Page 36 of Wolf's Fate
I knew it was south, I didn’t know why.
I knew it was a direction he focused—fixated—on a lot. Caleb’s gaze always seemed to drift that way, and I had spent too many hours wondering what unseen something pulled his focus so. Because I knew it wasn’t a casual glance. The intensity of his focus was in his posture, in his narrowed stare, and I wanted to know the answer as to what place it was that he couldn’t let go of.
Or who.
Was it another part of his past? The past he kept from me.Keptwas an exaggeration. Caleb owed me nothing. Well…he owed me a huge explanation about a lot of things, but his past? Was it really something he needed to share?
He was a loner, always distant, even when we were in a truck driving for hours. I couldn’t help but wonder what made him that way. What had happened to turn him into someone who thrived on solitude, who kept everyone at arm’s length?Would I ever find out, or would part of him always remain distant and a mystery?
But as the bus ate up the distance, I was honest with myself and asked possibly the most important question of all. Did I need to know? Would understanding what broke him change anything between us, or was I just fixating on him like he fixated on that direction south?
Caleb Foster fascinated me.
Even without the knowledge he could change shape and become a wolf, he would have been intriguing. There was something about him, raw and magnetic, that drew me to him long before I knew the full extent of his secrets. Caleb had a quiet intensity. The way he looked at me, and others, like he was already thinking a step ahead—it captivated me.
I wasn’t one for psychic connections and star signs and all that, despite my current circumstances, but I did feel like there was an aura around Caleb, one that made you feel like there was so muchmore. Even with his quiet ways, there was a weight to his silence, and I wanted to know what it was that he found so heavy to bear the burden of. It was that mystery and depth that would have made anyone want to peel back his layers and look closer.
Doodling a few simple flowers beside the drawing I did of him before, I wondered if the fact that I was drawing scenes of him was more than “peeling back layers.”
In this, I was the intrusive one. He had no say in the matter, and to an extent, neither did I. With one last look at the sketch, I closed the sketchbook and turned my attention to the countryside. The bus rolled steadily along, and through the dirty window, streaked with fingerprints from passengersbefore me, and dirt from the road, I watched the Colorado landscape stretch out before me, and my fingers itched to paint it. Tall pines towered over the highway, the afternoon sun showing the deep dark green of the needles. The mountain peaks of the Rockies loomed in the distance, snow evident on the highest peaks, a reminder that autumn was here, and winter wouldn’t be far behind. Looking at the peaks, my eyes taking in the details like never before, I wondered which one Caleb was on.
As the bus climbed higher, the dense forestry thinned a little, opening up to wide expansive fields, and somehow their vast emptiness added to the beauty of the land. I needed to learn to drive, I promised myself. One simple road trip, and the car would be overflowing with paintings and art.
A few ranch houses were scattered across the landscape, breaking up the scenery. I saw some cattle, but other than them and the cars on the road, it was all very serene. As the bus took me further away, I felt the bubble of anxiety that I had been holding onto since the bus station dissolve a little. Even the air inside the bus felt cleaner, and the silliness of the thought made me smile.
It was so peaceful, a complete contrast to what was happening in my mind, yet the wild beauty of the landscape and those mountains casting their shadow over the land had a way of reminding me how small I was in comparison, and in the grand scheme of things, so were my problems. While I told myself this and had an “I am a blip on the radar of time” moment, I could still feel the knot of tension lingering in my stomach, and the sense of unease that had followed me since I boarded this bus was still ever-present.
No matter how beautiful it was, I still wanted to know ifthe man at the station was waiting for me or if I truly just had an overactive imagination.
All too soon, I was picking up my stuff and getting ready to disembark. I needed to catch one more bus to get to Kettlebridge.
I followed the limited directions to get a local service, half expecting a rickshaw or something to be waiting to take me to the next stop. Instead, I saw the familiar shape of someone I knew.
“Doc?”
He looked up from the newspaper he was reading, checking his watch before getting to his feet. “You’re early?”
Glancing at my own watch, I saw that I was. “Oh.” The bus I was on was supposed to be more scenic, which it had been, but I thought I got in later. “I must have read the timetable wrong.”
Doc took my backpack off me, without asking, and the feminist in me wanted to protest, but I was also relieved as it was heavy, so I decided that I could let it slide this time.
“Why is this so light?” Doc asked, hefting it over his shoulder. “Is there another bag?”
He thought it waslight? “Um, it’s heavy. No, there’s no other bag.”
Doc smiled. “Okay, you ready?”
“Yup.” I followed him to a truck, and I shouldn’t have been surprised to see Ned waiting, but I was. “Oh, hi?”
Ned was wearing shades, and I had to say, he looked very appealing in his dark khaki jacket, denims, and black boots. He had that whole bad boy vibe. Which I hadn’t appreciatedbefore, and now, knowing he was probably watching me check him out, I wished I hadn’t appreciated it at all.
“Hey,” he greeted with one of those slight dips of his head, all cool-like and hip. “You got any sketchbooks you need to show us?”
“Right in there, eh?” I murmured, saying thanks to Doc, who opened the truck’s back door for me.
Ned wasn’t fazed by my remark. “Do you?”
Pulling on my seat belt, I opened the backpack and handed the whole thing to Ned, who was in the passenger seat. Doc was already signaling to pull out. “A few of them are new.” I was going to explain about the guy from the station, but Ned was ahead of me.