“It’s fine,” I said, patting her shoulder. “You’re actually closer than you think.”
Try as I might, I couldn’t stop the surreal feelings that threatened to overtake me. This woman was special. For a moment, I looked into her eyes, searching for a spark of familiarity or something. Could this be her? After all this time? All this searching? She gazed back at me, and while beautiful, I didn’t get that sense of remembrance I thought should be there. We were simply two strangers passing in the night. There was attraction, certainly, but not what I was searching for. The realization hurt more than it should have, but the small flicker of hope faded as I guided her toward the exit of the clearing.
She followed me as I led her toward the path that would take her back to her town. As we walked in companionable silence, I kept trying to figure out why this entire interaction felt a bit like a dream. Like she had earlier, I wondered whether I was going to wake up and find I’d dreamed all of this.
Within ten minutes, the bright lights of Idlewild appeared through the trees, twinkling pinpricks to guide her home. I didn’t want to get any closer than this. Already, I was far closer than I’d been in decades.
“There you go,” I said, pointing at the lights in the distance.
“Thanks again. You’re a godsend. I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t come along.”
“Happy coincidence, remember?” I said, grinning at her.
She paused, chewing her lower lip, unable or unwilling to meet my eyes. “Well,” she said at last, “uh, have a good night.”
“You too.”
I watched as she tramped through the underbrush and exited the forest. I stayed until I was sure she’d made it to safety.
“Shit,” I muttered when she stepped into the light from a streetlamp.
I never asked her name. Sighing, I turned away from the young woman and the town that held so much heartache for me. Without giving it a backward glance, I shifted and sprinted deep into the forest, pushing my body to get as far from Idlewild as I could.
1
JUNIPER
7 YEARS LATER
“June? Can you give me a hand?”
Turning from the stack of clothes I’d been folding, I found my grandmother trying to lift a solid wooden rocking chair up onto a small display platform Grandpa had built a few days before. Her tiny five-foot, one-hundred-ten-pound frame shook with effort.
“Oh my gosh, Gran,” I said, hurrying over. “Stop! You’re gonna throw your back out.”
My grandmother, nearly seventy years old, had the chair halfway up, grimacing with strain.
“It’s…fine. Just need…to get it the last few inches.”
Grabbing the chair’s armrests, I quickly pulled the burden off her. I blinked in surprise at the heft of it as I put it on the display platform. Sighing with relief, I wiped my hands on my jeans and turned to glare at her.
“What were you thinking? That thing weighed like fifty pounds.”
“I know,” she said, grinning at me. “Quality work. Might even be an antique. We should make a good profit off it. It came in with a donation this morning.” She patted the wooden platform.“Your grandfather’s new addition to the store is getting used early.”
I’d worked in my grandparents’ secondhand store since I was a kid. I’d started helping out with the sweeping, dusting, and tagging items, but now I did a lot more, since they were getting up in years. The store held a lot of nostalgia for me, even though it was a bit run-down. All the shelves were either handmade, like the new display riser, or discards my grandfather had repurposed.
“Great,” I said, rolling my eyes. “We make a few extra dollars, but you break a hip and end up in the hospital.”
She waved her hand at me and chuckled. “I’ll be fine.”
Behind us, the tinkle of the bell above the door jingled, letting us know we had customers. I glanced over my shoulder. My heart sank, and a cold pit opened in my stomach. Anders Burnell, the young new alpha of the Idlewild pack, strode in with his friend, Brock Gurney. The two men strolled over to check out a display of retro T-shirts we had in the far corner.
“Customers. And cute ones too,” Gran said, nudging me with her elbow.
“Gran, stop,” I said through gritted teeth.
“He’s the alpha, dear. He’s also your age. Go talk to him, see if he needs help. Maybe you two will hit it off. I’m going to head back and help your grandfather break down cardboard boxes.”
