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Chen carefully arranged her armload of wood into the crate next to the stove. Of all the things in the cabin, the stove had to be her favorite. Ancient, heavy, and solid iron, it could turn a half-dozen logs into enough heat to keep the entire place warm for days. Dust and pine resin invaded her nostrils, bringing a flood of memories. Her grandfather had loved this cabin, and she’d learned how to live in the wild at his knee before sleeping next to the big, warm stove.
They weren’t always happy memories, but they were hers.
The remoteness was part of the appeal, in her grandfather’s opinion. In hers too, if she was honest. She loved the closeness that she had with the team, but everyone needed a place they could recover. Even her. Elena had hated the primitiveness of it all, but she’d appreciated the lack of technologies to distract Chen from paying attention to her.
Still there were limits to how remote she could be—the TJF still required that she maintain a military-grade booster on her omnidevice. It was the only way she could get a signal this far removed from Skyreach or any of Farhope’s other major cities.
Behind her, Nujalik grumbled loudly at Chen’s woolgathering, pacing to the other end of the couch and flopping over without breaking the stream of vocalizations. Chen glanced at the wolf over her shoulder. “Those aren’t even real wolf noises, you know. You sound like a cat.”
Nujalik glared at her, and she could feel her wolf’s disdain.
She wiped her hands on her trousers, breath leaving a misty cloud in the air, before building a fire in the stove’s belly. “I promise, it won’t be that bad. I’ll get the last of her stuff cleaned up, and then it’ll be just you, me, and the woods. You like running around out here, remember?” Most of the time, anyway. Then again, it wasn’t usually this cold up here. “You’ll get a little PT, your leg will get straightened out, and we’ll be back to the squad in no time. May swore to me they aren’t going to have any fun without us.”
She didn’t believe that last bit any more than Nujalik did. The fireteam encapsulated all the family she had left, and a better one than her birth family had ever been. Protecting them—from Triptych, from pirates, or from each other—was second nature for her. The pack was eternal, but not having them around ached like a missing tooth. She needed them as much as they needed her.
She needed them to need her.
That thought verged on self-pity, and Chen distracted herself by lighting a fire in the stove. Her pride buoyed when she only needed to spark her starter once to start the carefully assembled wood. She’d been careful to keep the fire little. The stove was more than capable of warming the small cabin with a minimal fuel, and too big of a fire turned the place into a sauna.
She smiled wanly and snorted. Elena had overfed the stove at one point, and they’d had to keep the doors open for hours to bring the temperature back down below sweltering. Not that the ensuing sweaty nakedness had been particularly unpleasant, but...
The unwelcome memory focused her attention on the echoes of her former lover that hung about the cabin like timeworn cobwebs; reminders of Elena were tucked away in the eaves and the corners of the shelves to be stumbled over when least expected, and loaded with ghosts ready to inject a painful cocktail of memories.
Chen closed the stove’s grate and adjusted the flue. Nujalik’s sympathy and concern settled around her shoulders like a warm blanket, and she crossed the small room to press her face between the wolf’s tufted ears. “Don’t worry, I’m not planning to mope about any more than I’m planning to let you rest. This trip is about healing. For both of us.”
She inhaled, relishing the soft, musky smell of her wolf’s fur, then forced herself to stand up. Physical reminders had to go first. Chen grabbed an empty wooden box out of the pantry and walked through the cabin, collecting Elena’s things. A toothbrush and toothpaste that waited in the bathroom. A collection of gels and lotions in the shower. A pair of earbuds resting in their case in the bedside drawer. A faded scrunchie under the bed. A single sock in the mudroom. The discarded cover to Elena’s old omnidevice.
The crate had been too large by half. Collected together, the detritus of their shared life looked pathetic and small, rattling about in too much space like a child wearing an adult’s clothing. The nearness of them robbed them of power, turned them into the junk they were rather than the harbingers of old memories and lost time. It should have hurt more to see their relationship reduced to nothing, but instead it felt freeing. For the first time in months the muscles in her neck didn’t feel clenched and painful. She was half-tempted to throw the stuff out completely, but that would have been petty. Junk or not, the things were technically Elena’s. Returning them was the right thing to do.
Later.
Perhaps May would help. They had explosives disposal training after all. Who better to defuse a volatile bomb?
Chen shoved the crate into the back of the pantry, where she could deal with it when the time came. Or possibly forget about it altogether. That got all the physical reminders out of the way. She had no doubt there’d still be ghosts of memory hiding, waiting for their moment to pounce, but for now she’d inoculated the place as best she could.
It would take filling the cabin with better, happier memories to banish the ghosts once and for all, and that just needed time.
Her omni trilled with the insistent ring of an incoming call. Her heart thudded into her throat. Only the Hunting Cry could reach her device at the cabin, and only while on this side of the moon. If they were calling...
She tapped on the speaker and immediately got the three-note tone that indicated a secure transmission from the constellation. Chen held her breath and waited. With the Cry in orbit around Adiona, any live communication would have a substantial delay. After thirty seconds, Commander Penzak’s voice filled the small room.
“Specialist, I have a report here that says you ignored communication with medical services about the health of your wolf.” The commander’s growl of displeasure was the closest she’d heard to an emotion in the Ghost’s voice since she’d joined the Rangers.
She frowned. Of course Priddy would rat her out. Attractive smile or not, that’s who he was—he poked his nose and his instruments where they didn’t belong. He looked for weakness and wasn’t satisfied until he found or created one. She swallowed against the sting of being called on the carpet by her CO. “I’m following the suggestions that were given, sir.”
She walked to the pantry and confirmed her food supply again, busywork to fill time and distract her from the dead air. Her message would take just as long as his had, doubled for his response to return, plus however long he needed to compose his message.
His answer came ninety seconds later. “Part of that recommendation was to present your wolf for a physical assessment of her ability in full gravity.” There was a pause, and she could visualize him stabbing his fingers into his hair in annoyance. “Things are getting too hot for me to sideline one of my best support soldiers because she’s too stubborn to take care of her wolf. Your fireteam needs both of you in top condition. This means you will work with Dr. Priddy to assess your wolf’s progress, and then execute his advised exercise program to build up your wolf’s strength. In case you and I aren’t clear, this is not me asking. Is that understood, Specialist?”
“Sir, yes sir.” The response came automatically, pushing past the sour bile at the back of her throat. Getting in trouble was Grenville’s job. Occasionally Inouye’s. She was the good ranger. The example the others were told to be more like. “To be fair, sir, he’s just a civilian. He doesn’t understand the amount of strain that wolves can take. Hell, he barely understands the nature of the wolfbond. If something was wrong, Nujalik would tell me.”
“He’s a top-notch veterinarian, with enough honors attached to his diploma that the admiral’s chest looks bare in comparison. Further, he has saved your wolf’s leg once already. I trust him to know what’s what. So will you. You have your orders, and I have your agreement. Penzak out.” The line went dead with a crackle followed by the two-tone beep of the encryption terminating.
Chen stared at her omnidevice with a scowl. “That could have gone better.”
Nujalik flattened her ears and huffed, and Chen could practically hear the wolf’s What did you expect? response.
She flopped onto the couch next to her wolf and watched the flames dance behind the grate. Her fingers burrowed into the wolf’s dense fur, black under the cabin’s carefully installed polarized lights. It was another concession to modernity, and like so many decisions, it had been on Elena’s behalf. The woman had been incapable of seeing Nujalik without the extra lights, and the third time she’d tripped over the wolf, Chen offered to get the same lights as the rangers used on the Hunting Cry to keep their wolves visible to the other shipboard personnel.
It wouldn’t help in the dark, but it was a suitable compromise, and one that protected Nujalik. That made it an easy choice.
Her hands stroked her wolf’s shoulders, massaging carefully. In response, Nujalik stretched and pushed back against her, eyes closing as she basked in the attention.
The relative quiet was interrupted by a knock at the door.
Instantly, Nujalik was on alert; she dropped to the floor and moved to one side of the door. As Chen rose, she tapped the icon on her omnidevice that turned off the polarized lights. Her wolf returned to its natural state, a blurry mirror of its surroundings. The wolfbond connecting them allowed Chen to know where her animal was regardless, and she made two quick hand signals instructing Nujalik to watch and stay hidden. If the visitor was a threat, the wolf would know what to do, but no sense in tipping them off to the wolf’s presence unnecessarily.
Chen put on her most disarming smile and opened the door. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting visitors this time of y—you.” Her words went to ice as she recognized the person on the other side.
Dr. Javad Priddy brushed a lock of wavy black hair out of his face and smiled like she’d offered a perfectly pleasant greeting. “Me. You know, it’s lucky for you the TJF won’t let me charge mileage for my house calls.”
#
JAVAD STOMPED THE LIGHT dusting of snow off his trainers before he stepped into the cabin. Despite his attempt to bring a little levity, Chen was clearly furious to see him. No matter. He just had to let her know that her hiding place, cabin, murder-shack, whatever it was had been compromised. Then he could get to the spaceport and grab the first flight to Khonsu before the people who wanted her wolf could come after his family. She was a ranger, surely she could keep herself safe or arrange an extraction.
The cabin interior was as rustic and unpolished as it appeared from the outside, with printed wood slats covering the walls interspersed with what looked like actual wood from the forests surrounding them. Other than a few woven blankets hung on the walls to provide color and insulation, the decoration was austere. Somehow, though, it all seemed to work together to create a cozy, homey feeling that he wouldn’t have expected from the reserved ranger.
He rubbed his hands together briskly. “You could have picked someplace colder, you know. I’m reasonably certain there are asteroids in the belt that don’t get any light whatsoever.”
“Then I’d have light-affective depression to deal with, and where’s the fun in that?” She stepped back from the door to let him in, apparently resigned to his presence.
“Did you just make a joke?” He pried his shoes off and placed them in the melt tray next to a heavy pair of boots. The dichotomy of his footwear choices versus hers highlighted her comfort in the remote wilderness.
“Don’t worry. It won’t happen again.” Her deadpan delivery made him wonder if that too was supposed to be funny, but it seemed wiser not to ask. “Besides,” she continued, “there wouldn’t be any snow, and then you’d have nothing to complain about.”
“I could find something, I’m certain.” He smiled and resettled his glasses. He wasn’t positive, but he thought he saw the distortion of her wolf hiding under the table. “I know you didn’t bother to read the suggestions I sent you, but there’s a distinct chance that the cold could mask some of the pain Nujalik’s experiencing.”
“No one comes up here in the off-season, so it gives her plenty of room to run about and fewer people to interfere.” She narrowed her eyes at him from her spot near the kitchen. “At least usually.”
The cold from the stone floor started to seep through his socks, and Javad risked a glance at Chen’s feet. They were wisely wrapped in heavy wool socks and a pair of warm-looking slippers. He took a few more steps into the cabin, until he had his feet on the thin rug that indicated the main living area.
She caught his gaze and smirked before crossing the room to sit on the low couch in front of him. “How did you even know where to look for me?”
In the dining room near where she’d been, the murky blur of her wolf shifted slightly. It was definitely Nujalik, trying to decide what to do next.
Javad decided to play coy and not call attention to the umbra wolf, instead warming his hands over an honest-to-God wood-burning stove. He hadn’t even been aware those were a real thing anymore. “You mean when you didn’t return my message? Or do you mean when you didn’t advise your doctor where you were taking a patient who was supposed to be under observation?” He gave her a quick grin. “I have my means.”
Chen scoffed. “Meaning that chatterbox Akomi told you.” She shook her head. “I knew I should have requested a different pilot.”
Javad looked for somewhere to sit, but the couch was the only real space in the living room, and it felt presumptuous to sit next to her uninvited. The floor was right out; even the rug wasn’t doing much to mitigate the cold radiating up from the stone. He went down to one knee, which put him eye level with Nujalik’s night-sky gaze from under the table. “Hey there, girl. How’s your leg feeling?”
The blur scintillated some as her tail swept back and forth at the attention, and she eased out from the table in a low belly crawl but stopped a half meter out of his reach. She leaned in, and he could hear her sniffing the air between them.
Chen stood abruptly and walked into the small kitchen to fill a kettle with water. “I’m making tea. If you knew where to come find me, you hardly dressed for it.”
“Let’s say my unnamed informant left out the part about how rural this place was.” Which was an understatement. He’d assumed she’d be closer to the sun-swept plains rather than up in the mountains. He’d dressed in long pants and sleeves for comfort, but the cloth was thin in the biting wind outside. His hover had been heated, which had been a grace on the drive up.
Nujalik clearly debated whether to approach closer. He imagined the wolf was likely confused to see and smell him someplace other than the medical suite on the Hunting Cry. After digging into his pocket, he pulled out a soft, beef-flavored chew. “Can I bribe you with food?”
“Well, you’ve found her weakness,” Chen muttered from the kitchen. “She won’t leave you alone.”
Indeed, as predicted, the umbra wolf came forward to take the treat, making a grumbly, yowling noise as she mouthed the chew into pieces. The blur bumped and rubbed against him, throwing him off-balance until he was better able to brace himself. He combed his fingers into the wolf’s exposed belly fur. “What’s all the noise about? I thought you liked it.”
Chen huffed again. “Oh, trust me, that’s the happy sound. She’s a smorgasbord of odd noises.”
He continued to scratch and pet while Nujalik squirmed playfully, and the bubbly sense of joy in the contact danced through his veins. “Well, I think they’re adorable.”
The kettle whistled, and Chen pulled it off the heat. “They’re a lot less cute when you’re trying to sleep. Sugar?”
“I hadn’t realized we were already at the ‘cute pet names’ stage of our relationship.” He grinned as Chen sputtered. Teasing her was as easy as it was rewarding. “But seriously, milk’s great if you have it. Otherwise I’m fine with black.”
“Red, in this case.” She offered him a mug, and he wrapped his fingers around it, relishing the almost uncomfortable heat soaking into his hands from the ceramic. “It should be steeped enough, but I don’t know how strong you take it.”
Javad paused, on the verge of making another inappropriate comment, and changed his mind. He needed to deliver his warning and go. His family needed him. Whether they knew it or not, they were counting on him. Still, he’d come all this way; the smart thing to do would be to check her wolf in full gravity. “Look, I don’t want to intrude on your time any longer than necessary, so we can put Nujalike through her paces as soon as you’re ready.”
Chen nodded. “Drink your tea first.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He resisted the urge to salute, mostly because it would have meant releasing the mug. Whatever tea she’d brewed was fantastic, a rooibos with notes of blueberry, coconut, and vanilla set against a robust herbal backdrop. He’d expected something heavy and earthy to be more Chen’s speed, maybe a pu-erh or a half-fermented oolong. There were depths to the ranger he hadn’t expected. In another situation, he’d want more time to get to know her. But his family needed him, and after?
He didn’t want to think about after.
He took another long, savoring sip. “This is fantastic.”
She shrugged. “The bio-fabricators can’t print anything close to real tea. I keep a stash of the good stuff down here so it’s a treat. Keeps me from getting spoiled on the Cry.”
Nujalik left his side, then returned a moment later to drop a sodden cloth ball in his lap. He stared down at it with a chuckle. “Why thank you, Nujalik! You’re right, I was ignoring you. Where are my manners?”
Chen chuckled uncomfortably as she glared at the blur of her wolf. “You know better than that. Let him finish his drink.”
He didn’t need to be wolfbonded to hear the unspoken so he’ll leave us alone that followed her request. He finished his tea, then set the mug on a nearby side table. “No, it’s fine. Actually, it’s perfect.” He fished the soggy ball out of his lap with a smile and held it up as he stood. “Is this what you wanted?”
Nujalik’s focus was laser sharp, studying his hand for the slightest twitch to indicate where he might throw the ball. He’d only been around umbra wolves for six months, but Javad doubted he’d ever get used to—or bored with—their amazing intensity and intelligence. None of the other canines he’d worked with were half as clever, and he’d worked with some frighteningly smart animals.
Now he was complicit in endangering one.
Javad shoved down the icy guilt twisting in his stomach. He’d come to warn them. He needed to do so and get out. Chen was smart and skilled enough to take care of herself. He took a step for the door, holding the ball out and watching as Nujalik dance-stepped along the floor to keep close. “You coming, Ranger?”
She nodded and set her mug down, and he tossed the ball into the kitchen. Nujalik bolted after it, and he tugged on his shoes while she retrieved it. He’d only gotten one on before she laid the ball at his feet like an offering.
“You’ll have to throw it farther than that,” Chen said.
He did, skimming the toy down the hall opposite the kitchen toward what he assumed were the cabin’s bed- and bathrooms. Nujalik took off eagerly.
“Now you’ve done it,” Chen said with a quiet laugh. “You’ve proven you can throw the ball. And you gave her food. She’ll never let you rest.”
Warmth filled his chest. He’d take that kernel of acceptance anytime. “I’m waiting for the downside.”
“I’ll point it out again when your arm aches and you’ve thrown it a hundred times. I guarantee you’ll wear out before she does. The wolfbond increases her endurance.”
“The rangers too, from what I hear.” The innuendo tumbled out before he could think better of it, and he felt the warmth in his blood change to heat in his cheeks.
Chen narrowed her eyes. “You’d better believe it.”
Not the response he was expecting, and even she seemed taken aback by it after the fact. Rather than spend any more confusion on it, he focused on Nujalik. The cabin was too small to really see her movement, but the people contacting him might already be waiting outside. Chen made the decision for him, donning her boots and opening the door. He hesitated a moment, then offered up a wordless prayer and whipped the ball toward the distant tree line.
Nujalik charged after her prey. He held his breath, watching the blur of her shape moving over the snow. In the sunlight, it was easier to trace the edge of the blur and study her gait. What should have been a single, fluid motion hitched every third step. Both back legs were popping together, a bunny hop that kept her full weight off the hip.
The cold that seeped into his blood had nothing to do with the weather. Not this too. It would be bad enough telling Chen she was in danger. Telling her that her wolf’s hips might fail would add injury to insult. The fist closing around his throat made it difficult to swallow, let alone talk.
He searched for solutions in the symptoms. Nujalik returned the ball, and he tossed it yet again. Now that he knew what to look for, the signs were easy to spot. Even with the wolf’s natural camouflage obscuring her shape, he could see how her hips were wider than her shoulders. How she rolled the leg out while sitting, if only slightly.
It was intermittent. He’d caught it early. They had time.
But he also had no doubt in his mind that the wolf’s hip was failing.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s going on?” Chen watched him with predatory focus. “It’s worse than you thought.”
“I won’t know how bad things are, or even if they are bad, until she gets some more time in gravity. This is a baseline. She could merely be adjusting to the heavier weight of her body.”
Chen growled skeptically, then noticed his hovercar and took two steps toward it. “Wait. Did you drive up here in this?”
“It’s what they had at the rental agency. Besides, it’s not like I needed it to be fancy. It only had to get me out here.”
She growled. “You’re lucky it did that. You should know hovers handle like shit on uneven ground. Drifting snow is the worst. And even if you didn’t know, the rental company should have. What idiot let you bring it up into the mountains?”
“I didn’t exactly tell them where I was headed.” He watched Nujalik to cover his confusion. Was she right? He tried to remember what he knew about hovers. Sadly, it wasn’t much. He hadn’t needed a vehicle since before school, first living close to campus, and then living on board the Hunting Cry. Walking served his needs better.
“Fuck.” Chen shook her head with one last frustrated look at the car. “At least it’s still early in the season. Another month and it wouldn’t have mattered because you’d never have gotten it up here in the first place. There’s no way you’d make it back down the valley if we got a big snow.”
Well, she was already upset. May as well compound her misfortunes. “There’s something else we need to talk about.”
She gave him a wary look, like he was about to grow fangs.
Javad opened his mouth to explain when Nujalik sounded a low, distressed whimper. He snapped his head around to zero in on the umbra wolf, who had lowered herself to the snow-dusted ground, limbs splayed wide. Confused by the unnatural stance, he started to step toward her. Chen hit him on his second step, knocking the air from his lungs as she hammered him into the frozen soil. He opened his mouth to complain when he felt the tremor vibrate beneath him.
His earlier confusion doubled. Someone must be digging nearby. Or blasting, maybe. But he didn’t hear any explosions. He pushed out of Chen’s grip and tried to stand, but she tugged him back down. “Stay down, you fool! It’s a groundquake!”
#
CHEN PINNED PRIDDY to the soil with her arm and forced herself not to yell at him. What kind of person would stand up while the ground was still bucking around them? Between that and his utterly useless clothing, she was beginning to think he’d never been outside of a spaceship. Except that was a discredit to her squad leader—May was a deep-spacer, part of the colonial network on the edge of the belt that barely recognized the Three Systems, and they hadn’t had any trouble avoiding stupidity when they went planetside.
Nujalik’s presence dimmed, and Chen focused on keeping in touch with her wolf. The concentration required to feel along their wolfbond was concerning, but something she’d have to save for later evaluation. First, she had to make sure everyone was safe. The umbra wolf was surprised by the quake and the ground not behaving in the stable manner she was used to, but with four legs, she didn’t seem to have any concerns about balance.
Priddy still struggled against her weight, and Chen turned her attention back to him. She had to admit that under the lightweight, loose-fitting clothes, he apparently kept himself fit. In better circumstances, she might have even enjoyed being pressed against him, but right now he was panicked and trying to get back up.
Unfortunately for him, that was a dumb idea, and she was stronger.
“Will you stay still until the shaking stops? Have you never been through a groundquake before?”
He stopped fighting enough to look at her, his dark-brown gaze equal parts confused and alarmed. “No. They don’t happen much in space.”
“Well, down here they’re not uncommon.” Farhope’s lowlands, where the cities and spaceports tended to be, were geologically stable. Whatever sins had been committed to accelerate the terraforming process had left the mountainous northern regions more vulnerable to volcanic activity and the associated quakes. The freeholders, like her grandfather, had accepted them as part of life. It was a price they were eager to pay to not have people living on top of each other.
The tremors stopped. She noticed the absence rather than feeling them slow or end, and she rolled off Priddy and sat up.
He followed suit, combing pine needles out of the wavy mass of his hair with curled fingers. The doctor looked around, wisely checking his hovercar first. “Wait, is that it?”
She snorted. “Is that it, he says. Thirty seconds ago, you were panicking like Johnny Slicksleeves in his first firefight. Now you’re disappointed?”
“Who’s Johnny Sl—?”
Chen dragged her hand down her face. Civilians. “A fresh recruit. Basic ranks don’t have any arm insignia, so their sleeves...”
“Are slick. Got it.” He nodded. “It’s like its own language.”
“Says the person who literally went to school for almost a decade to be able to use Latin, Greek, and whatever other languages have been absorbed into his career.” Chen stood and dusted herself off, then took a quick walk around the cabin’s perimeter, checking for any damage to the foundation.
He jogged after her. “I didn’t expect it to be over so fast.”
“Said every hetero woman, ever...” Chen muttered, then hoped he hadn’t heard.
No such luck. “I’d argue that, but I was seventeen once, so...”
“Last week, by the look of you.” Teasing him shouldn’t be so damn tempting. Annoying him shouldn’t be so fun. She pushed the thought away and focused on the cabin. Fortunately, it had been solidly built. She didn’t see anything wrong with the outside. That meant the inside was probably okay but for a few dislodged goods. Clean up she could handle.
“And you? How’re you doing?” She looked back over her shoulder, prepping her answer, only to find Priddy on one knee, petting her wolf. Nujalik leaned into the attention, more than happy to flaunt her newfound friendship along the wolfbond.
Chen crushed the disappointment and annoyance, knowing it would only confuse her wolf if she sensed it. “Four legs are more stable than two. She’s just hoping you’ll throw the ball some more.”
“I see.” He peeled the ball out of her mouth and squeaked it once before flinging it into the woods. “It’s safe?”
She shrugged. “Define safe. That could have been a precursor to a larger snap. There could be aftershocks for days or weeks. A rogue meteor could slam into the surface on the far side of the moon and wipe out most of Farhope’s population in an eyeblink. Any of those could happen at any moment, and there’s nothing we can do to stop them. All we can do is prepare for them.” She finished her perimeter patrol and looked over at his hovercar. A sick sense of dread did a finger-crawl up the back of her neck. If the quake had been centered farther south, if it dislodged snow at the pass...
Chen stepped onto the covered porch and began taking her boots off. “Keep throwing, I just want to check something really quick.”
Her wolf seemed happy for the distraction, and Chen went into the cabin and grabbed the bright yellow emergency band radio out from under the sink. After cranking its generator for a minute, she flipped the switch, and it hissed to life.
“—il crews can get the pass cleared. Repeating. Avalanches and debris have closed the roads at Norgay pass and Wangdi pass. Emergency crews are requesting that no one attempt the roads or to cross the pass until crews can get the pass cleared. Rep—” She snapped off the radio and mouthed a quiet prayer that no one had been hurt.
“Shit.” Priddy stood in the cabin’s doorway. As if he could sense her annoyance, he headed off the question she was preparing. “I wanted to see if you needed help, so I headed into the cabin. That’s all.”
She looked around. “Everything here seems sound. Apart from the obvious.” The planetoid in the room kept sitting there, and neither of them seemed able to address it. “I need to run the water to make sure the pipes are solid, but they were built for this, so I assume they’re fine. And I haven’t checked the bedroom to see what got knocked over.”
The bedroom. Singular. She slammed a wall over those thoughts like a bulkhead. That wasn’t a thing she even wanted to think about right now.
“So...” he started. “How long will it take them to clear the pass?”
The crews were pretty efficient, she knew from experience. “A day? Maybe two at the outside. They should be able to get at least one lane open. Until then...”
Until then she was stuck with him.
“I can’t stay here that long,” His voice was more of a plea than a statement of fact. “I need to go.”
“Remember what I said about things being out of your control? Here an example.” The sympathy she felt trying to take root in her chest annoyed her, but Chen couldn’t bring herself to crush it out. “Like I said. It’s no more than a couple days.”
Nujalik padded into the cabin and dropped the ball at Priddy’s feet.
Chen shook her head. “Just because he’s stuck here doesn’t mean he’s going to throw for you the whole time.”
The umbra wolf snorted quietly, picked up the ball, and moved to curl up near the warmth of the stove.
“Is she pouting?” He sounded more amused than surprised. “Or was that more of a ‘we’ll see who’s right?’”
There it was again, like the vet had been able to understand her wolf. Like he could eavesdrop in on the wolfbond. The way it seemed he could almost see her, even without polarized light. It wasn’t perfect, but at this point neither was her bond. She resisted the urge to give Nujalik a dirty look. “It was definitely the latter. She has her own feelings on the subject.”
Priddy smiled sheepishly, standing in the doorway and letting the heat out into the wilderness. She hadn’t asked him to shut the door yet, but she supposed she’d have to soon. He pinched the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses. “I’m sorry. I hadn’t intended to horn in on your leave. I just wanted to check on Nujalik and get out of your hair. I’m sorry that I’ve suddenly created a problem.”
Which, to facilitate, he’d clearly interrogated Akomi and pressured her CO. But he felt he was doing it for the right reasons, and she found it hard to disagree with the intent, even if she didn’t love the result. “If I thought you had the power to create earthquakes, you’d have reason to apologize. It just is. I’m going to go make sure the bedroom and plumbing are okay, and then I need to take stock of our supplies. I hadn’t been expecting a guest.”
“What can I do to help?”
“Inventory the chiller unit. I don’t have a fabricator out here, so what we have is what we have.” Chen took a deep breath. “And keep Nujalik entertained, but you’ve agreed to that already.”
“Can do,” Priddy said. He knelt next to the umbra wolf and raked his hand through her coat.
Chen could feel the smug satisfaction radiating off her wolf like a second stove. She had to force herself to remember that, attractive or not, the doctor was absolutely off-limits. She distracted herself with checklists the way she usually did. With another person in the cabin, they’d need more firewood. That meant another trip out into the forest. She walked to the short hallway and turned back. “I don’t suppose you brought anything like a sensible cold-weather outfit.”