Willow

by Donna Lynn Hope

  “Come with me.”

  I took his hand and followed him quietly.

  “I want to ask you something,” he whispered as he shot me a devilish grin. He began to open the door and I laughed out loud.

  “What, I couldn’t possibly, I have no shoes on…“

  Very swiftly Reece scooped me up in his arms and swept me out the door. Once outside he spun me around while holding me tight. I leaned my head back and laughed joyfully. Snow was still falling, the porch was covered in light powder, and I was in a red silk shirt, black pants and black socks but I couldn’t have been any warmer than I was in the comforting arms that held me.

  Reece laughed as snow accumulated in our hair and then he was still, keeping me cradled against him while looking at me seriously. The smile faded from my lips as I gazed back at him. I felt my heart rate accelerate as his frosty breath fanned my face and I closed my eyes when I felt his warm lips press against mine, softly at first and then with urgency. I moved my hand from his arm to caress his neck. Reece was the one to pull back first and he did so slowly. With tender concern he looked at me and without saying anything he brought me back inside. We shook the snow from our hair and clothes and I excused myself so I could change but as I took one step in front of him, he pulled me back until my back was pressed against his chest.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he whispered against my hair. “Would you go out with me?”

  “Are you asking about a date or a relationship?” I questioned quietly, all the while trying to keep my heart from palpitating. Reece didn’t know it but he was the only one I had ever kissed.

  “I want you to be with me,” he said with confidence.

  Not knowing how to answer I stood there anxiously.

  “Maybe we should have had this conversation before kissing.”

  “Maybe, but words would have ruined the moment.”

  His voice lowered even more, “This isn’t some crush. Not for me. I care about you.”

  Fearfully I began to panic. My mind raced. I was unsure about everything and everyone. Why couldn’t this be simple? Why did it feel so right and yet so wrong? I was cruel and undeserving. Tears hovered near the surface. I pulled free from the arms that held me so protectively and without looking back I sprinted up the stairs and into my room, away from him and away from the pressure that permeated the air.

  Chapter 21

  “I’m crazy,” I stated as Anne sat down in the chair next to my bed. “I don’t deserve him.”

  Jericho and Reece were downstairs and I felt guilty for putting a stain on an otherwise wonderful day.

  “That’s the great thing about love,” Anne said. She put her hand on my arm and squeezed lightly. “When it’s real, it’s extended freely and felt unconditionally.”

  “What’s wrong with me?” I cried. “I shouldn’t be this confused. When I’m with Reece it feels right and when I’m with him it also feels right. There is someone else to consider, too. It’s not supposed to be this way.”

  “By him you mean Haven? By someone else you mean Amber?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t have the answers,” Anne said wistfully. “But I will leave you with two things to ponder…As long as you’re straightforward with Amber, that’s the important thing. Secrets destroy relationships. As for the two young men, can you be with one and miss the other? If so, that’s unfair to both of them. You will have to make this decision for yourself.”

  “I wish one of them would make it for me.”

  Anne’s soft laughter filled the air. “That would be too easy wouldn’t it? Love is not that way, as you and I are both well aware. And maybe it shouldn’t be. If love were easy, it wouldn’t be appreciated.”

  She stood but turned to look at me. “Let it happen naturally and without pressure. Don’t love out of obligation. Be fair to them and to yourself.”

  All I knew about love was that pain was an accompaniment and the more I loved, the more I would lose. I didn’t think I was that strong.

  My hand rested on the banister and I could hear them in the living room. I made my descent and saw Reece resting against the doorway. His arms were folded and his eyes settled on me as his hair fanned across his forehead. Like before, I felt chagrin warming my cheeks. I stopped two stairs short. I summoned a smile and watched his face soften, although he didn’t smile back. Feeling conspicuous, I covered the ring with my other hand. This action brought a smirk to Reece’s lips and I could see him draw in a breath of air. He pushed away from the wall and approached me. We were eye to eye and I felt myself starting to back up a stair but Reece inclined his head slightly to the left and his eyes were so piercing I knew he was telling me not to. I stayed put.

  “You first,” he challenged.

  I hesitated, not knowing how I could explain myself. “I think you deserve better than what I can offer you.”

  “Bullshit,” Reece spat. “I know what makes me happy, I know what I want.”

  “You don’t know me, not really,” I protested softly.

  Reece sighed. “That’s the thing Willow; let me get to know you. Isn’t that the point of going out?”

  I rolled my eyes, more at myself than him. He was right. “I don’t know what I want. I’m really confused right now.”

  “Getting to know people instead of pushing them away is one way to figure that out, don’t you think?”

  How could I argue when what he was saying was true?

  “What about Amber?”

  “What about Amber?” Reece echoed. “She is incredible and I love that girl, but I’m interested in you.”

  “What if I’m drawn to two people at the same time?” I dropped my eyes in shame. Thinking it was bad enough, saying the words out loud made me cringe. When Reece didn’t answer I raised my eyes through the fringe of my lashes to see his gaze narrow. His jaw was tight but his eyes were thoughtful.

  “Are you challenging me?” He asked. “Because I live for it.”

  “I’m not worth it…” I murmured. “You deserve better than to be someone’s...option.”

  I felt myself cringe even more but Reece didn’t seem to be affected at all.

  “I get it. I do,” he said. “There is more than one trying to win your heart and that can be intoxicating. Part of you is able to feel comfortable with both of us but remember what’s at stake. There are consequences either way.”

  Those consequences affect more than just one person.

  “I have no discernment,” I complained. “My thoughts are confounded. I never wanted this kind of uncertainty in my life. ”

  Reece lowered his voice. “I think part of your attraction to him is the draw of the unknown, of being different, even special. He is so out of the ordinary that you feel pulled to that because you yourself are not so ordinary. You’re alone. You have Anne but you lack parental guidance and sometimes the pain of so much loss is written across your face. You wear it like an adornment and that causes other people to wonder about you. Other people, our peers especially, can’t relate to you and what you’ve been through, but you can relate to him in his dark state.”

  Reece shook his head and sighed, as if the weight of the world were on his shoulders.

  If love was so pure, why was it so burdensome? I raised my arm and ran my fingers through his rich brown hair. For the first time I pulled him close to me. His arms went around my waist and I brought my other arm up to his shoulder. I turned to whisper in his ear.

  “Thank you Reece. You see me for what I am and you still care about me.”

  He constricted his hold in response. “Always...”

  Chapter 22

  The days following Christmas grew warm enough to melt some of the snow and on the day before my birthday I was able to leave the house in nothing more than jeans, an off-white sweater and a light jacket. My hair, which was still damp, fell loose. I set my backpack, which contained my camera, a water bottle, and trail mix on the table and sat down on the swing. To my right I saw the
neighbor’s cat watching me from the safety of the shrubbery. I smiled at her and watched as she retreated. Still doesn’t like me I thought with amusement. Using my fingers I separated my hair into sections and wound the pieces into a French braid. I let the escaped tendrils fall where they may.

  I stepped from the shelter of the porch and lifted my face to soak up the sun’s warmth. The air was dry and I knew it was the perfect day to capture images of my new town. Anne had gone hiking with Jericho and they had taken Pandora with them. I unlocked the door to my Jeep and had to turn the key a few times before the engine came to life. Once on the road I decided to take the same route I had ridden with Haven. I stopped in certain areas to photograph horses and an old barn. With the leaves long gone life seemed dormant and the desolate winter landscape had a decayed beauty about it. I decided to take a road I hadn’t been on before. Trees were few but the hills were captivating. I could see an outcropping of woods in the distance and a vast field. I found a place to park and reached for an old blanket in the back seat. The view was magnificent and there were no houses or buildings – just miles of pristine countryside. I could only imagine what it would look like in the summer!

  After drinking in the scenery and relishing the tranquility of such a quiet reverie I found a place to sit and relax. Seconds turned to minutes and minutes turned into a loss of time. I was lying on my back and feeling the breeze when I caught a flicker of some form. Weeds swayed and every now and then there was a parting, which revealed a statue like presence not far off.

  As my eyes adjusted I made out the brown and tan form of a wolf. He quietly, smoothly and stealthily moved towards me. I sat up slowly, alarmed. A shiver went up my spine and I felt my blood drain and my heartbeat accelerate. I glanced around, not knowing what to do. There was nothing but me and my growing fear. When I looked up he was not more than a foot in front of me, once again as still as a statue. His blue eyes were transfixed on my own. My eyes widened in fright. I gripped my blanket, feeling dread, and wondered what would ensue. One second passed, and then another, followed by a minute…nothing happened.

  Gradually, as if his agile movements were in slow motion, he moved to my side, and just inches from my face, he sniffed. I closed my eyes and stopped breathing. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my cheek and to my surprise, I could smell him too. He didn’t smell like a dog, he smelled like musk, which was eerily familiar, although I couldn’t place when or where I had ever before caught such a scent.

  He sniffed me again and to my horror exposed his teeth and gently gripped my neck in his mouth. Despite my terror I couldn’t have been more still if I tried. The wait was agonizing and I could feel the sharpness of his teeth against my neck, but the puncture didn’t come although I knew if I moved he could rip my jugular and bleed me out within seconds. His breath was hot and humid on my neck and just as I was beginning to feel light-headed from fright, the wolf pulled back, leaving my neck damp with saliva. He sat back on his hind legs. I cautiously looked over at him and sensing no threat, began to calm down. The more I did, the more he imitated.

  I tried to remember what little I knew of wolves. They could sense fear, which would agitate them, so I needed to remain as calm as possible. I should also keep myself lower, being submissive to his dominance.

  There was something eccentrically familiar about the wolf. I curled my legs up beside me and lowered my eyes as I leaned forward. The Wolf, to my surprise, lay down near me. He is letting me pet him! Slowly, I reached out my hand to touch him. His fur was thick and course, but striking to behold. “You’re beautiful,” I whispered to him.

  His eyes twinkled, as if with pride, as if he knew what I was saying to him. I caressed him like I did Pandora. When I lowered my hand the wolf sniffed and licked near my garnet ring.

  As the minutes wore on I found myself strangely content in his presence. With him near, but not too near, I rolled onto my stomach and rooted around in my backpack until I located my camera. Carefully, and with the cap removed, I pointed the camera in an effort to take what I thought would be a spectacular photo of the wolf, but he rose and began pacing. His behavior startled me and I regretted disturbing him. I raised my palm to him. “I’m sorry, I’ll put it away.”

  Once he saw the camera was out of sight he sat back on his haunches but did not lie down. I grinned softly and sat up.

  “I feel like I know you or have seen you before. Or maybe, it is you I’ve heard so many times before.”

  I praised him again. “If so, you have a magnificent howl.”

  Once more, his eyes sparkled with pride.

  “Friends again?” I questioned.

  He seemed to understand.

  “Well my friend,” I began. “I have a lot on my mind and don’t know who to talk to.” Raising my eyes to meet his, I winked. “You’ll do.”

  To my surprise, the wolf lay back down and when he did, I followed suit. I was able to reach out my arm and stroke his forehead.

  “I’m troubled,” I told him. “I am sick of old ghosts and I just want to feel safe again without the haunts of old vulnerabilities.”

  The brilliant blue of his eyes opened but he didn’t move. In great detail I went over the events of the last several months and I told the wolf of my worries and innermost thoughts. At one point I pulled my backpack into view and pulled out my journal. I held the pen between my teeth while I found a crisp new page to write on. I smoothed it with my right hand and began to write.

  Lying here next to this magnificent but odd creature--an animal acting more tame than wild--I am reminded of old dreams. I’ve seen the champagne colored wolf more than once but dreaming about being one was altogether new. I had shed my creamy skin for a thick, black pelt; I didn’t feel it, of course—the transition from lowly girl to strong beast. It was a dream after all, but I found myself roaming near my father’s property in Woodland Park searching for something or someone perhaps. What I came across was the carcass of the beautiful champagne colored wolf lying in front of my childhood home – a home that in my dream looked abandoned and somehow artificial. Perhaps it was the shade in my dream – nothing looked real even if it felt so.

  As I wrote I heard myself echoing the words out loud.

  The carcass of the wolf the color of champagne had been unblemished and undisturbed. She looked as though she were sleeping. The wind picked up and I saw her smooth fur ripple in the wind, raising the evocative aroma of sweet lemon sugar, a fragrance my mother was known to wear, and a scent I wear in memory of her. In my dream state I remembered finding that unusual. Instead of smelling the earthy odor of a wolf, I smelled what I remembered of my mother.

  I looked around but I was alone with an unnaturally beautiful corpse. I trotted over to my dad’s pickup truck which, in the dream, was unsoiled and brand new. My father was nowhere. I couldn’t even hear any wildlife. The silence was deafening as if the very essence of life was void. When I wheeled about I saw another wolf sitting on his haunches near the body of Champagne. If evil had a scent, it was borne on the wind and came from him. His gold eyes were set on mine but they were unblinking and unnatural. He had said to me, as if a wolf could talk, “Have I bereaved you of home and family?” I trudged forward and between us lay Champagne. Over her body I had responded, “Your tone may be cordial but your words are a running sewer of filth.” “Filth?” He echoed haughtily as he looked me over. “Exquisite though you may be to look at in your wolf skin, an abomination is what you are.” He lowered his voice into what seemed like the recesses of hell. “Abomination is what this unsurpassed creature brought into this world.” He indicated the champagne colored wolf before returning his golden glare, “You.” The word exploded from him and hit me like a bullet. And as fast as one I charged him, but before he could react I sank my teeth into his hide and clamped down. I could taste saliva mixed with the thick, hot, rusty taste of blood. I didn’t release my hold. He shook violently and, unable to free himself, he rolled, taking me down with him. His claws ripped int
o my pelt and I returned the act, thinking with relish that I would gut him and stain the ground with his innards. I heard a throaty growl and realized I was taking pleasure in tearing the enemy wolf to shreds. We parted and paced until we charged and collided. He aimed for my throat but I reached his first. I clenched down and shook as viciously as I could. This time the hold was right and I could feel his airway growing smaller. He was suffocating and just before his life slipped away I heard a sweet voice order me to stop.

  Champagne was on all fours. She gently nudged me away from the wounded wolf. She looked at me with her dazzling blue eyes. “Killing him won’t bring me back. Killing him won’t make up for all you’ve missed. Killing him will end up killing you. You have to let him go.” My heart was hammering, the blood in my mouth was inciting a frenzy within, and I felt positively mad next to the coolness of the champagne colored wolf. “It’s not fair. He deserves to suffer! He can’t get away with what he’s done!” Champagne’s eyes were soft and empathetic. “Be better and you will know happiness. As for him, that is one thing he will never know, which is punishment enough.”

  I put the pen down. Recounting the dream and writing it down made the memory of it more vivid. The champagne colored wolf, the one I had seen so many times before, represented my mother. I had often fantasized about what she would say to me if she could. Perhaps the dream was my subconscious urging me to let go of all the grief and bitterness that had been consuming me. I didn’t want to let go, not yet. I felt that letting go would mean letting go of my parents.

  I turned my head and rested my eyes on my new companion. He stayed very still but his eyes searched my own. He had watched and listened to me all this time. I knew that he couldn’t possibly understand anything I had said, which made my confessions so easy. I lowered my eyes and quietly laughed.