Page 55

Elliot Crane

Where the hell is Ma?

Seth Crane

How would I know?

Somebody should.

Pa and Val don’t.

Henry doesn’t.

Ray says that she’s with the girls.

Getting their nails done.

See?

You did know.

I did not.

Ray did.

Who is the girls, anyway?

Quincy, Helen, Lacy, Ronda, Kitty, Lulu, and Shira.

Apparently.

Shira’s getting her nails done?!?!

I am only typing what Ray says.

I am otherwise innocent.

I have never seen Shira with done nails in my life.

She’s a carpenter.

We don’t do our nails.

Maybe you don’t.

But I bet you’d look great with glitter polish.

You’re a monster.

I don’t know you.

I love you, though.

But would you if I painted your nails with glitter polish?

Yes.

But I would get revenge.

I couldn’t help laughing at that. It was shaping up to be one of those rare warm-but-not-too-warm October days that only happen once a year in Wisconsin.

The leaves were still painted in brilliant colors, the sheen of autumn just starting to take the edge off the color, the sun was out, warming my skin and making my already sun-bleached hair shimmer as a few of the too-long strands blew into my eyes.

I needed it cut, which was actually why I was sitting outside in the back yard, waiting for Taavi—who apparently knew how to cut hair.

I’d intentionally come out early, a big mug of coffee warming my hands against the slight chill of the morning.

I was sitting in one of the wooden Adirondack chairs Elliot had made for our not-quite-finished fire pit.

Ray was lounging next to me, reading a book on herbalism he’d borrowed from Gregory Crane’s collection.

“Having second thoughts?” The voice came from behind me. It was Mason Manning, his low rumble as warm as the ceramic in my hands.

I chuckled. “Absolutely not,” I replied. “Besides, even if I did, it would be far too late, since we’ve been married for like a month and a half.”

“It was a bit of a shotgun wedding,” Ray remarked without looking up. “Wouldn’t blame you if you did have second thoughts.”

I turned to look at him, incredulous. “How the hell was it a shotgun wedding?” I asked him.

Ray did look up at that, grinning toothily at the fact that I’d fallen for the bait. “Hellie definitely had a shotgun,” he pointed out.

I rolled my eyes. “Not at the wedding,” I reminded him.

“Still, she’d’ve gotten it out if he’d needed her to.”

“If he ’d needed it?” I asked.

Ray cackled. “We had some chats, Elliot and I,” he said. “He was afraid you wouldn’t say yes.”

“He talked to you about wanting to marry me?” I blurted, shocked. When he’d said I could become a Crane, it had felt spontaneous. Not… planned.

“Of course he did,” Ray replied with a snort. “You think a man would drop everything for a month to deal with the Mayses if he wasn’t prepared to marry one of them?”

I blinked. “He didn’t know how bad it was,” I admitted. “Not until we started driving, anyway.”

“And he still came, didn’t he?”

“I mean, yeah, but?—”

Ray set the book on his lap, one finger holding his place. “Seth, you’re a nice boy, but even you have to admit, you’re pretty blind to just how much that man loves you.”

I felt my neck flush, especially when Mason chuckled. “I am not.”

“Can’t blame you,” Ray remarked. “Knowing your people. For all their preaching about the love of God, I’m not entirely sure they know what the word means.

” His yellow gaze was sharp. “You do, that much is clear, but that badger of yours is totally devoted. He would give up anything for you, you know,” he continued.

“He’d have moved out to Virginia if you’d asked him to. ”

I blinked again. “Why would I ask him to do that?”

“Because that’s where your family is,” Mason put in.

“No,” I countered. “Noah might be, but Elliot is my family, too. And he’s here.”

“Does he know that?” Mason asked me.

I turned to look at the big orc. “Of course he does. I moved out here because of him.”

I had, but even as I said it, I realized that maybe Elliot didn’t know. Maybe he thought I’d moved out here for the job first. Maybe he thought the job—not him—was why I’d decided to stay. Maybe he’d wondered if I wanted to move back to Virginia, closer to Noah, closer to where I’d grown up.

I didn’t. I liked it in Shawano—I liked my job, yes, but I loved this house and this community because it was a big part of what had made Elliot into the man I loved. Because it was part of him.

I picked up my phone again.

I love you.

You know that, right?

Yes?

Why?

You know that I like it here, right?

Sure?

What’s going on?

I just need you to know.

You’re literally the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

My phone started buzzing. I sighed, and answered.

“Yeah?”

“Seriously, baby, what’s going on?” Elliot sounded worried.

“Nothing! I just wanted you to know.” I knew my neck was turning red.

“Why?”

Ray reached over and stole my phone.

“Hey!” I objected.

“Don’t you fuss your fuzzy little head,” the ghoul said into the phone.

“We’ve been ragging on the poor thing.” He paused.

“Nah, he’s good.” Another pause. “No, but if Mason and I don’t show up, he’s dismembered us and hidden the bodies.

” He laughed. “Nope. He loves you, and we’ll see you in a few hours. ”

And then he hung up and handed me my phone back with another toothy grin.

I stared at him for a beat. “You’re a dick, Ray,” I said, finally, deciding he’d probably find it funny if I was blunt.

His laughter told me I was right. Even Mason snorted.

“You’re both dicks,” I clarified, aware that my neck, face, and ears were now all red.

“You didn’t see Elliot earlier,” Mason replied, still sounding amused.

“No?” He’d been up and dragged out of the house by Henry—with Hart in tow—at an extremely early hour for Elliot.

I’d still been sleeping thanks to a late night the night before at a highway accident scene that, fortunately, hadn’t involved any fatalities, but had required us to put out a burning car.

Mason laughed. “He had a few moments,” the big orc rumbled diplomatically.

“Moments?” I wasn’t sure what that meant, although I could tell from his tone that Mason found these moments amusing.

“I had a few moments myself the morning I married Helen,” Ray replied good-naturedly. “You know— will she actually go through with this? That kind of thing.”

I looked back and forth between them. “Why would he have moments?” I asked. “We’re literally already married.”

Mason smiled. “Because it’s one thing to agree to a quick legal wedding,” he replied. “And another thing to stand up in front of your friends and family.” He shrugged. “It just feels bigger.”

“Why?” I asked him, confused.

He shrugged again. “No idea, but Ward and I had already gotten married before our ceremony, too. In the hospital, with a lovely chaplain we ended up inviting to the full wedding. I was still nervous, and he was an absolute wreck.”

I frowned. “Is it a problem that I’m not nervous?” I asked.

Ray laughed again. “Give it a few hours,” he replied cheerfully.

I hated that Ray had been right.

By the time the actual feather ceremony happened, I was terrified. Not of being bound to Elliot—never that—but of messing up something I was supposed to do. Saying something wrong, doing something wrong, somehow sticking my foot in it and offending the entire Menominee Nation…

I knew Elliot would probably still love me even if I did do one of those things, but he’d be disappointed, and that was the last thing I wanted to do.

But I hadn’t messed anything up, Henry had kept winking at me through the whole thing, and nobody had seemed particularly upset at the big white guy being brought into the Menominee community.

It had helped that Hart was there with Elliot, looking about as awkward as I’d felt, and that, before the whole thing started, he’d sidled up to me and whispered, “They’re very tolerant of us tall white guys. Just do whatever anybody tells you, and you’ll be fine.”

I’d been given a red button-down trimmed in red, white, yellow, and black ribbon at the straight collar and cuffs, which I wore with black slacks. Hart had a white one with similar trim, Noah one in black.

Elliot, however, wore a ribbon shirt that was mostly red, but with the other three colors in patterned ribbons that ran the length of his sleeves, down the front, and around the collar, cuffs, and hem of the shirt.

He also wore leggings rather than slacks, soft leather boots with bead- and quill-work, dangling beaded earrings, and had ribbons and feathers braided into his hair.

He looked stunning.

Other than Henry, who had performed the ceremony itself, everyone else there was in a mix of clothing—many of the Nation members, including Shira, wore a combination of traditional Menominee and modern American semi-formal wear, and my friends and the Harts were just in their usual American wedding attire—suits, skirts, dresses, slacks and dress shirts with a vest or sweater.

When I imagined it, I’d expected that most of the people there would be Elliot’s friends, family, extended family, Nation members, and maybe a few people I knew. Noah, certainly, and Lulu.

But I’d had plenty of people grinning back at me when I’d walked in—Helen and Ray had come out, as had James Humbolt and his wife Lynda, Quincy and Aaron, Taavi and Lulu (because Hart and Noah were standing with us), Mason and Ward and all three kids…

But even more than that, Gale Smith, Ronda Eichman, Lacy Krinke, and Roger Marcks from the Shawano PD and Sheriff’s Office had all been there, Nathaniel Rivers, Kitty Matuszack, Burce Demain, and Lieutenant Robin Colfax from the fire investigation squad, and even Dan Maza had come out with Quincy and Aaron.

It was a lot more people than I’d thought would want to see me get married.

A lot more people than I’d ever thought I would be able to call friends.

The ceremony itself had been mid-afternoon, and dinner had been served as the sun set, painting the sky with color.

The buffet tables had been overloaded with both traditional Menominee and traditional Wisconsin foods, everything from duck and venison and smoked fish to macaroni and cheese, bratwurst, and sauerkraut.

Nobody went even a little bit hungry.

Several bonfires had been lit as the light completely faded from the sky, and Judy Hart and Henry broke out the largest spread of s’mores ingredients I’d ever seen, including all three ingredients in vegan versions just for me.

For most of my life, I’d expected to just get by. To hopefully find someone willing to put up with my quirks and foibles, someone who would be willing to make space for me in their life. I’d expected to be satisfied with my work and hoped to find comfort in my personal life. Security.

In Elliot, I’d found so much more. So much better . I hadn’t had to change who I was to make him happy, although loving him had changed me. Yes, I’d moved halfway across the country for him, but he’d not just made space for me, but remade the space to fit me.

I’d never understood the difference before.

Never understood what it meant that someone would always put me first. That we had a sloping ramp off the back porch—just finished last week—so that it would be easier on my knees to go out into the garden, and that I hadn’t asked for it. Elliot had just designed it in.

He never complained that I couldn’t eat certain things, and never made a big deal out of cooking food that both of us could share.

Sure, he’d get a burger or cheese curds when we went out, and there was still dairy in the fridge for sandwiches and such, but our meals were always something I could eat, no complaints, no sighs.

And whenever I came home after a full night of fire fighting or a crime scene or the scene of an accident—like last night—there was always food waiting for me, either in the oven or in the fridge, even if Elliot wasn’t there when I got back.

He was the first thing I thought of in the morning, and the last thing I breathed in at night, and I knew, for the first time in my life, that I was that to him, too.

I jumped a little when a pair of warm, rough, familiar hands settled on my hips.

“Sorry, baby,” came Elliot’s murmur. I turned, lifting an arm so that he could tuck himself under my shoulder, one arm still around my waist. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

I kissed his temple. “Just lost in my own head,” I replied.

“In a good way or a bad way?”

I smiled. “Good way. Just thinking about my wonderful husband.”

That made him laugh. “Really? Have I met him?”

I nudged his hip with mine. “Stop that,” I admonished him. “You’re the only husband I ever want.”

He turned his head so that he could kiss the hand resting on his shoulder. “Good. Because now that you’re part of the Nation, you’re stuck with me.”

“You know wolves mate for life, right? Unlike you promiscuous mustelids.”

The smile he gave me warmed me down to my toes. “I’m counting on it.”