Page 9

I rubbed my hands down my arms. My gaze kept sliding to the copse of trees beyond the fence surrounding my place. The last few nights, the shades had been quiet, but the animals, well, that was another story.

Between the goats bleating and the dogs yapping, I was hardly getting any sleep. At least, I thought it was dogs. But did domestic dogs howl?

Just last night, I’d crept to the window and thought I saw the same big black dog sitting outside my fence that I’d seen almost every day this week.

His hackles had been raised as a shade appeared at the edge of the forest, and he snarled at the figure who then blinked out of existence.

I was beginning to be grateful for my furry guardian and when I smiled, he turned his big head, and those bright green eyes were just staring at me.

It was like he stood watch over me. And I wished his unwavering presence was enough to chase the monsters away permanently. But they would be back. The shades never stayed gone for long.

There was something profoundly comforting about having a large, silent protector in a world that often felt chaotic to me.

When I smiled at him, he turned his big head, and those bright green eyes met mine, piercing and full of intelligence.

It felt as if he could see right into my soul, understanding the unspoken thoughts swirling in my mind.

The animal must be some kind of designer breed to have eyes like that.

He was a gorgeous creature. Big and muscular with fur black as pitch. So dark it appeared almost otherworldly. A vivid contrast against his bright and steady gaze.

Like Mother Nature had tested her mettle by blending pure elegance with raw power in one magnificent creature. Oh, he was a monster, I was sure.

No other animals dared go near him as he kept watch. Like some dark, furry sentinel. I grinned just thinking about him.

It was silly, feeling connected to an animal. But I couldn’t help it. What if he was there for me? Wouldn’t that be amazing?

I was being fanciful, but who could blame me? Every girl wanted a savior, right? A protector.

Well, what could be better than a black monster dog with glowing green eyes?

My guardian beast radiated strength, grace, and mystery.

I didn’t think such a creature would exist in a world like this. So full of sadness and terror. But he did exist. And that alone was a comfort to me.

God, I was curious about that animal.

There was something special about him, and I did not mean that in the way I was special, er , cursed. He was not a shade or a spirit. I was sure of that.

He was a wild mystery. Too big to be a regular dog. Enormous, really. I thought it might be a wolf, but Google cured me of that.

Apparently, there were no wild wolves in the State of New Jersey. So, even if this was a hybrid, he was likely someone’s pet. Something tamed and domesticated, which kind of made me sad.

An animal like that was surely born to be wild and free. I sighed and wondered if I should alert the authorities. Maybe someone was missing him if he was sneaking into these woods every night.

I shook my head against such a notion. If someone owned that animal and let him go, that was their problem. He sure looked healthy, and he didn’t bother me. He didn’t bother the goats, either.

I made a mental note to leave some ground chuck at the back fence for him if he came back. Just in case he was hungry.

Jed had come by every morning to say hello. Once he brought me a tin filled with fresh goat milk, and he even showed me how to make cheese.

It was freezing inside my house. But I couldn’t afford to use any of the quarter tank left of oil sitting in the tank outside the doublewide.

I was trying to keep costs down after using all the money I’d made by lending my field to the Motley Crewd Ranch. I had finally caught up with Pop’s bills and bought what I needed for the Holiday Film Festival I was planning.

Hopefully, that would put some money back in my pocket and I’d be able to fill the tank enough for winter.

I just needed the weather to hold up.

Please, oh please, oh please.

Fingers crossed, it would, and the festival could go forward as planned. Three nights with two showings of holiday triple features. Each movie festival would start at five PM, and end at two AM.

George, the teenager I hired to work for me through the early fall, would be back from college for the holidays and already agreed to help along with his two younger brothers, Adam and Steven. Between the four of us, we would direct traffic, scan virtual tickets, and run the snack stand.

I’d been so busy this week between planning and flirting with a certain sexy man who’d been blowing up my phone, I hadn’t had a single vision or visitor.

And it was exhilarating.

I couldn’t recall a single time in my adult life that hadn’t been plagued by the inconvenient timing of persistent shades or intrusive manifestations. Each encounter always felt like a heavy weight on my shoulders.

The burden of carrying this curse around had been mine to bear ever since I could remember. But ever since that day when Emmet had picked Patrick up by the back of the neck and got rid of him, it had been blissfully quiet.

I chuckled softly to myself, recalling the way Emmet had rushed in, all confidence and raw strength. He handled the situation effortlessly and there was something incredibly liberating about all that.

Something sexy as hell, too.

I bit my lip, watching the window for Emmet’s truck. We’d been texting all week. He was surprisingly good at playful banter, full of teasing innuendo.

The promise of a new message kept me on the edge of my seat during the day, and had me staying awake late each night, grinning like a schoolgirl.

I didn’t usually do this sort of thing. But every time he asked me out, he was chipping away at my armor. I didn’t want to say no. My only hope was that this peace I’d found would last through dinner, and if I was lucky, maybe dessert, too.

The anticipation was palpable. Ever since I met him it was like a spark had ignited. Something long since smothered, a secret wish I’d buried deep inside and hadn’t allowed myself to feel in a long time.

It was a wish for someone who understood me. Someone who wouldn’t run.

I knew it was foolish, but I guess dreams never really died. I didn’t want to be alone. And some small part of me hoped that maybe with Emmet, I wouldn’t have to be.

If only I wasn’t so messed up.

Self-doubt plagued me as I waited for my date to arrive. I couldn't believe I was going through with this.

Hadn’t Patrick taught me anything?

Shit.

Was this all a big mistake?

Emmet flirted like it was second nature. He was so handsome and built. What was a man like that even doing looking at a woman like me?

Stop that. You’re plenty pretty , Jezebel .

I scolded myself. And while I’d learned to love my appearance, it was still a sore subject, me being pleasantly plump and all. Seeing Patrick the other day had brought all that up again.

But Emmet was there. He’d heard it. And he didn’t snicker and agree with Patrick’s assessment of my body.

In fact, it angered him enough that he dragged that jerk to his car and sent him packing. Heat filled me as I recalled that rather boorish display.

Who knew watching someone deal with my ex would be so freaking hot?

I bit my bottom lip and tried to calm my nerves. If I was going to cancel, I was running out of time. I checked my cell phone.

Shit.

He was supposed to be here in five minutes. But men were always late when picking up women for dates, weren’t they?

Maybe I could still send him a text?

The sound of a truck pulling up destroyed that notion. I took a deep breath, steadying myself before I moved towards the door.

Buckle up, Jezebel. You are going on this date.