Page 31

Jill woke up suddenly, nudging Nathan's ankle with her nose. He bent down to scratch behind her ears. "I bet you want some treats, don't you?"

Harper tucked her feet under her as she watched him feed Jill pieces of apple. The little jackalope's nose twitched with each bite, her tiny antlers bobbing as she chewed. Warmth spread through Harper's chest at how gentle Nathan was with his unusual charge.

A flicker of movement caught her eye. Harper's gaze snapped to the patio door, her fox's senses suddenly alert. There, illuminated by the outdoor light, stood another rabbit - but this one was fully grown, with a magnificent rack of antlers sprouting from its head, just like Jill's smaller ones.

Harper's breath caught in her throat. She reached over and gripped Nathan's arm, her fingers digging into his sleeve.

"Nathan," she whispered, not wanting to startle either jackalope. "Look at the patio door. Slowly."

Nathan turned his head, following her gaze. His hand froze mid-air, still holding a piece of strawberry. Jill, sensing the change in atmosphere, stopped munching and lifted her head, her nose working overtime as she caught the scent of the newcomer.

The adult jackalope stood perfectly still, its dark eyes fixed on them through the glass. Its fur was a rich brown, darker than Jill's, but with the same distinctive markings. The antlers branched impressively, far more developed than Jill's baby spikes.

"Oh my god," Nathan breathed. "Is that..."

"Another jackalope," Harper confirmed, her voice barely above a whisper. "A full-grown one."

Jill's ears swiveled forward, and she took a tentative hop toward the patio door. The adult jackalope's nose twitched, its gaze now fixed on the baby.

"It's her mom," Nathan breathed. "At least, I guess."

Harper's heart ached as she watched Nathan's face, seeing the mix of joy and pain in his expression. "What are you going to do?" she asked softly, though she already knew the answer.

Nathan swallowed hard. "I have to let her go." His voice cracked on the last word. "She needs her mother."

Reyna stirred in Harper's mind. Good den-mother came back for kit.

Harper reached for Nathan's hand, squeezing it gently as he rose to his feet. He moved toward the patio door with careful, measured steps, as if each one cost him something precious. The adult jackalope took two hops backward but didn't flee, her dark eyes fixed steadily on Nathan's approaching form.

Jill remained where she was, her tiny nose working overtime as she processed the scent of her mother through the glass. Her ears swiveled back and forth between Nathan and the adult jackalope.

Nathan's hand trembled slightly as he reached for the door handle. The soft click of the latch seemed impossibly loud in the quiet room. He slid the door open, then backed away slowly until he reached the couch.

Harper shifted closer as Nathan sank down beside her, his shoulders tense. She could feel him trembling slightly as they watched the two jackalopes regard each other through the open doorway. The night air carried the scent of damp grass and early autumn leaves into the room.

Harper's heart ached as she watched the mother jackalope hop cautiously through the doorway. The adult's movements were graceful, deliberate, as she approached her baby. Jill remained perfectly still as her mother's nose twitched, taking in her scent.

Nathan's fingers tightened around Harper's hand until it almost hurt, but she didn't pull away. She understood his pain all too well - the bittersweet joy of seeing a loved one reunited with family, even knowing it meant letting go.

The mother jackalope began washing Jill's face and ears with swift, gentle strokes of her tongue. The tender gesture brought tears to Harper's eyes. Inside her mind, Reyna whimpered softly in sympathy.

Harper blinked back tears as Jill suddenly turned away from her mother and hopped onto the sofa beside Nathan. His breath caught on a sob as he gently lifted the baby jackalope into his arms, cradling her close one last time.

"You came to say goodbye, didn't you, sweet girl?" Nathan's voice cracked as he pressed a kiss to the top of Jill's head, between her tiny antlers. "I want you to remember that I love you, okay? And you can always, always come back to me if you need me."

Harper could hear the heartbreak in every word, see it in the way his shoulders shook as he held Jill. She wanted to comfort him but knew there was nothing she could say to ease this particular pain. Some goodbyes simply had to hurt.

Harper's heart ached as she watched Nathan gently lower Jill to the floor. His hands lingered for a moment on her soft fur before he pulled away, letting her go. The baby jackalope hopped toward her mother, their noses touching. Nathan's hand groped for Harper's, and he clutched her fingers tightly as they watched.

Jill turned away first, bouncing toward the dining room with the same enthusiastic energy Harper had come to associate with treat time. The mother jackalope followed, her movements more measured and graceful, antlers held high as she surveyed her baby's temporary home.

They paused at the corner where Nathan had placed Jill's bedding - a plush dog bed in muted earth tones that he'd carefully selected to match her coloring. Harper watched as Jill nosed at the fabric, showing her mother where she'd slept these past months.

A moment later, Jill led the way to her food station, where Nathan always kept fresh water and alfalfa pellets available. Harper exchanged a glance with Nathan as the distinct sound of crunching pellets reached their ears - the mother jackalope sampling her daughter's food supply.

Nathan's grip on her hand loosened slightly as they watched the two jackalopes hop toward the kitchen. The mother's antlers cast intricate shadows on the wall from the soft lighting, while Jill's smaller form bounced ahead eagerly.

Harper leaned closer to Nathan, her voice barely above a whisper. "Is Jill… giving her mother a tour?"

Showing den, Reyna observed in Harper's mind. Kit loves home.

Harper's chest tightened at her fox's insight. She'd never considered how much Jill might have come to view Nathan's house as her own territory during these past months. The little jackalope had certainly made herself at home here.

The kitchen visit was brief - just long enough for Jill to show her mother the spot where Nathan always prepared her fresh vegetables and fruits. Then they were off again, their paws making soft thumping sounds against the hardwood floor as they headed down the hallway.

Harper held her breath as the pair disappeared into the bathroom - the one where Nathan had set up Jill's litter box. She could hear the rustle of movement from within, picturing Jill proudly showing her mother all the accommodations Nathan had provided.

The jackalopes exited the bathroom, and hopped out of sight down the hallway. She glanced at Nathan, still holding his hand as they sat frozen on the couch, neither wanting to disturb this strange visitation.

"The music room?" she whispered, remembering how Jill often curled up in there while Nathan practiced piano.

Nathan shrugged beside her, his voice carrying the same stunned quality she felt. "I guess."

Harper leaned against Nathan's shoulder as they waited in silence on the sofa. Her heart ached for him, knowing how much letting Jill go would hurt. The sound of soft thumps drew her attention back to the hallway.

Jill bounded into view, her tiny antlers bobbing with each hop. Her mother followed at a more dignified pace, her larger form moving with fluid grace. Harper watched as Jill approached Nathan, rising up on her hind legs in a familiar begging pose that never failed to make Harper smile.

Nathan chuckled softly, reaching for the bowl of treats. His fingers selected a chunk of pink watermelon - one of Jill's favorites. Harper had noticed how the little jackalope's nose would twitch with extra enthusiasm whenever Nathan offered her the sweet fruit.

To Harper's amazement, the mother jackalope moved closer as well. Her dark eyes fixed on Nathan, then shifted to the bowl of treats in his lap. The adult's nose twitched, testing the air much like her daughter had done countless times before.

Both want treats, Reyna observed in Harper's mind, her mental voice carrying a note of amusement. Good den-father shares.

Harper held her breath, hardly daring to move as she watched the scene unfold. She'd never imagined they'd see another adult jackalope, let alone have one approach them so boldly for treats.

Harper watched, barely breathing, as Nathan's hand moved with careful deliberation toward the adult jackalope. The slice of apple balanced between his fingers, trembling slightly. The mother's whiskers twitched as she assessed the offering, her dark eyes fixed on Nathan's hand.

With surprising delicacy, the adult jackalope plucked the apple slice from Nathan's fingers. She dropped to all fours, her magnificent antlers tilting as she began to nibble the fruit. The careful way she took the treat reminded Harper of Jill's own gentle manners.

Harper's gaze met Nathan's, seeing her own bewilderment mirrored in his expression. This wasn't normal behavior for a wild creature - even one as magical as a jackalope. Yet here was this adult, clearly Jill's mother, accepting treats from Nathan's hand as if she'd done it a hundred times before.

Mate saved kit, Reyna observed in Harper's mind. Mother knows.

Harper squeezed Nathan's hand, both of them watching in stunned silence as the mother jackalope finished her apple slice. Neither of them had expected this level of trust from a wild magical creature, especially one they'd assumed would simply collect Jill and disappear into the night.

Harper watched in amazement as the mother jackalope finished her treat, then made her way to Jill's plush bed in the corner. The adult's movements were deliberate and graceful, her impressive antlers held high as she settled onto the cushion. The bed, which had always seemed perfectly sized for Jill, somehow accommodated the larger jackalope with room to spare.

Jill bounded after her mother, her tiny form vibrating with excitement. The baby jackalope tucked herself against her mother's side, snuggling into the adult's soft brown fur. Harper's heart melted as the mother began washing Jill's ears with swift, gentle strokes of her tongue. The tender scene reminded her of countless nature documentaries, yet this was far more magical.

Good den, Reyna commented softly in Harper's mind. Safe.

Harper turned to Nathan, unable to contain her smile at the unexpected turn of events. "Well," she whispered, careful not to disturb the settling jackalopes, "it looks like you have a pair of them now."

A quiet laugh escaped her as she watched the two magical creatures drift off to sleep, Jill's tiny form rising and falling with her mother's steady breathing. What had started as a bittersweet goodbye had transformed into something entirely different - and wonderfully unexpected.

"Whoa, watching them sleep made me sleepy, too." Harper said, stifling a yawn. "I guess I should head home."

"Let me walk you to your car." Nathan rose, still holding her hand.

The night air was heavy with the summer's humidity as they walked to Harper's Mustang. The stars twinkled overhead, and crickets chirped in the grass.

"Thank you for being here tonight," Nathan said, pulling Harper into a gentle embrace. His warmth enveloped her, and she breathed in his familiar scent of cedar and mint. "Having you with me made everything easier."

Harper tilted her face up to his, her heart fluttering at the tenderness in his brown eyes. "I wouldn't have missed it."

Their lips met in a sweet, lingering kiss, sending sparks of warmth through Harper's entire body. His fingers traced delicate patterns on her lower back, each gentle touch igniting new sensations under her skin, while her hands found their way to his broad shoulders, steadying herself against the swooping sensation in her stomach.

When they finally pulled apart, Harper's cheeks were flushed pink in the moonlight, and her pulse raced beneath her skin. The crickets seemed to sing louder in the darkness around them, their chorus mingling with the rapid beating of her heart.

"Good night," she whispered.

"Drive safe. Text me when you get home?"

Harper nodded, sliding into the driver's seat. Her fingers trembled slightly as she gripped the steering wheel, the ghost of Nathan's kiss still tingling on her lips. Through her rearview mirror, she caught one last glimpse of him standing in the soft glow of his porch light, watching over her departure. Nathan waited until her taillights disappeared around the corner before heading back inside to Jill and her mother. The warmth in her chest lingered as she drove into the quiet night, already looking forward to seeing him again.