Lexie and Baz stood looking up and down the street. The old buildings drowsed in the sun, as if they were waiting for someone to come wake them up.
“Honestly,” Lexie said, planting her hands on her hips, “I was expecting it to be in much worse shape than this.”
“Yeah, same.” Baz surveyed the town, his gaze distant, picturing not just what was in front of him (decaying buildings surrounded with wildflowers) but what it might be: a busy, bustling small town, with storefronts and parked cars and people browsing at shop windows.
Ever since any of them could remember, the old gold rush town had been owned by a company that was theoretically planning to fix it up and use it as a tourist attraction. And ever since they could remember, that hadn’t happened. They used to come out here now and then, like many of the other local kids.
But now, as an adult, Baz was struck by how little damage and graffiti there was for the old town having been the haunt ofthe local teens for decades. He remembered how, as kids, they’d always had a sense that they should treat the town respectfully. The town never had a bad feeling to it, but there was definitely an awareness that they ought to tread lightly in this space.
And now it wastheirspace.
He still couldn’t get over the fact that they actually owned a town. Well, technically Lexie’s mom and Fern’s mom had put it in a trust for them; both of their families had money. Now that Baz, the oldest of the kids, was past his twenty-fifth birthday—well past, in fact—the whole place was theirs: lock, stock, and a few old wooden barrels too.
It was going to take some getting used to.
One part of him didn’t need any encouragement. He could already feel the bear inside him straining eagerly. It was fascinated with the wild world full of scents and smells, urging him to shift and look around.
“If you’re not too busy woolgathering, let’s get started,” Lexie declared, jumping up in the back of Baz’s truck, where her dirt bike was strapped in with a bunch of other gear. “Help me get Baby unloaded.”
“I think it’s time to get all of this unloaded,” Axl remarked in a lazy drawl. “Don’t forget, I’m just here as a beast of burden. You all are going to be on your own soon.”
Maida and Declan had wandered up the street, taking their argument with them, but now they came back. “Is there someone else staying here, Uncle Axl?” Maida asked.
“The neighbor comes over and checks on it now and then,” Axl replied. “She keeps the weeds down by grazing her goats around here. You’ll probably meet her sooner or later. Anyone want to take the other end of this generator?”
Declan grasped the opposite handle of the metal case with easy shifter strength. “It looks like the grass along some of the buildings has been trampled.”
“Could be visitors, hikers, deer. Any number of things.” As Baz and Declan took over the generator, Axl handed down a flowered suitcase. “This belongs to someone.”
“Mine!” Fern cried, darting back to grab it.
Soon their gear was stacked in a large pile beside the trucks and the van. They had brought camping supplies, tools, the generator and fuel for it, cases of packaged food and perishable food in coolers, and jugs of drinking water. Baz could hear rushing water somewhere out of sight, probably Silver Creek, the waterway that the town and its long-abandoned silver mine had been built around. But there was no guarantee it would be clean enough to drink in their human forms.
“It really feels like we’re going to be roughing it,” Lexie remarked, propping her dirt bike up against the corner of the general store.
“That’s becauseyouare,” Maida said pointedly.
“Come on, Maidie-May, stay with us,” Fern begged.
“Not a chance. I know the rest of you enjoy having bugs in your teeth and dirt under your fingernails, but I’m fond of running water and refrigeration.”
“Don’t forget cell service,” Lexie pointed out. “We don’t have phone capabilities here, so if we want to get in touch with anyone, we’re going to have to walk or drive down to the highway.”
“And you allwantto stay here?” Maida said in disbelief. “Anyway, someone’s got to get the van back to Mom.”
“On that topic,” Axl said, leaning a hip against the truck. “Does anyone want me to leave my truck here? I can hitch a ride back with Maida, and once I leave, you all are going to be down to Baz’s truck and Lexie’s bike.”
Baz realized that the others were looking at him to make the decision, just like back when he was the oldest of their pack of kids. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary. I mean, we mightnot have phone service yet, but there are neighbors, and the highway’s right down there. We’re notthatisolated. And if we have mechanical trouble, Lexie can fix anything.”
He said this in part to head off Lexie arguing with him, because one thing that had also been true ever since they were kids was that everyone expected him to make the decisions—and then complained about the decisions he made. But he was pretty good at Lexie-handling by now, and as he’d hoped, she glowed happily, any disagreements derailed by the recognition of her superior mechanical skills.
Declan scowled, because he had never met a single statement Baz made that he couldn’t argue with. But to Baz’s surprise, he didn’t actually say anything.
Maybe they all had grown up.
Or perhaps the arguments were going to kick off in earnest as soon as Uncle Axl left and there were no authority figures left to turn to, besides each other.
“In that case, I guess I’ll head out,” Axl said. “Oh, there’s a picnic basket from you all’s moms somewhere in that pile of stuff, so don’t let it go to waste. I think it includes one or two of Saffron’s amazing pies.”
