Firefly Hollow (3 page)

“Have a seat, son. You’ve had a few of days to adjust to things. It’s time we talked.”

Too tired to argue, Owen sat and drank his lemonade.

Eli let him get the first glass down before he spoke. “So, I imagine you have some questions.”

Owen shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe.”

Eli finished his own drink and set the empty glass aside. “I know I did. And my father wasn’t exactly well-equipped to answer them. I hope I can do a better job of this than he did.”

“What about Trent? The others?” Owen asked, referring to Eli’s seven children. “Are they like us?”

“Trent is. The younger boys haven’t shown yet, but I suspect at least two of them are shifters.”

“When did you tell them?”

“As soon as they were old enough to understand and to keep it a secret, which is what your mother should have done with you. I’m sorry she didn’t.”

Owen scuffed the toe of his sneaker on the barn floor. “Yeah, so am I. Harlan isn’t like us, she said. Shouldn’t he be? He’s my brother.”

Eli leaned back against the stall behind them. “Not necessarily. From what I’ve learned, it’s like the color of your hair or your eyes. There’s no way to know which child is going to be a shifter, or something else entirely. It just is.”

Owen was stunned. “What else is there?”

“All kinds of things. People who can heal with their touch, people who can see the future, people who can talk to animals with their minds. There’s so much more to the world than most people ever realize. And we’re lucky because we get to see that side of things. You have to learn to accept that part of who you are.” Eli must have seen how overwhelmed Owen felt. “Let’s stick with shifting for now. There will be plenty time to learn about the other mysteries on this side of reality later. What do you want to know?”

The question bore careful consideration, and Owen took his time formulating his response. “What am I? When I turn, I mean? Mom said something about a wolf.”

Eli nodded. “All the shifters in our family do turn into wolves. A few can turn into other creatures, but we can all become wolves. Some better than others, I might add.”

“How many shifters do we have in the family?”

“Not counting you and me and my boys? I know of at least fifteen others, spread out across the family tree.”

Owen took that in for a little bit. He was becoming more curious than ashamed, finally. “Can you show me?”

“I don’t think you’re quite ready for that quite yet. But I promise you, I’ll show you very soon, and I’ll guide you through your first shifting.”

Owen picked at a hole in the knee of his jeans. “Does it hurt?”

His uncle moved his hand in a seesaw motion. “Not hurt, precisely, but it is uncomfortable. I think that’s why you start to change when you’re younger. Because your bones aren’t fully formed yet, it’s easier to get used to.”

After that, the questions rolled out of Owen. For the next several days, he followed Eli around the farm. He learned what it meant to be a shifter, not just physically, but mentally, and as Eli calmly answered his questions, Owen started to adapt to his new reality.

As relieved as he was to be getting some answers and guidance, he was jealous of Eli’s children, who were still in school. Trent, a couple years younger than Owen and more interested in playing outside than in doing his homework, stamped on Owen’s nerves in particular. Because of the way Eli and Amy had raised their children, Trent and his siblings had been able to stay in school, unlike Owen. One evening after supper, the two came to blows. It wasn’t anything more than a typical scuffle that young boys tended to get into, but Owen’s resentment added to his ire. After separating them, Amy demanded an explanation.

“He got mad because I wouldn’t do my algebra,” Trent told her, rolling his eyes.

She sent Trent inside to clean up and kept Owen with her. “Walk with me.”

He started to sneer at her, but when she simply raised an eyebrow, he stomped off down the driveway. He hadn’t gotten far when his conscience got the best of him, and he slowed to wait for her.

She caught up to him and linked her arm through his. “You want to go to school, don’t you?”

Owen hung his head. “Yes. I love learning.”

“Well, I think it’s a little too late to get you enrolled down here this year, but we can go to the library and get you some books. Would you like that?”

“You don’t think I should learn how to fix tractors or run a farm? Harlan says book learning is a waste of a man’s time and that real men don’t read books.”

Amy snorted. “Oh, please. That’s ridiculous, Owen. You probably need to know about tractors and farming, yes, but don’t believe that other drivel. Real men aren’t ashamed to read books, to learn, and to better themselves. Look at your uncle. He reads everything he can get his hands on, every chance he gets. Now, I don’t think you need to bury your nose in books and keep it there, but there’s nothing wrong with wanting knowledge. Don’t ever let anyone tell you there is.”

The pep talk bolstered Owen’s spirits considerably, and the next day, Amy took him into town to the library. For the rest of the time he stayed with them, Eli and Amy encouraged and supported Owen’s desire to learn. When his mother came for him that August, he didn’t want to leave. He told Eli as much when they hugged.

“Any time you need or want to come back, the door is always open,” his uncle assured him in a gruff voice. “But you need to go home and give life there a chance. Okay?”

He went home, back to Perry County. But life didn’t get any easier; in fact, it got worse.

Because he hadn’t finished eighth grade, he was sentenced to repeat it. His brother, who was only a year behind him thanks to the way their birthdays fell, had made sure that no one forgot Owen’s embarrassing episode the previous spring. Harlan set out to make Owen’s life a living hell. It didn’t help matters that Owen still hadn’t hit his growth spurt, so Harlan was rapidly overtaking him in both height and weight.

By the time Christmas rolled around, Owen was ready to walk away from school and his family. The stress of dealing with puberty and Harlan’s tormenting was too much, and when Harlan made a snide remark on Christmas Eve, Owen lost his temper. His hackles rose, literally, and with a snarl, he leapt on his brother. They rolled around on the living room floor for several minutes before their father was able to separate them. When he finally did, Owen was half changed, and the look of disgust and fear on Hank’s face, and on Harlan’s, broke something in Owen.

The next day, despite his mother’s tears and protests, he moved out to the barn. He didn’t feel comfortable living in the house any longer. And he never went back to school after that. As much as he loved learning, the price he paid simply wasn’t worth it.

A few weeks later, he went to live with Eli and Amy. He didn’t return to school, though; he wasn’t strong enough to take the chance that he’d be rejected again. Amy enrolled him in a correspondence course, and he was able to get his high school diploma, but he never felt as though he measured up in his father’s eyes.

When he was eighteen, Owen’s brother married his high-school sweetheart, and then promptly joined the Army and departed for Germany. Harlan was killed there ten months later in a bar fight that erupted over the favors of a prostitute. Owen returned home for the funeral, and his mother begged him to stay. Unable to turn away from her in the midst of her anguish, he did as she wanted. He slept in the barn, unwilling to give an inch to his father, who didn’t bother to hide his disgust at Owen’s presence.

A few weeks later, their father dropped dead from a heart attack. The blows, coming in quick succession as they did, took a toll on Lucy’s health. She was never the same after that. After she was diagnosed with a heart condition, Owen reluctantly moved back into the house to help take care of her. Lucy went downhill quickly, suffering a series of heart attacks in just a few months. She knew she was dying, as much as Owen tried to convince her, and himself, she wasn’t.

Many times, she’d tried to get him to promise her that he wouldn’t seclude himself after she was gone. “Darling boy, I can’t hold on much longer, and I worry about you so. Don’t stay up here on this mountain alone. Don’t punish yourself for what you are. Promise me, Owen. Promise me you’ll live. Find a woman to love and love her well. Let her love you.”

Until that point, Owen had never lied to his mother, but he couldn’t promise what she was asking. He knew that once she was gone, he’d hole up in the house and become a recluse. It was the life he’d led since that fateful Christmas, and even if lonely at times, it was the life he was comfortable with. Regardless, he nodded, gruffly promising to live even though he knew he wouldn’t follow through with her wishes.

Now, years after he’d learned the truth about himself, he was alone. If he longed for more from time to time, he told himself sternly that such a life was not for him, that he was comfortable in his solitude. If he needed a reminder, all he had to do was change into his natural beast, the menacing wolf, and look at himself in a mirror. No, he’d never subject a woman to his beastliness, and he certainly wouldn’t pass his condition on to his children. Owen was barely able to accept himself for what he was, and he wasn’t about to let himself be vulnerable enough to let anyone else know the truth.

Chapter Four

S
ARAH’S LEGS TREMBLED SO MUCH that she staggered as she tried to get home. Trying to keep from crying, she bit her lip hard enough to taste blood. She was hard-pressed to say what had shaken her most: that she’d almost been killed by a rattlesnake, that she’d watched that snake be torn to bits, or that she’d been saved by a wolf.

When she reached the edge of the woods, she saw her father working in the garden. With a sob, she hurried toward him. “Daddy!”

Her father looked up, alarm crossing his face. “Sarah? What’s wrong?” He dropped the hoe and hurried to meet her.

Sarah’s legs finally gave out as he reached her, and she fell into his arms. She heard her mother call from the back porch, but couldn’t understand the words through her tears.

“Honey? What’s wrong? What happened?” Ira asked again.

“S-s-snake,” Sarah managed.

He pulled back and started checking her limbs as her mother rushed over.

“Did you get bit?”

Sarah shook her head. “No. Oh, God. It was awful.”

Ira pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and mopped her face. “How about some ice water?” he asked her mother, who got up and went toward the house. “Just breathe slowly, honey. You’ll make yourself sick if you don’t calm down.”

Sarah struggled to bring her emotions under control. By the time her mother came back out with the water, Ira had managed to get Sarah up and onto the porch. The three of them sat on the concrete steps, Sarah supported between her parents, and Eliza put the cold, damp cloth she’d brought back outside on the back of Sarah’s neck. Even though her breath was hitching, Sarah’s fear started to ease.

“Now, you think you can tell us what happened?” Ira asked.

“I was coming home and th-there was a rattlesn-snake across the path. Right there after the b-big rock, you know?” Thankfully, she’d been on Browning land when she encountered the snake. She didn’t want to have to confess that she’d been trespassing, in addition to everything else. “And I tried to go around it, but it heard me. B-before I could run, it coiled up.” She laid her head against her mother’s shoulder. “I didn’t have anything to fight it off with, and I knew I was a goner. But then, this w-wolf showed up. And it killed the snake.”

Her mother’s arm tightened around her. To Sarah’s surprise, her father cursed under his breath. He stood and took a few steps away, then turned to stare at Sarah. “A
wolf
? You’re sure it wasn’t a big dog?”

“Pretty sure, yes. It was black and grey, and it was huge. It tore the snake into bits,” she said with a shudder, remembering the violence of the wolf’s attack.

“And it didn’t try to come after you?” he pressed.

“No. It growled at me and howled some, but it left me alone. It was almost like it stepped in to save me, and that was all.” When her father sent her mother a look and cursed again, Sarah frowned. She pulled back to look at her mother, then at Ira. “What?”

“Nothing, sweetheart. We’re just glad you’re okay. Are you going to go look at the snake?” Eliza asked him.

Ira gave a short nod. “Yes. The two of you stay here. At least Jack isn’t here to want to go with me.” He came back to the porch and bent to place a soft kiss on the crown of Sarah’s head. “I’m glad you’re okay, young lady. We’re going to have to reconsider your walks, though. I’ll be back soon.”

Sarah started to protest, but remembering the terror and utter helplessness she’d felt at being trapped by the snake, she held her tongue. Ira went to the garden and picked up the hoe he’d dropped, then stomped off into the woods.

“Mama, why’s he so upset? And please don’t tell me it’s because I almost got bit,” Sarah added.

Eliza sighed. “I imagine he’s upset because he’s got to go see a man about a wolf, sweetheart. I don’t think the wolf you saw was wild. I think it was tame, if you can ever tame such a creature.”

There was an undercurrent to the conversation Sarah didn’t understand, but exhausted from the trauma of the evening, she didn’t question it. “I think I’ll go in, if you don’t mind. I’ve had enough of being outside today.”

“Of course. Maybe we can set up a game of rummy in a little while, if you feel like it.”

“Sounds good.” Sarah’s smile disappeared when she went inside the house. The whole afternoon had been strange, and it was going to take a while to process it all.

Owen was coming out of the barn, back in human form and clothed, when Ira Browning hailed him from the edge of the woods.

“That didn’t take long,” he muttered as he raised a hand in greeting, and walked across the yard to meet his neighbor. “Ira. What brings you up this way? Everything okay?”

The older man raised an eyebrow. “Depends on how you look at it, I reckon. How’s your mother?”

Owen swallowed and looked away. “Not well. Thanks for asking.”

Ira clapped him on the shoulder. “Eliza and I think a lot of Lucy. I imagine Eliza will want to stop by and sit with her a while before long, if you think she’s up to having visitors.”

“She’d like that. But I don’t imagine that’s why you’re here, is it?”

“No. It isn’t.” Ira looked around, his gaze traveling slowly across the flat mountaintop where Hank Campbell had built his farm. “I’ll cut to the chase, as I know you’re probably busy. My daughter was just saved from almost certain death by a wolf. I thought it might be the courteous thing to do to come up here and let you know that. I know you like to walk in the woods a lot, and I’d hate to see you run into the creature without warning.”

Ira was watching him closely, and a prickling awareness danced down Owen’s spine. He narrowed his gaze, trying to gauge the other man’s mood. “I appreciate the warning. I’ve not seen any signs of a wolf around here, though. You sure she didn’t mistake a dog for a wolf? What with the excitement from being almost bitten by a rattlesnake, I’m sure she wasn’t thinking straight.”

Ira’s lips quirked up at the corners. “I never said she had an encounter with a snake.”

Owen sucked in a sharp breath.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
He weighed his options. A knowing light was in Ira’s eyes, and Owen decided to gamble. Besides, he was too tired to try and bluff his way out of it. “What do you want to know?”

“I want to make sure that wolf doesn’t pose a threat to my daughter, or the rest of my family. That’s all.”

“It doesn’t. You have my word on that.”

Ira studied him for another few seconds, then nodded and let out a breath. “I figured as much. I just needed to make sure. And I wanted to say thanks, as well. That snake was so big, Sarah never would have survived had it bitten her. It was a risk, what the wolf did. He could have easily been bitten himself.”

Owen didn’t know what to say, and thankfully, Ira seemed to sense that. He held his hand out, and they shook. Ira placed his free hand over their joined hands and squeezed, the male equivalent of a hug.

“I’ll head back down the hill. Listen, if you or your mama need anything, call us. That’s what neighbors are for.” With a tip of his cap, Ira turned to go back home.

Owen cleared his throat and stopped him. “Ira? Does Sarah know?”

Ira stilled, then turned. “No. Eliza and I put it together a couple years ago, but we’ve not told anyone. It’s not our secret to tell. And you have
my
word on that, son.”

Owen thanked him, the words barely audible around the lump in his throat.

“No thanks necessary. Just holler if you need us.” With that, Ira was gone, and Owen was left staring after him, puzzled. He’d never talked to anyone outside his mother’s family about his shifting, and Ira Browning’s calm acceptance of his dual nature left him speechless.

Before he could consider the implications, his sister-in-law stepped out onto the porch. “Owen? Mother Lucy is asking for you.”

“On my way.” He’d have to ponder the new information later. He had other, more pressing worries at the moment.