Page 8 of Loan Wolf (Green Valley Shifters: Generations #1)

8

CLARA

M ueller’s Pond didn’t look the way Clara remembered.

The pond was once a gravel pit and scrubby trees around the murky water were thicker and taller now; she couldn’t really make out the edges of the excavation. She tossed rocks in as if she was a child, and tried without success to find anything that resembled her memories of a magical oasis.

When sunset started to bury the place in shadows, Clara found a mossy place at the base of a tree and sat to watch the sky change colors. She waited until the stars came out, and gazed up at them, too comfortable and confused to want to get up and find her way back to the town that didn’t feel like home anymore.

Her stepmother was in Madison for a late show and was staying overnight with Andrea (Patricia’s long-time friend and Aaron’s stepmother) rather than coming back to Green Valley, so there was no reason to hurry back. Clara sat and tried to make sense of her life for an hour… and then another hour… and another.

She had hoped that coming to Green Valley would put her rosy memories of the town back in proper perspective. Dancing had been a fun thing that she loved to do, then. She could play with her best friends without feeling the weight of relationship expectations every time she turned around. She was just a kid, and a career in dancing had been an abstract idea, not a cage.

For some reason, the sound of a rumbly truck crunching over gravel didn’t alarm her, even though she was a woman alone in an isolated area. If it was someone planning to harm her, they’d swiftly find more resistance than they were looking for. Clara felt like she was spoiling for a fight.

The truck parked near the place the boat launch had been and Clara still didn’t look around, even when a door creaked open and slammed shut.

Slow footsteps didn’t attempt stealth as they approached.

“If you’re looking for a place to go skinny dipping, there are much better ponds in the area.” Gabe. Of course it was Gabe, come looking for his bike, since she was over an hour late by now, though she wasn’t sure how he’d known where she would be.

Clara chuckled dryly. “There’s a No Swimming sign,” she pointed out. It was barely visible in the gloom.

“And you are just the kind of girl who obeys the signs and follows the rules,” Gabe guessed.

Clara looked up at him, annoyed by the truth of his statement. He should be terrifying, but she didn’t feel unsafe. He must have guessed how he was looming above her, because he squatted, still a safe distance away. “You okay?”

“I decided to keep the bike for twenty-four hours,” Clara said, which wasn’t an answer. “I’ll pay the rest.”

“I’m not really worried about the bike,” Gabe said. After a moment, he added, “I guess you’ve heard the rumors about this place?”

“It can grant wishes,” Clara said quietly. “It can change you.”

“Probably not worth the swimmer’s itch and leeches,” Gabe observed. His face was in shadows, but Clara could hear the dry humor in his voice. “I mean, there’s change and then there’s sepsis .”

Clara had to laugh. “I doubt that a little algae would kill me,” she scoffed.

“And yet here you are, on the shore, staring at it instead of out there swimming.” Gabe went smoothly from a crouch to a seat, a companionable distance away. “What stopped you? Afraid to get dirty?”

Stung, Clara protested, “I’m not afraid to get dirty!” even though she knew that every part of her belied the statement. Her sneakers gleamed white in the darkness.

“Were you going to wish for fame and fortune?” Gabe teased. “Don’t you already have that?”

Clara balled her hands up in fists by her side. Everyone thought she had everything, and she hated that she did. “Have you ever gone swimming here?” she snapped. “What did you wish for? Fame and fortune? Or do you already have that, too?”

Gabe went quiet and Clara knew that she’d struck a nerve. “Sorry,” she said at once. “I was out of line.”

“So was I,” Gabe pointed out. “And I have gone swimming here.” His voice was weirdly flat. “My mom was sick and I wished she would live.”

Clara hissed in a breath. Here she was lamenting the fact that she was fortunate, and he was making wishes for a sick mom. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t.”

They sat quietly for a long moment and both spoke at the same time.

“Sorry—” “Sorry?—”

Gabe cleared his throat. “I can give you a ride back to town.”

“I’d like that,” Clara said, “but I’m not ready to go yet.” There was something about the darkness—and Gabe’s solid presence—that made her feel like she was right where she ought to be. She threw another rock into the pond with a satisfying thunk. Gabe followed it with one of his own.

“Did it work?” Clara finally had to ask. “When you made your wish here?”

They were sitting close enough now that she could feel Gabe shrug. “She lived for six more awful, awful months in terrible pain. Was it because of me, or because she was too stubborn to go quietly? I’ll never know.”

“That must have been awful, ” Clara said, reaching out in the darkness. She found his thigh with her hand and thought she must be very shallow to find the touch electric and exciting when they were talking about such terrible things.

“I almost came back to swim again and take back my wish,” Gabe admitted. “It was the cruelest thing I could have done, to keep her here past her time.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Clara said, rubbing his leg the slightest bit. He didn’t shy away, as Clara half-expected him to.

“Maybe,” he admitted. “But that didn’t make it any easier.”

“My mother died when I was a baby,” Clara volunteered inanely. “Not that it compares.”

“It’s not a competition,” Gabe said, putting a hand over hers. “You’re still allowed to miss someone you never got to know.”

How was he so kind? Clara wondered. How did he know just what to say to strike straight into her heart and make her feel heard?

How was his hand so warm and his thigh so perfect?

“Anyway, it’s not like we had a perfect relationship,” Gabe said. “We argued all the time. I was a terrible kid.”

“I’m sure you weren’t a terrible kid!” Clara said quickly.

“I’m sure you weren’t a terrible kid,” Gabe countered. “I snuck out at night and got tattoos and played music too loud and got arrested for vandalizing the library.”

“You vandalized the library?!”

“Spray-painted a penis on the back wall. Penises are edgy when you’re fifteen.”

Clara had to giggle. “That’s probably the biggest crime to happen in Green Valley since I left!”

“Completely ruined my reputation,” Gabe said matter-of-factly. “Cemented my image as Green Valley’s screwup. Validated all my mother’s low opinions of me.”

“I’m sure your mother didn’t have a low opinion of you,” Clara said earnestly.

“You didn’t know my mother.”

Clara thought about how lucky she was to have a mother who loved and supported her. Two, even if she only remembered one of them. “I’m sorry?—”

“Don’t be. I can’t stand pity.”

“I can’t, either.”

It was some combination of the safe darkness and his warmth and their raw conversation that made Clara brave enough to let her hand slide further as she leaned into him and found his mouth with hers.