“Want any help carrying things?”
“I would love that, thank you.”
She hadn’t realized that she had acquired so muchstuffsince she’d been here. The cups and other pottery alone took up bothFern’s hands, and if not for having brought the sleeping bag down the day before, Arden would have despaired of cramming everything else into her pack.
They walked back together in the fresh morning sun. The sound of hammering echoed down the street. Declan and Maida were up on the windmill, working on it. The blades turned a few notches with a creaky squeal, then stopped again.
“Wind power?” Fern called up to them.
“Hey, it’s free!” Maida shouted back down.
“Do either of you know anything about windmills?”
“Hands-on learning,” Declan replied.
“Have fun and don’t fall.”
“I can fly,” was Declan’s response. If mentioning his shift form in front of Arden bothered him, he didn’t show it.
As they continued on along the boardwalk toward the store, Arden asked, “Is Maida a dragon, too?”
Fern started to answer. Then she paused and her forehead wrinkled for a moment.
“Fern? Are you all right?”
“Oh ... yes.” Still, Fern almost missed a step on the boardwalk, and Arden had to steady her. “Uh, no. She’s a bear.” But she sounded oddly unsure about it.
After the bustle and commotion and even danger of the last few days, Arden found that it was a simple and beautiful pleasure to settle into a long, peaceful day with absolutely nothing that shehadto do. She gathered cleaning supplies and spent a few hours in the storekeeper’s house, where she scrubbed floors and windows, collected what few musty, mouse-damaged fabrics remained and made a trash heap outside for later disposal, and then started setting out her own things. The row of old crockery on a windowsill was the first thing she set up. There was an old iron bedframe that she didn’t think she couldmove by herself, but that was going to either need to go, or get a good de-rusting and a proper mattress on it.
Up on the roof, Baz and Lexie clattered around for hours, creating ominous banging and cracking noises, occasionally sounding like they were about to fall through. Arden looked up nervously whenever dust sifted down, but so far it seemed like the hammering was the worst of it.
The day stretched before her, long and golden. Breakfast had long since worn off. She ate a granola bar from an open box of them on Baz’s store counter and wandered out into the street.
It was a lovely, peaceful afternoon. Music was playing somewhere. It wasn’t Lexie’s usual classic rock; instead it was melodious and haunting. Arden looked up at the newly installed satellite dish sticking up above the roof of Lexie’s machine shop, and realized that with satellite phone and internet, they now had the ability to stream music as well.
It made the place feel a little less isolated, but it was also nice to have the sense of connection to the outside world. Arden stood on the boardwalk and felt something inside her slowly unclench, a tight knot of worry that had been there for so long that it had almost become part of her. And now she felt it relax.
She didn’t have to hide. She didn’t have to run. Grant was no longer looking for her, and everyone here knew exactly who she was, and they were all okay with it. Or at least, if not precisely okay, then they were willing to accept her anyway.
With the sun warm on her shoulders, she walked up the street toward the sound of the music. Down the hill, she heard the distant goats bleating. Birds were singing in the trees.
Arden had assumed that the music-listener would turn out to be Fern or Maida. It wasn’t until she reached the end of the street with the windmill that she realized the person listening to it was Declan. He was sitting on one of the wide rungs halfway up the windmill ladder, legs swinging and a small speaker sittingbeside him, playing those beautiful, melodious tones. It was meditation music, nothing at all like what Arden would have guessed he’d listen to; she would have expected heavy metal or punk.
She started to walk away, but Declan looked down and said, “It’s nice out here, isn’t it?”
Arden paused. “Yes.” Resting a hand on the windmill structure, she looked up at him. “Did you and Maida make any progress?” She was going to ask if they’d gotten it working, but since the blades weren’t turning, the answer was clearly no.
Declan shrugged. His usual leather jacket was off, leaving him in a black singlet with bare shoulders and arms. “Not really, but it isn’t urgent. It’s just a way to pass the time.”
Arden didn’t get the feeling that he hated her being here, so she sat on the bottom step. Declan and his sister really were different from the others, she thought. She could sense the way that Baz, Lexie, and Fern all loved this place, as she was coming to love it herself. Declan and Maida were more reluctant. And yet, in his own way, Declan seemed just as committed. It was to protect Windrock, Arden knew, that he had tried to drive her away.
She didn’t really want to bring up the topic, with the two of them having a moment of relatively comfortable companionship for the first time since she had been here. But at the same time, if they were both going to stay, she felt that they needed to resolve it somehow.
“Did you and Baz work out what you needed to?” she ventured.
Declan snorted a short, unexpected laugh. “Oh, you mean with our drag-out brawl in the mud? Honestly, I guess ... maybe. He’s got the makings of a pretty good alpha. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to agree with every one of his decisions on principle. I’ll still tell him when I think he’s wrong.”
“Every leader needs someone to do that,” came a voice from an unexpected direction.
