere slowly, very slowly, but there was only so much push she could take.

But just to be on the safe side….

“Did I do something?” I asked out loud. “It’s okay to tell me if I did.” I didn’t think so, but….

“No,” the grumpy, small voice answered, surprising the crap out of me.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she replied, still touchy.

All right. “Do you need help with something?”

Another moment of silence stretched so long, I was convinced she was done answering again, but just as I was about to try another tactic to get her to talk, she spoke up. “You don’t know how to do it.”

“How to do what?” I asked, already offended by her lack of faith in me.

“Braid my hair.”

“I know how to braid hair.”

There was another long pause. “Then why does your hair always look messy?”

Not scoffing right then might have been the hardest thing I’d ever done in my life. That was mean. “Because I don’t care what my hair looks like.” I stopped myself from rolling my eyes at the door. She was a child. She was a child. “Would you like me to braid your hair?”

“No.”

She hadn’t thought about that answer at all. That time, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Want me to try another hairstyle then? Space buns? Pigtails?” How did little girls like their hair? My mom had let me run around like a feral animal. I didn’t think I’d used hair products other than shampoo until I’d turned fifteen.

“Can you make them straight? Sera always makes one too high.”

I barely held back a snicker. “I can try my best,” I promised.

There was another very long moment of silence before she grudgingly said, “Okay.”

I reminded myself again that she was young. Very young. “Can I come in?”

More silence then, “Okay.”

This kid was making me work for it. Of all the nursery kids, she was still the only tough cookie. The only one who kept everyone she didn’t love at a distance, and there weren’t a whole lot of people who made the cut. She tolerated Pascal and Shiloh, and a couple other kids—which I figured was the equivalent of friendship. But Duncan she was always sweet to, always so patient and kind with.

Like she was with Henri.

And that just made me even more determined to win her over, even if it took years.

All good things required work after all, I thought, which had my mind straying to my mom. She had told me more than once that people were a lot like plants, and that life in general was very similar to gardening. Some people were thorny, and other people had very weak stems.

As she would remind me in this situation, some plants took a whole lot of water to grow, some plants were cacti that needed just a little to thrive and flourish.

And Agnes, despite her sharp teeth, was more like a bonsai, I guess. Her conditions had to be perfect for her to flourish. But I had a feeling that when she did, she’d be the most beautiful girl in the entire world.

Turning the knob, I opened the door. The room was a little bigger than ours, the walls a pale purple. She had a practical full-sized bed with a plain wooden headboard painted white. Across from it was a big matching dresser with a few knickknacks that ranged from a toy race car to a jewelry box with a ballerina in the middle of it. There was also a picture frame with her and Henri at what looked like a carnival.

On her neatly made bed were so many stuffed animals I wasn’t sure I had enough time to count them.

It was those that touched me the most. She might be a tattletale ready to bite someone’s fingers off, but she was a little kid. A girl who was cared for by a community of people.

But why hadn’t any of the families on the ranch adopted her? It didn’t make sense, and that just made me sadder. But there was no way I could let my eyes water in her presence, so I was going to have to do this on her terms, at least until she tolerated me better.

She stood beside her bed in bell-bottom jeans and a pink sweater, her cute face twisted into a very, very watchful one, almost like she was expecting me to give her a reason to kick me out. But it was gonna suck to be her because I wasn’t letting that happen. We could play by her rules. I was going to water this little bud.

“I’ll sit on the bed, and you can stand between my legs while I work on them, deal? If they don’t look good, we’ll try again,” I offered the blonde.

Agnes’s nose wrinkled and she squinted, but she nodded in a way that reminded me a lot of Henri, all brisk and no-nonsense.

This was a test. For whatever reason, the idea of it made me more nervous than when I’d taken my SATs. I didn’t care if most people didn’t like me, but I wanted her to.

Everyone deserved love, especially the difficult ones.

This could have been me. This could have been Duncan. This could’ve been Matti or even Henri, here, without an adult they trusted enough to ask for help with a hairstyle.

I couldn’t cry.

But I blinked a whole bunch of times while I sat on the end of the bed and the girl came to stand between my legs, holding three different kinds of elastics.

She only made me redo her pigtails twice.

Child?

Can you hear me?

I gasped awake, jackknifing up into a seated position.

A low pulse of pain, a baby headache, pressed against my forehead, directly above my eyebrows. My heart was racing. My throat felt dry.

That hadn’t been a dream.

It hadn’t been a freaking dream in any way.

My bedroom door swung open, my sleeping puppy lifting his head groggily at the intrusion, his tail doing the same as a familiar body slipped inside.

“Cricket?” Henri’s voice was soft, navy blue sweatpants clung to his hips for dear life as his long legs brought him to my bed. He wasn’t wearing a shirt again.I wasn’t too out of it not to notice that.

Duncan took one look at him, peeked at me through bleary puppy eyes, and set his head back down.

I opened my mouth to say I was fine, but the only thing that came out of me was an exhale. It was a shaky one too. I tried again, and the same thing happened.

I felt… not scared, but worked up?

“I heard it.” Henri frowned as he sat on the edge of the mattress, his butt literally pushing my legs aside. “You all right?” he whispered.

My fingers were shaking. But nothing had happened. No one was hurt.

A warm hand covered mine, right where it was on my lap, jittery like I’d had the scare of a lifetime.

“Hey, you’re good.” Henri’s fingers curled over my own. His forehead wrinkled. “You’re here. You’re safe. You listening?”

I opened my mouth again, but another shaky breath was the only sound that left my body.

Fingertips touched my chin, tilting my head back.

Henri’s face leaned in so close, his cheekbones and eyes filled my vision, becoming my whole world in that moment. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” he told me.

The logical part of my brain was aware there was nothing to be worked up about.

But the rest of me wasn’t convinced of anything.

How the hell could someone be talking to me while I slept? How powerful was this MFer? Who was he?

“Same thing happen?” His thumb drew a line from the knuckle of mine up to my fingernail.

I nodded, feeling dumb for acting like this when I was fine. Duncan was fine. Henri was fine. That was what mattered. I was here, and I was safe, and whoever this person was, he wasn’t Freddy Krueger, and he didn’t seem to be wanting to hurt me.

He was just… asking for someone.

For maybe, possibly, me.

I had to pinch my lips together at that.

After a second, I said, “Yeah, it sounded like the same voice from before.” Flipping my hand up, I snuck it under his palm, shaken up but ultra aware of this man in only sleeping pants, inches away from me. His chest got better every time I saw it, covered in creamy tan skin and dark chest hair that I would’ve wanted to focus on if someone wasn’t visiting me in my dreams.

I didn’t want this.I wasn’t a child anymore who was different from everyone around her and needed some way to identify. I definitely didn’t need someone poking around, ruining my chances here.

I squeezed my eyes together and swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, Fluff.”

There was a soft touch to my jaw that had me peeking at him. Any sign of his neutral face was gone. He looked… concerned. “Why are you apologizing?”

I let my head droop forward, my forehead grazing the bare skin on his shoulder, nestling into the perfect crook right there. “Because you’re being woken up, and it might be my fault. I know you got home late. You need your sleep.” I’d happened to be standing in the hallway at the window, holding a heavy Duncan in my arms, while we’d been nosy. Henri had gotten home an hour later than usual. While I’d been outside with Agnes and Duncan, I’d caught the little girl sitting there, staring off at the parking lot almost expectantly.

And the truth was, she hadn’t been the only one wishing he’d gotten home earlier.

I pressed my lips together, thinking again about that peck that shouldn’t have meant so much to me.

“It’s all right.” The fingers by my jaw slid so he cupped the nape of my neck. “Agnes used to have nightmares, and she’d come knocking on my door with an excuse every time.” I could hear him take a deep breath. “Everything is all good.”

Was it? Because it didn’t feel that way, waking up in the middle of the night, panting like I’d run a marathon. All because someone was invading not just my sleep but other people’s too. Just how many, I had no idea. No one had brought it up, other than Agnes, and I hadn’t wanted to ask and bring attention to myself in case the gnomes were right.

A faint growl rumbled through Henri’s chest. I felt it on my forehead. “You smell like cinnamon again.” Those callused fingers gently kneaded my neck. “There’s nothing to worry about.” I would’ve sworn he leaned in even closer. “We’ll figure out who’s doing it, and I’ll deal with them.”

That had me lifting my head. He was inches from me, and I peeked at him from under my eyelashes. “You’d do that?” I whispered.

The way he nodded made me feel like it was a promise. “I would,” he confirmed quietly.

He wasn’t doing this to protect me, I reminded myself. He would do this for anyone. I had to remember that. Him rushing around to comfort me was going to be a memory sooner rather than later. If this kept happening, I’d wake up with someone else in bed next to me. Someone else would be making me feel better.

I suddenly felt sick.

His scowl came out of nowhere. “What?”

Crap. “What?” My voice came out a little higher than normal.

“What did you just think about? Your scent got stronger.”

He was on to me again. “Just… just thinking about the future,” I tried to keep it vague.

He could tell, and he wasn’t going to let me get away with it, like usual. “Why are you lying?”

Dang it. “I didn’t want to, but I felt like I should,” I answered him honestly. “Just thinking thoughts I shouldn’t be, that’s all.” Not even I believed my BS.

“Which are?”

I shook my head.

There went that half frown, half scowl again.

“Do you bother everyone this much when you want to know something they don’t want to tell you?”

“No,” he replied, watching me closely. “What were you thinking?”

I shook my head some more.

He wasn’t going to drop it. “Tell me.”

“I don’t want to.” I bit the inside of my cheek. “There’s no point, Fluff. Trust me.”

“I do trust you; that’s why I want you to tell me what got you worked up.” Those amber eyes bounced from one of mine to the other. “Trust me.”

I did, damn it.

He said he wanted to know, but I really didn’t believe he was going to want to afterward. He didn’t look away though. He just sat there, touching me, like he hadn’t kissed me and then acted like he hadn’t. Sitting here with every line of his body insisting he wanted honesty. Maybe even needed it.

All right.

So be it. I shrugged. “I was just thinking that in a few months, if this happens, there’ll be some other man in a bed probably just like this one, having to talk me down from this, and… that made me feel disgusting inside, Henri. You’re my friend, and I understand why you don’t want to be more than that. I get that you don’t. I told myself I was never going to bring this up with you again, but… but I like you a lot, and I’m not going to apologize for that.” I tried to smile, but even without seeing it, I knew it was weak. “That’s what I was thinking, Your Hairy Highness, since you insisted on knowing. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Henri leaned away like I’d cursed his ancestors or something, and I thought… I thought I’d screwed up. That maybe this wasn’t something he could brush off after all. That there was a chance I wasn’t going to be able to smile my way out of this situation.

I tried to think of a way to salvage this and not make it so awkward. He knew I was attracted to him. I’d never been subtle about it, and there was only so much I could hide. Liking him as a person couldn’t be so out of this world he was shocked by it.

Sienna had told me once that love and affection were some of the loudest emotions people could emit.

He’d asked for my honesty, and I’d freely given it, but…. I took in his features, his jaw covered in scruff, his short hair with its shorter sides. I lifted my chin.

He was used to getting his way, but I was an only child, and so was I.

I knew he liked me. And if I had to choose anyone on this ranch to mate with, it would be him. Without a doubt, Henri would be every number on my top ten list. The idea of marrying someone else…. The more I thought about it, the more I hated it.

And if you don’t like something, do you know who’s going to change it? Only you will.

So before I could talk myself out of it and remind myself why I shouldn’t, why I’d thought “never again” already, I snagged his gaze and held on.

“Unless you’ve changed your mind,” I told him with a wobbly smile. “I’m good at snuggling, and I’m pretty good at brushing coats out.” It was only a tiny victory that’s what I decided to say instead of telling him the ten other inappropriate things that I could have gone with, like having strong fingers and how I used to own a shake weight.

But that small mercy didn’t seem to do much for him.

I’d watched a lot of storms roll in over the years. Big, grayish purple storms that bubbled over mountaintops and beautiful hills. And yet, I hadn’t seen one move the way I watched his expression literally morph in front of my eyes. He seemed… frustrated? Maybe angry?

But I’d swear his gaze flicked down the front of me for one second before he zeroed in on my face again, and his voice was low and rough as he murmured, “I see.”

Yeah, I bet he saw.

Or maybe he was annoyed that I was still bringing this up after he’d let me down.

I could tell he was bothered from the way his body tensed. Then his hands fell away from where they’d been on me, and he leaned back. Away. From me. “Wake me up if you hear anything again, Nina.”

He might as well have tossed a bucket of warm water on me.

I see.

I wouldn’t wake him up. His room was on the floor above mine, but I didn’t know which door was his. But even if I did, I wasn’t going to bring the dreams up in his presence, not when he was looking the way he was right then. Uncomfortable, mostly. Frustrated and possibly angry. But I nodded.

And when Henri got up and left my room a couple heartbeats later, taking his warm, comforting presence with him, I watched it happen with a knot in my stomach.

But it was what it was. I’d tried to put myself out there one last time, just in case, hoping, and hoping, and hoping some more. He was going to do what he wanted to do.

And I had to do what I needed to do.

Relying on him so much, expecting anything from him, was only going to hurt one person in the long run, and that person wasn’t going to be him.

It’d only be me who got hurt.