And another.
Hazel patted his cheek. “You look like a man unsure what to do with his hands.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Wolf said solemnly.
Mabel studied him. “You protected our girl.”
“I protected my girl,” he said.
All three women gave him the same unimpressed look.
“No,” Clara said. “You chose.”
Wolf blinked.
I didn’t miss the way his shoulders eased — just a fraction.
People filtered in slowly after that.
Not crowds.
Neighbors.
Familiar faces.
Farmer Joe bringing eggs “just because.”
Mrs. Ellison from the post office quietly slipping an envelope into my hand with a note that read,You’re not alone.
No one asked questions.
But everyone knewsomething.
And everyone treated me exactly the same — which somehow meant everything.
By noon,the tavern smelled like food and warmth and something steady.
Trigger sang.
Terribly.
Saint worked the register with unsettling cheer.
Havoc leaned against the wall, pretending not to enjoy himself.
And Wolf?
Wolf hovered.
Near the door.
Near the bar.
Nearme.
I took a slow breath, wiped my hands on a towel, and walked over to him.
“You’re doing that thing,” I said quietly.
