“This is amazing,” I said.  I wanted to start picking things.  Thomas seemed to read my mind.

“Before you pick anything, I want to show you one more thing.  It’s not useful like this.  Just pretty.”

That he’d described something as pretty piqued my interest.

We walked further east, away from the garden and back into the trees.  The cool damp air of the woods seemed to grow even cooler with each step.  In the break of branches, I caught a bright flash of light.  Moments later, I stepped out of the trees onto the lapping shoreline of a lake.  My shoes made divots in the sand as I walked to the water.  I could see the sandy bottom several feet out.

It was clean, untouched by man, and beautiful.  It stretched far enough that the trees on the opposite shore appeared tiny, less than a half an inch if I held up my fingers to measure.  I kicked off my shoes and rolled up my pant legs.

“It’ll be cold,” Thomas said, and it was.

While I stood in the water, fish swam close.  Small little things that made me smile.  The large one that darted after the little ones made my eyes round.

“Thomas,” I said in a quiet voice.  The big fish stopped moving, turned, and seemed to be contemplating my toes.

I heard the water rippled behind me then a low chuckle.  “It’s just a fish.”

“Do you eat fish?” I asked.  The better question would have been if he was fast enough to defend my toes.

“Do you?” he asked.

“Not lately.”

He dove forward.  It wasn’t a pretty, neat dive; it was a huge, clothes-soaking splash.  Then, he seemed to beat the surface.  I could barely see him with the amount of water flying in the air.  Suddenly, it stopped.

He stood before me with the fingers of one hand hooked in the gills and the other hand holding the tail of the fish.  It was more than shoulder width on Thomas.  He looked very proud of himself.

We stared at each other for several heartbeats.  I held myself still with my arms slightly out from my sides.  I was soaked.  Water dripped from my chin and ran into my eyes.

He burst out laughing.

*    *    *    *

Three large fish, onions, carrots, and rice baked in the oven while Thomas and I worked together to heat bathwater.  We stunk like fish.  He’d carried me home, and I had to carry the fish and onions.

In the silence, it struck me that since waking I hadn’t seen anyone else.

“Where is everyone?”

“I sent everyone out.  Mary and Gregory are in town, trying to determine what jobs are available, and what skills are required.  The rest are at the junk yard.  They wanted a break from cutting wood, and the man running the place was willing to pay them to break down some of the metal for recycling.  They’ll earn more than if they would have taken the metal.”

“I’m impressed.”

“I can’t claim responsibility for any of those ideas.  Winifred has been promoting jobs since you suggested it.”

“And they all went along with it?”

“Mostly.  There were a few grumbles at first, but they seem to be enjoying it now.”

He carried one of the steaming pots to the tub, dumped it, then came back to refill it.  I caught myself staring at the muscles in his back and arms as he worked the pump, and I quickly looked away.  My face was warm, my mouth a little dry, and my pulse too fast.

“I’m going to run and get some clean clothes,” I said, moving toward the main door.

“Hold on.  I’ll go too.”

I stopped by the door.  “There’s no need.”

“I need to grab some clothes.”  He started walking toward me.  I swallowed hard, staring once again at his naked chest.

What was wrong with me?  He’d carried me like that, and I hadn’t had so much of an issue at the time.  Granted I’d been too stunned by the experience of him running to notice him.  And on the way back, I’d been carrying dead fish.  There was nothing remotely romantic about dead fish.

“I can grab them for you,” I said, meeting his gaze.

He tilted his head and studied me.

“My kind tends to attack you when you’re alone.  I’d rather not leave you.”

“Okay.”  I turned and started to walk before my heating cheeks could give me away.

“Charlene, is something bothering you?”

“Yes, but I don’t want to talk about it.”

He chuckled.

“Honesty.  It’s refreshing.”

“Not really.  You’re just more of a pain when I lie.”

He laughed and waited in the hall as I grabbed clothes from my room.  When he went to his room, he left the door open.  It was the first time I looked inside.  There was nothing within except another pair of pants on the floor.

I stepped in further, looking around.

“It’s so...empty.  Someday, it won’t be like this,” I said, imagining what his people could do if they worked together.

“What do you see in your someday?” he asked, coming close.

I stared into the room, no longer really seeing it.

“This building and the other buildings will be brimming with life, an ever changing community of families.  Most will stay to raise their young in the protection of a safer environment.  These rooms will be their homes within our home.  And I see happiness.  A lot of laughter and friendship.  No more dying race or hiding in the woods.”

“I like what you see.  And someday, I know you’ll help make it all happen.”

“How do you know?”

“Because, without you, no one has a reason to stay.”

He reached up and gently brushed his hand across my cheek.

I wrinkled my nose.

“We need our baths.”

He smiled and dropped his hand.  I left the room and started down the stairs, listening to him follow.

“You know,” he said, “we wouldn’t need to heat as much water if we shared.”

“That’s not going to happen,” I said over my shoulder.

He chuckled.

*    *    *    *

The fish finished cooking before I was done with my bath.  Thomas had insisted I go first since I wouldn’t share.  By the time I opened the door, Mary and Gregory had returned and were sitting with Ann and Leif at the table.

“Ann, I’d be happy to hold the baby while you eat,” I quickly offered.

“Oh, thank you, Charlene.”  Ann stood and gently placed the sleeping girl in my arms.  “She is so sweet, but it’s nice to sit and eat.”

“I’ve been wondering.  If the babies are born as babies, how does that work in the woods?  How do wolves carry babies?”

“We try to give them a week before we force the change.  During that week, we typically don’t leave our birthing den.  It’s safer that way,” Ann said.

“Force the change?  You mean they can change into a wolf already?”

She nodded.

“A small, fluffy, blind cub.  Adorable.  But it’s painful for them and scary.  Some don’t live through the process.  While I was still pregnant, I asked Winifred about it.  I know she has no cubs, but as an Elder I thought she might have an answer.”

“Answer to what?”

“If the forced change was the reason we have such a low population and even fewer females.  Is it really that less are born or that less survive?  She didn’t know.  But, she’s let many of the expecting mothers know about this place.  We’re hoping to stay until the rest of the pack returns, before we try to force the change.”

“How do you force the change?”

“Our wolf form is our defensive form.  We naturally shift when startled badly enough.”

“So you’re going to scare her?”  I looked down at the babe, her mouth puckered so her glistening bottom lip stuck out.  Scaring this baby—any baby—just seemed wrong.  “I hope you can stay longer than a month.”  But I knew that would depend on the mood of the pack members Thomas had sent away.

I walked the baby until Ann finished eating then took my own place.  The men from the junk yard came in.  Their hair was damp but their clothes were dry and dirty.

“If you want to change, I’ll wash those clothes for you tomorrow,” I said as they all moved to the stove.