Page 5

She felt him before she saw him. Comforting, safe. Like the safety of home and hearth and a snug den. Her fox stirred, raising her nose as if testing the air.

Magic , Reyna told her.

Harper frowned. They said Nathan's not a shifter, she responded.

Not shifter , her fox agreed. But there is magic.

Then the door opened wide, and she got her first glimpse of Nathan. The instant attraction, startling in its intensity, struck her almost like a blow. She dropped her gaze to the floor, unable to look at him, feeling exposed, heated color blooming on her cheeks.

"Hi, Nathan," Becca greeted him. "This is Harper."

Nathan held out his hand. "I'm glad to meet you."

Harper forced herself to take his hand, aware that her fingers were trembling. His clasp was strong, his fingers long and slender. Musician's hands. But they possessed a surprising firmness as they enveloped her hand in a warm embrace. She glanced up fleetingly, to see his smile was just as warm, and again she got that sense of welcome, of safety.

Nathan stepped back, holding the door for them. "Come on in," he invited. As he turned to gesture inside, she was able to sneak a closer look at him.

He wasn't exactly handsome in the conventional sense, but there was an undeniable appeal to his appearance. For those drawn to the lean, quietly contemplative musician type, he was decidedly good-looking. His sandy brown hair complemented a closely trimmed beard that framed his jawline and chin. The beard was more than mere stubble, yet not quite full, striking a perfect balance that added a touch of maturity and ruggedness to his sensitive features. She could easily see him being equally at home strumming a guitar in a cozy café, or composing thoughtful lyrics in a quiet studio.

Her fox, Reyna, pricked up her ears. Mate , she said firmly. It was all Harper could do not to stumble as she stepped forward, surprised by her fox's declaration.

Shifters don't have fated mates, she told Reyna. That's only in fiction.

No fate. Mate.

Okay, this was more than she could deal with. She shut Reyna out as she followed Nathan and Becca into the living room, although aware of her fox giving Nathan yearning looks. As she and Becca sat down, Nathan asked, "Would you ladies like something to drink? Coffee, tea, bottled water?"

"Just water for me," Becca said, and Harper was quick to agree, still unable to meet Nathan's gaze. She was aware of him, though, moving about in the kitchen, hearing the refrigerator open and close. She was afraid to lift her gaze to his as he returned, afraid he would see the deep yearning.

Get ahold of yourself , she said to herself in a stern voice, doing her best to rein in her out-of-control emotions. She managed a smile, taking the bottle he offered her with a swift upward glance. "Thank you."

She took a deep breath, settling herself as she counted in five, then out five on the exhale. She could do this.

Her fox nudged her. Mate.

Not helping!

Nathan settled himself in an armchair at right angles to the sofa where Becca and Harper sat. His admiring gaze was on her, his brown eyes alight with interest. They were a light brown, though not chocolate. More, Harper thought, the color of honey, or caramel.

"I've seen that rescue at Yosemite," he said with clear approval, and a little awe. "That was amazing. Courageous."

Harper winced a little. "In retrospect it feels like the stupidest thing I've ever done," she admitted.

"You didn't know he was a shifter," Becca defended. "Maroulla told us about it."

"If it had been an actual bear, those people would have been in real trouble," Nathan seconded.

"Oh, I do know that," Harper said. It was easier now to talk, the magnetic attraction she was feeling more under control. "That could have been so, so bad. I didn't even think, when I saw that man with the bear behind him. I just let Reyna... my fox... take over."

Nathan looked interested. "Reyna? She has a separate name, like Katerina's cat is called Cat?"

"Yes." She couldn't hold his gaze any longer, and her eyes dropped to the bottle of water she held. Words dried on her tongue, and she felt the color creep into her cheeks once more.

"Not all animals are vocal," Becca came to her rescue, and Harper aimed a grateful glance at her. "Jake told me that some communicate with us in words, some in mental images and feelings. And even those that communicate in words, some are quite fluent, while others are more... umm..."

"Monosyllabic," Harper said, and Becca nodded.

"Right, that. It just depends."

"Which one is yours, Harper?" Nathan asked, then held up his hand, his gaze flying to Becca. "Wait. Is that okay for me to ask? It's not considered rude, is it?"

"Not at all," Becca laughed, and she and Harper exchanged grins.

"Ask anything you want," Harper told him, calling up a shy smile. "I guess you are new to knowing about us?"

Next to her, Becca grinned, and she and Nathan exchanged glances. His eyes were twinkling with something very like mischief as he looked at Harper.

"Come on. I have something to show you."

He and Becca stood up, and Harper rose as well, the surge of curiosity making Reyna peek her head out of the dark corner of her mind where she liked to lurk.

Surprise?

I guess so, Harper answered, her eyes on Becca , who looked positively gleeful. Something is definitely up.

Ahead of them, Nathan pushed open the back door, and she followed Becca outside into the back yard. Harper paused just outside the door, staring in surprise. Fully half the yard was taken up by a pen made of very solid-looking wood posts and chicken wire. Inside, against the back fence, was a large wooden structure with a ramp leading to a doorway large enough for a big dog. Reyna perked her ears up, sounding definitely gleeful. Chickens? She couldn't blame her fox, it did look exactly like a chicken coop, albeit an extremely upscale model. But, still, in the middle of the suburbs?

Nathan went to the gate, lifting the latch and holding it for them to come through. Becca was close on Harper's heels, and leaned in to whisper, "You're going to just die."

"Jill," Nathan called softly. "Come on out, there's someone who wants to meet you."

The shadows inside the doorway of the hutch seemed to move, then slowly a small bunny's nose emerged, followed by the cute face and ears and....

"Oh, my God!" Harper breathed. She swayed, and felt Becca 's arm come about her waist, steadying her. "Is that... is that...?" She couldn't even say it. Surely she must be seeing things. Hallucinating, maybe?

"A jackalope," Becca confirmed.

The little creature gave a little hop, landing halfway down the ramp, fully visible now. Reyna stirred again. Kit , she declared, sending Harper images of curling around the little creature, holding it between her paws and grooming the long furry ears. Ours . She sounded very satisfied and smug. Now we have mate and kit.

Oh, good grief. Shush , she told her fox. We only just met him.

Reyna lifted a lip at her, and went back to mentally grooming the little jackalope.

Harper lowered herself to sit cross-legged in the grass. The little creature came up to her, and Harper smiled, running her fingers through the soft, thick fur. "I have to object to the jackrabbit part of jackalope. Aren't jackrabbits kind of... I don't know. Wiry, and with like, long legs? A different kind of build, anyway. Not, of course, that I'm an expert," she added.

"No, you're right," Nathan said, coming to sit beside her, reaching out to stroke Jill's long, furry ears. I looked her up on Google, and I think she's an American Sable."

"I looked her up, too," Becca put in, still standing by the entrance to the pen, leaning casually against the door frame. "Did you know a jackrabbit isn't actually a rabbit? They're hares."

"I never knew that!" Harper exclaimed, but Nathan was nodding.

"Yes, I found that out, too. The website said the 'jack' part came from their ears, long and like a mule, and a male mule is called a jack. I guess jackhare didn't have the pizzazz as jackrabbit."

Harper grinned.

"Oops." Nathan looked up as drops of rain began to splash on their face. "April showers!"

Becca giggled. "It's June."

Nathan just grinned and rose to his feet, leaning down to offer Harper his hand. She placed her hand in his, startling a little as a little jolt, like an electrical current, ran up her arm. She rose to her feet, trying to hold black her blush.

Mate , Reyna whispered.

Oh, shut up, she snapped, following Nathan back to the house, Becca bringing up the rear. Looking back, she realized that Jill was following them, and after they went into the house, Nathan kept the back door open until the little creature had hopped inside after them.

The storm chose that moment to unleash in earnest. Thunder cracked overhead as rain poured down in sheets, and Nathan hurried to shut the door. The storm had transformed the afternoon into twilight, making the cozy house even more inviting.

"She comes inside?" Harper asked, surprised.

"Yes, she's even housebroken," Nathan assured them. "I've got a litter pan set up for her in the hall bathroom."

That got her attention! "You have a studio?"

"There's a kind of family room, or den, off the living room that I converted into a music room," Nathan explained. "In fact, that's why I bought this house. Want to see?"

"I would love to!"

A phone chimed, and Becca pulled hers from her pocket. Her expression shifted to concern as she read the message.

"Everything okay?" Harper asked, trying not to feel disappointed at the interruption.

"The power's out at Troy's barn. The fridge is down." Becca tapped out a quick response. "I've got milk and butter from this morning that needs to go to the pack house before it spoils." She looked up apologetically. "I'm so sorry, but I should really take care of this."

"No, of course, you should go." Harper meant it, even as Reyna whined softly in disappointment.

"You're welcome to stay, Harper," Nathan offered, his warm honey-brown eyes meeting hers. "I'd love to show you the music room, maybe hear you play?"

Harper's heart skipped. Reyna perked up immediately, radiating approval. Stay with mate.

"I'd like that," Harper said, proud of how steady her voice remained despite the flutter in her chest. She turned to Becca. "Will you be okay getting there in this storm?"

"Jake's already on his way to pick me up." Becca gathered her purse. "You'll be able to find your way back to the bed and breakfast okay?"

Harper lifted an eyebrow at her. "Uber, remember?"

"Oh! Right!" Becca giggled. "You don't mind?"

"Silly of course not!"

Through the window, she saw headlights pierce the rain-dark afternoon as Jake's truck pulled up. Nathan returned, his presence filling the room with that same sense of comfort and safety she'd felt earlier. Nathan nodded toward the kitchen. "Do you want something else to drink? Coffee, maybe?"

"Always," Harper assured him, and followed him into the kitchen. A complex coffeemaker sat on the counter, loaded with electronic buttons and a display, and a place for a K cup. However, a half-full pot of coffee sat on the burner, and Nathan poured two cups out.

"Do you take anything in it? I've got half-and-half, if you like."

Harper snickered to herself. Men . "Half-and-half is fine," she said aloud. "And a little sugar, just enough to take the bite off."

"You got it," he said, moving to the refrigerator.

A few minutes later, coffee cups in hand, he led her down the hallway

Harper followed Nathan down the hallway, noting the warm, honey-colored hardwood floors beneath her feet. Family photos lined one wall - candid shots of two musicians, both of whom shared Nathan's sandy hair and warm brown eyes. The other wall displayed framed sheet music, some yellowed with age, others pristine and new.

Soft natural light filtered through a small window at the end of the hall, illuminating what had to be an heirloom grandfather clock. Harper's breath caught at the sight. The clock stood regally against the wall, its dark mahogany case gleaming with the patina only age and careful polishing could achieve. Delicate brass filigree adorned the face, framing Roman numerals that had been etched with exquisite precision.

"Oh my goodness," Harper breathed, stepping closer to admire the craftsmanship. "This is absolutely gorgeous." She leaned in to study the intricate pendulum swinging behind the glass door, its steady rhythm almost hypnotic. The brass bob caught the light, sending tiny reflections dancing across the walls.

"It was my great-grandfather's," Nathan said. "He brought it over from Europe in 1922."

Harper ran her fingers lightly over the carved details adorning the hood. "The woodwork is incredible. You don't see craftsmanship like this anymore."

He guided her to an open doorway. Sunlight streamed through two large sash windows on the far wall, casting warm rectangles across the polished hardwood floor. Bookshelves lined the walls to the left and right, their wooden shelves brimming with sheet music and leather-bound volumes. Gleaming string instruments hung like artwork on either side of the door, while scattered tables and music stands created intimate practice spaces throughout. A magnificent baby grand piano commanded attention from one end of the room, its ebony surface reflecting the natural light. Between the two windows, Harper spotted a cozy seating area with a plush loveseat and a pair of inviting armchairs, perfect for losing oneself in music or conversation.

Harper stared about the room. "Nathan, this is marvelous!"

He looked pleased. "It's the first thing I did when I bought the house, get a contractor in here and build the bookshelves. Sometimes a few friends from the conservatory come over and we jam."

Setting her coffee cup down on a nearby table, she moved to the piano, running her fingers over the glossy surface. "Oh, my gosh! It's a Steinway!"

Nathan came to join her at the piano. "It's over a hundred years old. It was my great-grandmother's."

"Wow! You really come from a family of musicians."

"I do," he admitted. "My mom and I both learned to play on this."

Reverently, she leaned over to run a scale. "It's in tune. You still play it?"

"Not so often as I should," he responded easily. "I play the violin, too, but I discovered the cello in high school, and never looked back. How about you? Is your family musical?"

"Nope, I'm the only one." Harper grinned at him. "My mom was an Anne McCaffrey fan, and named me after the Dragonriders of Pern series. I don't think they expected me to actually take up the harp, but Mom would read me a couple of the stories, about a young girl who was a harper and discovered firelizards, a kind of pet-sized small dragon. Anyway, I loved those stories, and I insisted I was going to play the harp. When I was six, my parents got me a small lyre harp for Christmas, and my grandparents contributed for lessons. I'm pretty sure they expected me to grow out of it, but I never did. I still play the lyre harp, but my favorite is the lap harp. I can play the standard harp, too, of course. I just prefer the lap harp and lyre."

"We'll definitely have to arrange a play date," Nathan told her, and she snickered at the pun.

"As soon as my things get here. Or at least," she amended, "if I get an apartment. Otherwise they'll be in storage for a bit."

"For sure it'd be better to be able to have the movers unload everything into an apartment, than into storage and have to move it all again."

She wrinkled her nose. "No kidding. Fortunately, I have a little time. The moving company has a couple of stops to make on the way here, so I've got a bit over a week."

"What are you looking for"

"Something on the second floor, so my fox can lay in the window and look out." She gave a little shrug, and smiled. "I like to hang out with my fox a bit when I'm at home."

"Nothing wrong with that," Nathan told her. "I suffer a bit from animal envy. I'd love to hang out as a fox, or a cat, or a wolf or something."

She grinned at him. "Hashtag sorrynotsorry."

Nathan laughed, leading the way back to the living room. He took his seat in an armchair, and Harper reclaimed her seat on the sofa.

Harper settled more comfortably into the plush sofa cushions, curling her legs underneath her. The patter of rain against the windows created a soothing backdrop to their conversation.

"Would you like me to light a fire?" Nathan gestured toward the stone fireplace. "These late summer nights can still get chilly, and there's nothing cozier than a crackling fire."

The words hit Harper like a physical blow, knocking the air from her lungs. Her chest constricted as memories flooded back - choking smoke, screams, the roar of flames consuming everything in their path. The acrid stench of burning wood and melting plastic filled her nostrils, phantom echoes of that day she'd tried so hard to forget. She forced herself to take slow, deep breaths, counting in her mind, as she'd learned to do. One… two… three… four...

Nathan leaned forward, concern etching deep lines around his warm brown eyes. His hand hovered in mid-air, as if unsure whether to reach for her. "Harper, what's wrong?"

Harper wrapped her arms around herself, trying to still the tremors. "Four years ago, there was a fire at the bank where I worked." Her voice came out barely above a whisper. "It started in the electrical room. The smoke was so thick..." She swallowed hard. "Three people didn't make it out. Jenny from accounting, who always brought homemade cookies to share. Mark, the security guard who told terrible dad jokes. And Sarah, who'd just returned from a vacation in Barbados. Her boyfriend had asked her to marry him, and she was so happy, showing us pictures...."

Reyna whimpered in her mind, sharing the remembered terror.

"I haven't been able to be around fire since then," Harper continued. "Even fireplaces. And the smell of smoke. It takes me right back. I know it's irrational, but-"

"It's not irrational at all," Nathan interrupted gently. "That's a traumatic experience. I'm so sorry you went through that."

Harper drew in a deep, steadying breath, focusing on pulling clean, fresh air into her lungs. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment - here she was, having a meltdown over a simple offer to light a fireplace. What must Nathan think of her? She hadn't meant to dump all of that on him, a virtual stranger.

The trembling in her limbs began to subside as she concentrated on her surroundings - the soft patter of rain against the windows, the gentle whir of the ceiling fan, the distant sound of a motorcycle.

He reached across the gap that separated them and took her fingers in a comforting clasp.

"You don't need to be embarrassed," he said softly, his thumb brushing across her knuckles. "Trauma doesn't follow logical rules. And you survived something terrible."

His touch was comforting rather than intrusive, and Harper found herself grateful for the connection. The last lingering tremors stilled as she focused on the warmth of his hand holding hers.

Nathan studied her down-turned face with the same gentle patience he used when teaching his music students. The lamplight cast shadows across his features, highlighting the warmth in his brown eyes.

"Have you..." Nathan paused, choosing his words with care. His voice was soft, filled with genuine concern. "Have you considered talking to someone? A therapist, maybe?"

Heat crept up her neck as she ducked her head, unable to meet his eyes. "I meant to," she mumbled. "They provided a therapist. I kept telling myself I would make an appointment, but..." Her voice trailed off.

Nathan remained silent, patient, his thumb still making small, comforting circles on her hand. The quiet stretched between them until Harper couldn't bear it anymore.

"I didn't want to go," she confessed in a rush, her words tumbling over themselves. "A therapist would want me to talk about it, to relive everything happening. I couldn't... I didn't want to think about it, let alone talk about it." Her voice cracked on the last words, and she swallowed hard against the tightness in her throat. Memories she'd tried so hard to bury threatened to surface, making her chest constrict. "It was easier to... push it away. To pretend none of it ever happened." Her fingers trembled where they rested in Nathan's gentle grasp.

Nathan squeezed her hand. "I can understand that. Sometimes facing trauma head-on feels impossible."

Relief washed through Harper at his understanding. No judgment, no pressure - just acceptance.

Harper cleared her throat, desperate to change the subject. "So, um, I'm curious..." She gestured vaguely around the room, including Jill who had curled up on the floor next to Nathan's feet. "How did you discover all this? The supernatural world, I mean. And Jill - a jackalope of all things!"

Nathan's eyes lit up, and he released her hand to lean back in his chair. The loss of contact left her fingers oddly cold, but she tucked them into her lap, focusing on his story instead of the lingering sensation of his touch.

"It's actually quite a story." He chuckled, running a hand through his sandy hair. "A few months ago, I was teaching a half-day at the conservatory. When I got home, I found this injured baby rabbit just outside my garage. At least, I thought it was just a rabbit at first, then it hopped closer, right up to me, and I got my first look at her."

Harper's eyes widened. "Jill?"

Nathan nodded, settling back in his chair. "Exactly. I found her huddled against my garage door, bleeding from what looked like bite marks. Probably a predator attack." He shook his head, remembering. "I had no idea what to do. I mean, you can't exactly walk into any vet clinic with a mythological creature."

Harper leaned forward, fascinated. Reyna perked up her ears too, equally invested in the story. At their feet, Jill twitched in her sleep, one ear flopping over her face.

"So I googled veterinary clinics," Nathan continued, "figuring maybe somewhere rural would be... I don't know, more discreet? Less likely to call animal control or the media?" He ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up in disheveled spikes. "I found this place called Country Veterinary Clinic. It was out in the countryside, good reviews, and all that."

Harper's eyes widened. "Troy's clinic?" She'd heard about it from Katerina earlier that day.

"Yep. Though I didn't know that at the time." Nathan chuckled. "So I ran next door to the neighbors - they do dog rescue - and borrowed a crate, and put my injured mythological creature in it, and drove out there expecting... well, I don't know what I was expecting. But definitely not what happened."

He leaned forward, eyes sparkling with amusement. "We get in the exam room, and Troy takes one look at Jill and yells 'Katerina!' at the top of his lungs. Next thing I know, this huge Maine Coon cat comes trotting in, gives me this look..." He mimicked an imperious feline stare that made Harper giggle. "And then she sees Jill, and suddenly there's a woman standing there instead of a cat."

Harper couldn't help giggling at his impression of Troy's deep voice.

"That's actually how I met most of the others - through Troy and Katerina. They figured if a wild jackalope trusted me, they could trust me, so they gradually introduced me to more of the supernatural community." He smiled warmly. "It's been quite an education. For them, too," he added. "None of them had known jackalopes were real any more than the rest of us regular humans."

Harper nodded, well able to understand that. "So you became Jill's owner."

"Kahu," Nathan corrected, with a faint smile. "It's a Hawaiian term I ran into some time ago. It means guardian or caretaker, rather than owner."

"Oh, I like that!" Harper exclaimed. "Kahu! I'll remember that."

Nathan's expression grew thoughtful as he gazed down at the sleeping jackalope. "I'm still not sure what had her seeking me out that day, but I'm glad she did."

Harper watched his gentle smile, warmth spreading through her chest at the obvious affection between man and magical creature. Reyna stirred inside her, projecting images of curling up around Jill, protecting the little one. The fox's maternal instincts surprised Harper - Reyna had never shown interest in caring for others before.

"Maybe she sensed you'd understand," Harper suggested softly. "That you'd be open to the impossible." She certainly felt that way herself, drawn to his accepting nature and quiet strength. Something about Nathan made her feel... safe. Like she could let her guard down without fear of judgment.

Good mate , Reyna approved. Gentle. Kind.

Harper fought back a blush at her fox's continued assumptions. Though she had to admit, Nathan's calm acceptance of the supernatural world was appealing. Many humans would have panicked at finding a mythological creature, but he'd simply focused on getting Jill the help she needed.

"Could be," Nathan agreed. "Though I think I got the better end of the deal. She's brought so much joy into my life, and introduced me to this amazing community." His warm brown eyes met hers. "Including you."

The simple sincerity in his voice made Harper's heart skip. She ducked her head, unable to hold his gaze, her cheeks burning. Reyna practically purred with satisfaction.

Stop that , Harper scolded her fox. But she couldn't deny the flutter in her stomach at Nathan's words, or the way his presence made her feel simultaneously nervous and completely at ease.

Harper stifled a yawn, trying to hide it behind her hand. The long day was catching up with her - between the cross-country flight, exploring her new town, and meeting so many new people, exhaustion tugged at her bones.

Nathan noticed immediately. "You must be tired. The time change alone would be rough."

"Three hours," Harper agreed, struggling to keep her eyes open. "But really it was the plane trip, and the lay-overs coming across country." She stretched, her muscles protesting the long day of travel the day before.

"Let me drive you back to the inn," Nathan offered, already half-rising from his chair.

Harper shook her head, pulling out her phone. "That's sweet, but I'll just grab an Uber. You've already been so kind, showing me your studio and introducing me to Jill." Speaking of whom, the little jackalope had curled up tighter, one ear flopped over her face.

"Are you sure? It's really no trouble."

"Positive." Harper smiled, touched by his concern. "I'll be buying a car later this week, anyway. Plus, it's storming out there."

They both could hear the rain pounding on the roof, thunder rumbling overhead. She opened the Uber app, pleased to see several drivers nearby. Within moments, she had confirmation of her ride.

"They'll be here in five minutes," she told Nathan, pushing herself to her feet. Reyna stirred sleepily inside her, radiating contentment and a lingering desire to stay. Harper firmly ignored her fox's protests.

Nathan walked her to the door. "Thank you for coming over. It was wonderful meeting you."

"You too." Harper meant it. Despite her exhaustion, she'd thoroughly enjoyed their conversation. "And thanks for sharing Jill's story."

"Anytime." His warm smile made her heart flutter. "Maybe next time you visit, you can bring your lap harp? Once your things arrive, I mean."

"I'd like that." Harper returned his smile, though another yawn threatened. "Good night, Nathan."

"Good night, Harper. Get some rest."

As she climbed into the waiting Uber, Harper couldn't help glancing back at Nathan's house. He stood in the doorway, watching to make sure she got safely into the car. The simple gesture warmed her heart.

Good mate , Reyna murmured sleepily as Harper settled into the back seat.

Oh, hush , Harper thought back, but there was no real heat in it. Her fox just hummed contentedly as Harper gave the driver directions to the West Side Inn.