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Harper gazed up at the turrets, a spark of anticipation fluttering in her chest - the first hint of real joy she'd experienced since that terrible incident in the national park. "And that's where we're going? I'd love to have a room in one of those turrets, it would be absolutely perfect."
Katerina gave her a thumbs up. “I stayed in a turret, before I moved in with Troy. Long story, I’ll fill you in later. The view is stunning. I used to love sitting in a beam of sunlight and sketching.”
Jake pulled around the drive to a small parking lot behind the inn. “We’ll get you checked in, and then I have to get back to work. Katerina and Becca will take care of you, though.”
Feeling her cheeks heat with embarrassment, Harper struggled to reply. “I-I don’t need anyone to take care of me. I’ll be fine, really. And at least no one is going to be looking for a fox-lady here in New York, they’re all too busy combing Northern California for me.”
"That's true," Katerina said, as Jake pulled into a parking space. Her golden eyes sparkled with warmth. "Come on, Harper, let's go get you checked in, and Jake can bring your luggage."
"Oh, thanks," Jake scoffed, but he laughed, getting out and going to the back of the truck. Harper hesitated for a moment before sliding out of the passenger seat, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sweater as she braced herself to go inside and face meeting more new people. Her heart raced a little faster at the prospect of so many strangers, even if they were supposedly safe and welcoming. She smoothed her sweater down one more time, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves.
Trailing behind Katerina, Harper walked down an extended corridor that stretched toward the inn's entrance. The passage widened into an entrance hall across from the main doors. Behind the desk stood the proprietor - a statuesque older Black man with silver-peppered black hair cut short against his scalp and dark eyes that seemed to hold infinite depths. He stood, extending his hand in greeting, and she reached out to clasp it in a handshake.
His rich baritone washed over her like warm honey. "I'm Angus Johnston, my wife and I run the bed and breakfast. We're privileged to welcome you, Harper. What you did was truly brave."
The compliment made her cheeks flame, and she lowered her gaze to the floor. "Looking back, it seems reckless more than anything."
"Nonsense," he said, his voice brusque yet gentle. "You flung yourself into battle with an apex predator to save a tourist, despite the danger - a rare quality these days." His dark eyes held such warmth and approval, Harper had to resist the urge to squirm under his steady gaze.
Through the entryway, Jake appeared hauling her luggage, and chimed in. "You've made us so proud, Harper. Incredibly proud! None of the other stuff counts. The revelation about shifters was inevitable anyway. And here's something to think about, if you haven't already. Sure, people saw you transform -but it happened while you were heroically protecting others, throwing yourself at an aggressive grizzly. We couldn't have asked for a better way for shifters to introduce ourselves to humans. This will help a lot of them accept us."
"From a public relations standpoint, this is pretty much ideal for us," Katerina agreed with a satisfied expression. "Sure, it's rough being in your shoes right now, but keep in mind that no cameras caught your features, and your human form was visible for such a short moment before the shift that there's zero chance anyone could recognize you. You don't have anything to worry about," she emphasized, squeezing Harper's shoulder while fixing her amber eyes on them with sincere conviction. "You're safe here."
Harper couldn’t help feeling gratified, but before she could respond, the thud of boots echoed on the porch. The front door flew open, and a young woman burst into the lobby. Although she was dressed in jeans, a cotton shirt, and boots, she had an exotic look, with thick blue-black hair, long and wild, her eyes a stormy dark blue-grey.
“I’m late! I didn’t mean to be, but the class ran late, and then Morgana decided she didn’t want her hooves picked, and, well, I won, but it took awhile.” That bright gaze fell on Harper, and the woman smiled. “You must be Harper. I’m so glad to meet you. I’m Becca.”
"It's nice to meet you, too, and congratulations on your engagement." Harper noticed how Becca's eyes sparkled with happiness, despite her obvious exhaustion from the day's activities.
Becca blushed prettily, rosy color spreading across her golden skin, and her gaze flew to Jake, a soft smile curving her lips, before looking back at Harper. "Thank you."
Angus cleared his throat. "Harper, do you have a preference for rooms? We've got rooms facing north, south, west, and all have balconies. There are turret rooms on the third floor." His deep voice resonated with the warmth of a gracious host.
"Have you got a turret room available?" she asked hesitantly. Harper couldn't help imagining how nice it would be to curl up in a cozy circular space with a good book, watching the world through those curved windows. The thought of being up high in one of those Victorian towers appealed to both her human and fox natures.
“We surely do,” Angus responded, his fingers tapping on the keyboard before him. The printer spat out a piece of paper, which he laid on the counter. “If we can get your signature on this, and then swipe your card there, and you’re all set.”
She signed and swiped. Angus took the sheet, and passed her a key. An honest-to-gosh old-fashioned key, that looked like it was brass with a curlique on the end.
“You’ll be in the west turret, take a right at the top of the stairs, and that’s yours. Breakfast is from six-thirty until nine in the morning,” he told her. “There are hot and cold beverages as well as snacks, available around the clock in the lounge,” and he pointed through an open doorway opposite the desk. “Your WiFi password is in the room beside the phone, and there’s a coin-operated laundry in the basement.”
“Thank you,” she told him, as Jake started up the stairs with her suitcases.
“Do you want us to come up?” Katerina asked. “Or are you tired?”
Harper was conscious of absolute exhaustion, weariness weighing on her like a heavy blanket. Besides the strain of the last weeks, selling her car, packing up her belongings to be shipped here, and then the long plane flight across the country, she was about at the end of her rope. The ends of her nerves felt frayed, and right now, the prospect of solitude sounded like the most wonderful thing in the world.
"I'm a little tired," she admitted aloud, grateful to Katerina for giving her the out. Her eyelids felt heavy, and her body sagged with fatigue, making the simple act of remaining upright feel like an impossible task. The idea of retreating to a peaceful chamber, wrapped in plush covers and blissful privacy, called to her.
Katerina nodded. "You're coming to Troy and me for dinner, I'll pick you up around six." She grinned, her golden eyes sparkling with mischief. "Whether you want to or not. That'll give you a few hours for a good nap."
"That sounds perfect." Harper meant it, too. The prospect of a long nap, followed by dinner with the friendly shifter sounded like exactly what she needed.
She was startled by Becca pulling her into a close hug, the other woman's warmth and acceptance washing over her. Harper stiffened for a moment before relaxing into the embrace, surprised by how natural it seemed.
"I'm so glad you're here," the other woman said, releasing her and stepping back. "I look forward to getting to know you." Becca's stormy blue-gray eyes radiated sincerity.
"Th-thank you," Harper stammered, unused to such open displays of affection from near-strangers. Her inner fox, Reyna, who had been quiet for the entire journey across the country, now hummed with contentment at the genuine welcome. "I'll see you later, too."
Alone in her room at last, Harper sank onto the bed, her eyes closing a moment in sheer relief at the blessed quiet. Opening her eyes, she drew in a long, sobbing breath, and pulled her legs up under her to sit cross-legged on the fluffy comforter as she looked around her new temporary den. It was a lovely room, octagonal, with windows filling up several of the walls, letting in the bright early summer sunlight.
She lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling with a sigh. She’d been in California since she finished college, had begun a life there, a career. And now, here she was, among strangers, as far from California as one could get and still be on the same continent. She’d always thought she would enjoy a cross-country drive, but the prospect of being constantly afraid of recognition… no matter how unlikely… hadn’t been something she could face. So she’d hired movers to bring her things. They’d be here in a couple of weeks, and would put all her furniture and household goods into storage, until she could find a house or apartment to rent.
At least she knew no one would be looking for her here, and she was surrounded by other shifters, and people who knew about shifters. She’d meet her new employers on Monday, when she started her job at their bank as a Personal Finance Advisor. She allowed herself another deep breath of relief. She’d been afraid, having to start over like she was, that she’d have to begin at the bottom of the rung again, as a teller. But her BA in Business Management had worked in her favor, as had her several years of experience working in banking. The bank in California had given her a glowing reference, as well. She winced a little, as she’d had to lie to her previous employer, making up an ill relative in New York to account for her sudden need to relocate across the country.
But, she was here, and honestly, she was in a pretty good situation, everything considered.
Shifting her weight, she stretched an arm down, searching blindly for her handbag beside the mattress. Her fingers brushed against the leather handles, and she tugged it up next to her, digging through its contents until she located her phone.
Sinking into the mattress, she pulled up the familiar footage she'd replayed countless times, longing for some alternate version of events. Her gaze followed the massive bear as it exploded from the forest's edge, horrifyingly close to the panic-stricken man it chased. She wished she could undo her actions, yet what was done couldn't be undone.
Once she'd realized the bear was a shifter, and a youngster at that, she’d told the idiot kid to make himself visible in and out of view along the edges of the meadow, to keep the attention of the humans, with their cameras and cell phones, on him. That allowed her to slink around and crawl into the meadow to retrieve her clothes and the pack she’d been wearing when she had Changed. Her shirt had been ripped in her frantic haste to free herself from its confines as a fox in her rush to confront the bear. After pulling a backup shirt from her backpack, she'd ducked behind a dense thicket to get dressed. She'd hurried down the trail to her vehicle, managing to slip behind the wheel and speed off while the crowd of onlookers remained glued to their devices on the bridge, hoping to capture another shot of either creature, fox or bear, on camera.
Harper broke into a sweat again, her heart racing, as she pictured again how easily she could have been identified had someone with a camera been any closer to her, or if she had come from a different direction so her face would have been directly to the watchers. Unfortunately, her hair color was distinctive, and the only thing that saved her was that she'd worn it pulled back tightly into a braid down her back for hiking. Still, red, of course, but less distinctive. Unremarkable, unlike the mane of red curls she usually wore, falling down her back in an unruly mass.
Her naturally reserved personality had unexpectedly become a gift. Beyond her relatives and fellow shapeshifters, she maintained only a handful of relationships. Despite her anxiety about being recognized, not a soul outside that circle could view the footage and exclaim with surety, "That's her!"
With a shudder, Harper pushed the memories aside. She'd made it to New York, putting an entire continent between herself and the West Coast. Out here in this sprawling rural community, nobody would be giving a second glance at women with foxy-red hair. At last, she could relax her guard.
A light tapping at her door woke Harper. She blinked at the light filtering in from the balcony, and experienced a moment of disorientation. The clock on the nightstand said it was seven o’clock, but was it seven in the evening, or in the morning? She thrust the covers back, noting she was wearing her favorite nightgown. Padding to the door, she opened it, to find an older middle-aged woman standing outside.
Harper blinked sleepily, taking in the Black woman before her. Tall and stately, with an air of quiet authority, the stranger's dark eyes sparkled with warmth. Her hair, a mix of black and silver, was pulled back in a neat bun. She wore a crisp white apron over a floral dress, giving her the look of a classic innkeeper.
Harper's inner fox, Reyna, perked up, sensing something different about the woman. There was an underlying current of power, barely detectable but unmistakably present.
"Good morning, dear. I'm Renee Johnston, co-owner of the West Side Inn. I hope I didn't wake you too early," the woman said, her voice rich and soothing. “I'm Angus's wife. I didn’t want you to miss breakfast. You missed dinner with your friends last night, so you must be starved.”
“Oh.” Harper scrubbed at her face, still groggy. She didn’t remember falling asleep, but there was a fleeting memory of waking at some point, changing into her nightgown, and tumbling back onto the bed. “I must have slept straight through. I'm sorry," she mumbled running a hand through her tousled red hair. "I must look a mess."
Renee waved off her concern with a gentle smile. "Nonsense. You look like someone who had a good night's sleep, which is exactly what I hope for all our guests. Wash your face, that’ll help you wake up. Then come on down and have breakfast. Most of our guests have breakfasted and gone off to start their day, but Katerina is in the dining room.”
The aroma of freshly baked cinnamon rolls wafted up from downstairs, making Harper's stomach growl. Renee's eyes twinkled with amusement.
"We have a full breakfast spread in the dining room, including some of my special recipes."
Harper's mouth watered at the thought. "That sounds wonderful. I'll be down in a few minutes, if that's alright?"
"Take your time, dear. Breakfast is served until nine." Renee turned to leave, then paused. "Oh, and Harper? Welcome to our little sanctuary. You're safe here."
Harper followed the innkeeper's suggestion, splashing cool water on her face at the sink in the adjoining bathroom. Her skin felt sticky and unclean from yesterday's journey, especially after sleeping in her travel grime. Her stomach was demanding food, but she knew getting cleaned up would improve her mood.
Harper froze halfway to the bathroom, her hand flying to her mouth. "Oh no!" She'd completely forgotten to let her parents know she'd arrived safely. They must be worried sick. Diving for her phone on the nightstand, she fired off a quick text to their family group chat:
?Made it safe to NY, sorry for not texting sooner! Fell asleep right after check-in. Beautiful inn, lovely people. Will call tonight with details. Love you both! ???
Her mother's response came instantly: ?Thank goodness! Was about to call hospitals! ?? Send pictures! Love you baby. ???
Harper winced at her mother's message. She should have known Mom would be fretting. Her father's reply popped up next: ?Glad you're safe, kitten. Looking forward to hearing about everything. ???
The nickname warmed her heart - her father had dubbed her 'kitten' when she was little, a clever play on the term for baby foxes. Even now in her late twenties, whenever she heard "kitten" in her father's gentle rumble, she imagined herself as a tiny fox kit, curled up safe and warm in his strong arms.
Her stomach growled again, reminding her of breakfast waiting downstairs. The smell of cinnamon rolls and coffee wafting up from below was torture. Grabbing her toiletries bag, she hurried into the bathroom.
The bathroom was surprisingly spacious for an old Victorian, with gleaming white subway tiles and a deep clawfoot tub with a shower attachment. Under different circumstances, she'd love a long soak in that tub. But right now, speed was essential. Plus, she could wash out that hideous brown rinse from her hair. Harper stepped into the shower, and cranked on the water, blessedly hot.
After a rushed shower and towel-drying her hair, she made her way toward the first floor, having changed into crisp linen slacks, a mint-colored top, and cozy plush house shoes. She'd decided to leave her handbag behind, bringing just her cell phone and the room's key, which she'd slipped into her pocket.
Harper followed the scent of cinnamon and coffee through an arched doorway into a spacious dining room. Sunlight streamed through tall windows, casting warm patches across the polished hardwood floors. Round tables draped in cream-colored linens dotted the room, each with four chairs upholstered in deep burgundy fabric.
At the far end, steam rose from silver chafing dishes arranged on a long buffet table. The aroma of eggs, bacon, and sausage mingled with fresh-baked pastries. And, of course, coffee. She received a cheerful greeting from Katerina, who appeared to be nursing a cup of coffee with heavy-lidded eyes.
Movement in the adjoining lounge caught her eye. The room opened to the dining area through another wide archway off the lobby, and was dominated by a massive stone fireplace flanked by couches, loveseats, and upholstered chairs. Harper blinked at the unexpected sight of an enormous white dog sprawled across the hearth rug. His shaggy fur reminded her of a polar bear. A small tabby cat lay curled atop the dog's side, rising and falling with each of his deep breaths.
"Oh, my!" Harper stared at the incongruous duo, her heart melting at the sight of the unlikely companions. A smile tugged at her lips as she watched the tiny cat shift position, stretching its paws before settling deeper into the massive dog's thick fur.
Katerina's sleepy giggle drew her attention. "That's Tony and Maria. He's a Great Pyrenees. They're practically inseparable. In fact," she mused, "I don't think I've ever seen the one without the other."
Harper blinked, processing the names. A slow smile spread across her face as she made the connection. "Tony and Maria? Like West Side Story?"
"Exactly." Katerina's golden eyes sparkled with amusement. "Angus and Renee have an appreciation for musicals. Though these two get along much better than their namesakes - no star-crossed tragedy here, thank goodness."
As if aware they were being discussed, the tabby cat opened one eye, gave them a imperious look, then snuggled deeper into Tony's fur. The big dog didn't even twitch an ear, continuing his peaceful slumber.
At the opposite end stood extended buffet tables covered in crisp white tablecloths, featuring a lineup of warming trays. As she surveyed the spread, she discovered fluffy scrambled eggs - both regular and eggs scrambled with ham-and-cheese - alongside strips of bacon, thick-cut ham, plump sausage links, golden pancakes, and crispy potato hash. A do-it-yourself waffle station caught her eye, complemented by bowls of seasonal fruits and an array of syrups. Positioned diagonally from the main buffet was a display of freshly baked goods - tender biscuits, assorted muffins, and flaky pastries. Adjacent to that, another surface held various beverage dispensers filled with steaming coffee, hot water for tea drinkers, rich homemade cocoa, and crystal pitchers brimming with assorted fruit juices.
"Wow, they go all out," she remarked softly, her eyes widening at the impressive display.
Katerina looked up from her coffee long enough to nod her head in agreement. "The morning meals were always my favorite part of being a guest here. Everything's delicious, but Renee's baking skills are absolutely incredible! You'd be doing yourself a disservice if you passed up her blueberry muffins. Trust me on this."
"I'll definitely try one," Harper said, selecting a muffin before heading back to the spread of food. She grabbed a heated plate and filled it with fluffy scrambled eggs and crispy bacon strips, then made her way to the drink station to pour herself a glass of orange juice.
Harper dug into her breakfast, then paused to look around. “Where’s Becca? I was hoping to meet her again. Now that I'm, you know, not asleep on my feet.”
“She's outside working in the garden,” Katerina assured her. “She grows vegetables for the inn, and sells the rest at farmers markets. There are berries, too, that she uses to make jam.”
Harper made a face, remembering the trail of deceased houseplants littering her past. "I have the proverbial black thumb. The only plant I've ever been able to keep alive is an air fern." Even her attempts at growing herbs had ended in disaster - the basil wilted, the mint shriveled, and the supposedly unkillable spider plant had given up the ghost within a week.
Katerina's lips twitched, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "That's because they're already dead."
"Well, yes," Harper admitted, ducking her head as warmth crept into her cheeks. "But it looks alive, so that counts, right?"
"I've never met anyone named Harper before," Katerina said, her golden eyes sparkling with interest. "How did your parents come to pick it, do you know?"
Harper had to laugh at that. She put down the slice of bacon she'd been about to bite into, the savory aroma making her stomach rumble. "My mom was big into Anne McCaffrey, and her Dragonriders of Pern series." A fond smile tugged at her lips as she remembered her mother's extensive collection of dog-eared paperbacks lining the shelves of her childhood home. "She said if she couldn't have a fire lizard of her own, at least she could name her daughter after the musical guild in the books."
"Oh, right! I love those stories!" Katerina enthused, her golden eyes lighting up with recognition.
Harper grinned at her. "Believe me, I know them all by heart. They inspired me to learn to play the harp. I have both a lyre harp, and small Celtic lap harp. They're packed with the rest of my things being delivered by the moving company." The thought of her beloved instruments wrapped in layers of protective padding made her a touch anxious - she'd never trusted anyone else to transport them before.
"We've got to introduce you to Nathan," Katerina said. "He's human, but knows about us. He is a musician, and teaches at a local music conservatory. We've been encouraging some of our youngsters who live in the area to take classes there."
"I'd definitely like to meet him, and to see the conservatory," Harper said, and even her fox, Reyna, who'd been depressed these last days, perking up with interest. The thought of connecting with another musician made her heart lift a little. Music had always been her refuge, her safe space when the world seemed overwhelming. "What does he play, do you know?"
"Stringed instruments, I think," Katerina said, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Cello, I know for sure, I don't know what else."
"My grandmother, Maroulla, will be coming down in a few days," she continued, her fingers drumming an excited rhythm on the arm of her chair. "We're going to have a meeting with the most visible people here in the community, those most likely to be coming out, or to hold key positions as we move forward. A war council," Katerina added, her golden eyes bright with anticipation, a hint of her feline nature showing through.
The term 'war council' sent a shiver down Harper's spine, and Reyna curled tighter inside her mind, seeking comfort. The phrase carried too many echoes of conflict and danger. But, she supposed, that's pretty close to what was needed. The shifter community was going to need strategy and strength to handle what lay ahead, now the whole world knew about them.
Katerina's expression shifted from excitement to concern. "I know this is all overwhelming, Harper. Moving across the country, starting fresh somewhere new - that's tough enough without adding supernatural politics to the mix."
"It's a lot," Harper admitted, picking at the remains of her muffin. The earlier warmth of the conversation had dimmed slightly at the mention of meetings and councils. Her shoulders tensed as memories of the past weeks crowded in. "I keep thinking about how different everything was just a month ago. I had my routine, my little apartment, my regular clients at the bank..." She trailed off, throat tight.
Katerina reached across the table and squeezed her hand. "Change isn't always bad, you know. Sometimes it leads us exactly where we need to be."
The gesture and words touched something deep inside Harper. Reyna, her inner fox, stirred with cautious optimism. Maybe Katerina was right. This peaceful inn, with its magical innkeepers and unlikely animal friendships, already felt more like home than her apartment in California ever had.
A comfortable silence fell between them as Harper finished her breakfast. The morning sunlight streamed through the tall windows, painting golden patterns across the hardwood floors.
"Thank you," Harper said finally, meeting Katerina's gaze. "For everything. The welcome, the offer of friendship, just... everything."
"That's what community is for," Katerina replied with a warm smile. She glanced at her phone and sighed. "I need to get going - I've got three pet portraits to finish today, and Troy asked me to help exercise some of the horses this afternoon, as Becca's got this afternoon off." She stood, gathering her empty coffee cup. "Will you be okay on your own? I can stay longer if you need company."
Harper shook her head, touched by the offer but not wanting to impose. "I'll be fine. I should probably unpack and get settled in, since I slept all yesterday evening and through the night."
"Alright then." Katerina's golden eyes sparkled with warmth. "I'll text you later about dinner plans. Maybe we can get together with Becca, make it a proper girls' night?"
"That sounds nice." Harper meant it too. Despite her natural shyness, she found herself looking forward to spending more time with these women who'd welcomed her so readily. She felt a surge of gratitude. She might have lost her carefully constructed life in California, but perhaps she'd found something better - a place where she could truly belong.
Katerina headed for the door, and with a final wave, she disappeared through the archway.
Harper watched her go, feeling a mixture of gratitude and uncertainty. She'd known Katerina less than a day, yet somehow the cat shifter had already started feeling like a friend. It was an unfamiliar sensation - Harper usually took much longer to warm up to people. But there was something about this place, about these people, that felt different. Safe.