Page 18 of Trees Take the Long View

It quickly became apparent his guess about my not being particularly wanted there was accurate; he phoned ahead, and no, his client would not appreciate an unexpected wolf. So I was on my own. Fortunately, there were two interesting-sounding local parks nearby, parks of the forested kind, rather than the grassy dog-walking kind. I knew what I'd be doing today.

After we stashed our stuff at our hotel room, he headed off to tackle the task and meet his new owl friend, looking grim, and I headed off. A quick stop at a grocery store later, and I was stocked. Since it wouldn't be wise to take a full-on wolf prowl in strange surroundings, I contented myself with some vigorous hiking.

The woods got deep pretty fast and I was able to go off-trail for some real peace and quiet. I ate my lunch on a fallen tree, being watched by some curious squirrels and chipmunks who wanted my crumbs, wolf or no. I left them a few. It was almost dark by the time I returned to the hotel, tired out but feeling rested and rejuvenated by the time spent in nature, not having to interact with any non-shifters or bosses.

Dean wasn't back yet, but had left me a text saying it would be a couple more hours. Since there was a small stove, I went out again and got a few more groceries, and set about cooking us a supper: my signature banana-and-cocoa pancakes, bacon, and scrambled eggs. I took a guess when he'd actually arrive, and aimed for everything to get done converging on that one point.

Since there were only two small burners, it was a balancing act. I saved the eggs for last, as they'd get cold the quickest. I was just stirring them one last time to see if they were really and truly done, and had begun to wonder if I'd just have to break down and eat everything myself in his absence, when Dean entered the room.

He looked tired. That was my first thought: tired and defeated. His shoulders slumped and his eyes had no brightness in them.

He stopped, stock still, and stared, mouth falling open a little bit. "You cooked?"

"No, the breakfast fairy stopped by—late." I walked up to him and wrapped my arms around him gingerly, and gave him a gentle kiss. He remembered to return it before I could get too insulted.

"I can't believe you cooked. What is it? Everything smells delicious."

"Pancakes, bacon, and eggs. Come on, sit down before everything's cold." I guided him to the tiny table, barely big enough for both of us, and got him a plate. It felt good fussing over him, taking care of him. Needless to say it's a special feeling to feed one's mate. Even though we weren't officially that, there's no denying I enjoyed it.

It was really gratifying how much he enjoyed the meal, as well. "I thought we'd have to go out somewhere," he mumbled, not slowing down to talk properly. "This is great." Clearly, walking in on a meal cooked just for him wasn't something that happened a lot.

Maybe someday it would be normal enough he could take it for granted. A long day? No worries, mate was waiting for him with a hot meal. Surely it would be nice to know you were coming home to someone, not going to be alone. I certainly wouldn't mind that—although it seemed pretty clear that no matter what I ended up doing, my hours wouldn't be as long and stressful as his currently were. At least on this case, it was already taking a toll.

He was complementary about my cooking. The breakfast foods had been a lucky guess. He was definitely into breakfast foods. After he was less ravenous, I got him to tell me about his day.

"He's demoralized," said Dean. "This should be an open and shut case, but they've got a big lawyer and a friendly judge. I'll have to arrange our best legal team, try to bring in the big guns so they know they can't fuck this guy over—that he isn't on his own. It sucks that it's necessary—and the judge is such an asshole he still might refuse to uphold the law."

"Can he do that?" I stopped chewing and stared. "I thought they had to follow the law."

"Well, they can do what they want, if they're in a county that won't get rid of them, or can't—and all we can do then is appeal to a higher judge to overturn. Which can take years. So yeah, he could still screw our owl over, even if there's no case for it. In the meantime, waiting years for what he's owed, and if he doesn't get backup of some kind—hell, he'd die without ever getting to an appeal. That's what we're up against here—an unfriendly court system that has every reason to drag it out, and a disabled veteran who won't survive if they manage it."

"Wow. That's pretty evil."

"Yep."

We ate in silence for a bit. "What's the judge's name?"

He gave me a look. "You're not going to try to 'help,' are you?"

"I just wondered."

"The Honorable Bryant J. Phearson. I wish he was honorable. I'm going to do everything I can to get our legal department to come in guns blazing, and make sure everyone knows there will be all sorts of lights shined on the injustice, and a big stink made, and lots of national press. That, and make sure our client gets taken care of properly in the meantime. I know my bosses will sign off on the monetary aspects of this—especially since they want more owls to work with us, not fewer, and this is a real litmus test—but it would help if he had family in the area, for moral support, something. It just seems like he's so entirely on his own."

"Isn't there a flock of owls you could contact, or something?"

He grimaced. "I don't really know much about owl shifter social structures. If there are any family groups around here, they've kept pretty quiet. But he seems to be on his own."

"Well, maybe owls from somewhere else? You already said he doesn't want wolves around, so I assume he's not eager to have other sorts of shifters or non-shifters around?"

"I'll have to ask." He sighed. "I'll contact the head office and see if they can get in touch with some owls who might be willing to get involved in supporting him, and I'll have to make sure he knows we won't abandon him with the legal stuff. That's the most critical thing at this stage. Just keep him from giving up."

"That'll mean a lot."

"I hope so. People die of despair all the time, Alec—even when they don't have major medical issues as well."

"I know," I said very quietly.

He looked at me then, and we didn't talk for a while.