Arlo grumbles at me, squinting at the furry beasty in my arms. “Remove his scent glands.”
I gasp, covering his little ears. “He doesn’t mean that,” I whisper to my pet.
“Birdie, I mean it.”
“Pet him.” I go to lift Cooper off my chest, only to have Arlo scuttle backwards. The normally balanced man stumbles into the doorway, causing his twin to laugh even harder.
Between gasping breaths, she points at him. “You are afraid of a skunk.”
“Then you hold him!” Arlo throws back at her, righting himself with irritation as he fixes the cuffs of his flannel like it’s a tailored suit jacket.
It is! It’s a mountain man suit.
A flannel is a redneck suit.
“No.” Arlo points at me, a deep frown wrinkling his face.
“Aww, he loves you.” I pet Cooper like a villain, feeling no shame in this moment.
“I mean no to whatever thought just crossed your face.” He crosses his arms, and his muscles bunch and pull, distracting me momentarily.
“How?”
“Because, Birdie” —Arlo’s voice dips for a moment, his eyes sparkling— “you wear every little emotion on your face.”
“I am not that readable.” Is that even a word? Well, it is today.
“Huh.” Autumn snorts before grabbing her brother and pushing him down the hall. A moment later, she yells, “Lark, acquire the scented bunny.”
“Cat,” I mutter. “He’s a scented cat.”
“Cats don’t hop.” Autumn walks back in with Lark on her heels, and without fear, unlike her twin, she picks up Cooper and snuggles him for a second before handing him over to Lark, who just takes each moment with a grace that none of us adults could achieve.
“He likes you,” I tell her as I dust off his little hairs.
“I once came across a nest of them. Mom wouldn’t let me keep them, but…” She drops her voice to a whisper. “I kept them in the shed in a little box, anyway.”
Tilting my head, I see Autumn in a new light. Of all the things to bond with a person over, I didn’t expect it to be Cooper. But the half smirk on her face and the way her eyes follow Lark as she moves out of the room with Cooper says it all. She has a soft spot for animals.
I didn’t expect that, and something about it warms my heart.
The moment dissolves as Bloom hops off the table, her feet clanking down on the hardwood. “Well, that was more excitement than I’m used to.” With her hands on her dainty hips, she releases a long shiver, her eyes finding mine with an anxious flicker.
“Let’s do this,” Paris shouts in the air, startling all of us. With a wink, she saunters outside without a coat, holding a full bottle of wine.
“Really, it’s amazing she is such an incredible mother,” Kenzie mutters under her breath. “Because the woman is a hot mess.”
“That’s because, as moms, we save all of our energy for the creatures we spawn.” I tug my own coat on and follow her out into the chilly night, though it’s still warmer, or rather seasonably warm for this time of year—a stifling forty degrees Fahrenheit.
To me, it may as well be as cold as the Arctic.
With a full body shiver, I follow Paris into the night. Our path is lit by a motion light on the back of the house, then a couple of small beams held by Autumn and Kenzie.
It’s the first time I’ve been out here in the graveyard, and it does not disappoint. It’s not just spooky, but I swear there is a slight fog that hovers over the ancient graveyard. The faces of several headstones are filled not just with debris from time, but mold, the words no longer readable but no less fascinating.
Several larger stones rise from the earth, their crosses standing the test of time against the harsh elements.
“This graveyard is as old as my family roots here in this town.” Autumn walks up beside me as we carefully navigate between the stones. “My great-great-great-something or other built the original chapel—not the one Arlo showed you, but the one in ruins. That’s where we are heading. It’s the spookiest place out here and my mom’s showstopper on the tour.”
