“It’s not dumb. It’s good to have a dream. Lots of people out there who don’t have them, or some pretty bad ones.” His family being some of them. All they wanted was to raise their status and rise up in the world of people who hated them. “You’ve managed to grow anything good?”
“Couple of things on their way. But like I said, it’s too small.”
“Can I come and see?”
She pursed her lips thoughtfully, regarding him, and his intent. “Um, sure. I don’t really… I don’t show people it. It’s just a green thumb hobby of mine.”
“I’m interested to know your hobbies. I’ve never grown anything myself. My family aren’t great growers either.”
“My mom’s an avid gardener, actually. Her garden’s one of the best in Whitefall Creek. I don’t have nearly the talent she has, but it does feel good to be involved in something.” She seemed to be overexplaining herself, as if preparing for some kind of disappointment. He let her talk as he followed her to the car, and she drove on the edge of town where it grew into wild country, fields, trees leading towards snowcapped mountains, feeling nature assault them from all sides. They trundled past a motley arrangement of plots, each, as Tegan explained, rented out by people from town and around the area, those who didn’t have access to good soil in their places, who wanted to grow things.
There were greenhouses, little lemon trees, beautiful, popping flowers and bushes, and even one allotment that had a fence around it and contained a few chickens. A man was placing eggs into a wicker basket.
Tegan’s section wasn’t quite as impressive. She had two small bushes, budding with what looked like green pinecones, and a kind of wire fence where more of them were creeping up and around the wire. She also had a small patch of what she explained to be barley, and a fresh patch with tiny buds germinating, which she said would be juniper berries. He noted regular red and green grapes as well. She set about checking the plants for contamination and lining salt around the outside to ward off hungry snails. She used an alcohol spray to get rid of what she called “mealybugs” and rubbed down the leaves of the hops to avoid the chilling effect.
All of it was new information that mostly went over his head, but he loved the fact that she had a project and clearly hoped one day that something might come out of it.
If we get closer, if we do want to continue our relationship, he vowed silently, I’ll find a way to help her with this. Might be nice to help someone else see their dreams come to fruition. Though he knew some people were resistant to being helped, so he’d have to find a genuine way to go about it. Watching her tend to her plants and talk about possible brand names made him smile.
“Smoking Dragon could be a good name,” he said.
“Huh. I’ll put that one down then,” she said with a grin. “Not bad. Not bad at all.” She then looked shy, cheeks coloring a little. “I know it’s not much to look at, but here’s my big secret. My garden is for growing plants used in alcohol.”
“I think it’s brilliant,” Kieran said, meaning it. “I think it’s great you’re doing something like this. Amazing!” Plus a little positive reinforcement could go a long way. God knows some people needed a little more encouragement in their lives to do well.
He broke away from Tegan later, just to explore Whitefall Creek by himself. Fall weather brough the crunch of leaves from many trees, while the evergreens were snug and prepared for winter. Snow graced the tips of the mountains, and he visualized for a moment just flying free, wings catching the drafts, the heat of his body causing faint smoke to emerge around him and white powder to lift from each flap. Except it’d probably be more like solid, packed chunks. The whole area seemed pretty, idealistic to live in if you enjoyed the freedom of the wild and not interacting too much with civilization. Whitefall Creek’s buildings were all stone, some cobbled, obviously adjusted for an environment of rain and wind and snow.
Kieran did prefer warmer climates in general, but his blood allowed him to tolerate the lower temperatures fine. Just a little uncomfortably.
Just in the middle of this dreaming, he heard a voice in his head.
So, where exactly in this town are you?
A feeling not unlike cold water being dumped on him flooded through his mind. The hell? Broxar, you’re here?
A deep, ominous chuckle vibrated through his spine. The kind of chuckle that let him know trouble waited ahead. Of course I am. The family’s been taking a keen interest in you, ever since that unfortunate accident with Morales.
“Unfortunate? He married a shifter. What’s unfortunate about that?”
He married an entirely different species is what. Some mongrel bitch werewolf, you think that’s worthy of being a dragon’s bride? He made a spitting sound, just to emphasize his dislike, and Kieran had a sinking feeling of just what exactly would follow next, considering the high judgment on Broxar’s part.
“You realize I’m planning to go the same way, right? I’ve made it clear I don’t have interest in clan matters anymore. I don’t really know how much clearer I can make this to you.”
It’s not really about what you want. As you full well know. It’s about the fact that you need to curb your heathen habits and return to the fold. Your… fraternizing with humans is over. And if you don’t come, then we’ll be forced to take measures into our own claws.
“You better not be thinking of causing a disturbance in a human residence,” Kieran snapped. “There’s laws against that. We aren’t above everything in the world.”
Perhaps not… but you aren’t above us either. Come home, wayward son. Great things will happen to you if you do. The conversation ended, leaving Kieran in no doubt that Broxar planned to do something unpleasant to the people of Whitefall Creek if Kieran overstayed his welcome.
Trouble was, he didn’t want to let those words bully him into returning to his old life.
He’d had enough of it. Seeing their cruelty firsthand, knowing that frankly, nothing mattered to them but the wealth of their people. God forbid that you defied them. God forbid that you wanted to be independent.
He also didn’t want to leave Tegan just yet. She honestly seemed like a great person. And that wasn’t because they fell into bed together on the first night, and he was… blinded by the sensations of that.
No. He wanted to see what a woman like her could do with her talents. If she’d grow her patch and make her own brand of business, and become a name in the region.
Screw Broxar for thinking he could ruin all of that. Though he resolved to hire some private investigators to help him locate Broxar, and dispose of the problem himself before it got worse.
Chapter Three – Tegan
Tegan suspected something was off a few weeks later, when she started getting intense headaches in the morning, and sometimes nausea that felt as if she’d been in a boat for too long, and the sickness started to get to her. Then there was the bloating to her stomach, and something she heard Emory say about how her mother always complained about how children wrecked her body prompted Tegan to get a pregnancy test, hoping against hope that this wasn’t actually the reason behind it.
Though they did have unprotected sex. Tegan did take the pill as well, but she knew that alone wasn’t perfect. Ideally you wanted everyone using some form of protection, but even then, sometimes something happened anyway.