Riley

 

Thursday morning, I carry a basketful of nails, screws, rope, a screwdriver, and two hammers into the forest. Jack trudges after me, carrying the wood.

Yesterday evening when we came to Geppetto’s workshop, the Closed sign was still swinging behind the glass in the door. We missed him by seconds. With this brilliant plan forming in my head, every hour counted, so I told Jack to meet me at the shop right at cockcrow the next morning. It took a bit of hard work to make him come when he kept rolling his eyes, but in the end, he agreed. Most likely because he was too curious to see what I would craft today.

“Don’t dawdle back there!” I call over my shoulder. “There’s lots to do before this trap will be prince-fit.”

“I’m a wolf, not a drudge,” his querulous words drift to me from some twenty feet behind, followed by a low grumble of curses that I don’t want to repeat.

Close to the mill near the Timeless Brook, warm sunrays break through the treetops and mark the perfect spot for my trap. With a happy sigh, I put the basket down and swirl around to Jack. He’s a walking woodpile on legs. I can’t see anything of him above his belly button. “Watch out!” I say quickly and step aside before he knocks me over. “You can drop it here.”

A relieved grunt sounds from behind the wood. He lowers his arms, and a giant load of laths falls, tumbling to the mossy ground. With his forearm, he wipes the sweat from his face and braces his other hand against a tree trunk to catch his breath. “What do you need all this wood for? That’s enough to build a house.”

Not a house, but a box. A huge one. I push the hood of my cloak back. It’s fastened around my neck again because, last night, I replaced the button that popped off when Jack tried to blow me naked. From the inside pocket of the cloak, I remove the plan for my genius trap, which I rather awesomely drew with some fancy crayons. Unfolding the paper, I lay it on the ground and beckon Jack over with a nod. He lowers beside me.

The picture shows some trees. “That’s the woods,” I point out.

It earns me a wry look from Jack. “No shit.”

Ugh, he can be so unnerving in the early morning hours. “Right, so this,” I explain, ignoring his grumpiness as I point a finger at the blue square in the center of the drawing, “is the bed we’re going to make for the prince.”

“A bed?” Jack raises one eyebrow, sitting back on his heels. Like a sulking pixie, he folds his arms across his chest. “In the forest?”

“Yeah, well…they are easier to catch when they’re asleep.” Why can’t he just shut up and stick with my plan? It’s brilliant! “If a prince is racing his horse through the woods, he might be tired and appreciate a snug place to rest for a moment. I thought of bringing my sofa out here, but a pile of pillows will do, I guess. The main point is for it to look cozy and inviting to him.”

His eyes sparkle and his mouth becomes a tight curve, small dimples in his cheeks telling me how hard he’s trying not to laugh. Argh! He waves a hand at me. “Okay, go on.”

Bracing my palms on my thighs as I kneel on the ground, I lick my lips and emphasize my next words. “If you don’t take this seriously, you may as well go home, and we’ll eighty-six the whole plan.” I nail him with a scowl. “But then you’re coming to the ball with me, and you're going to help me pick a lover. Understand?”

“I’m sorry,” he pledges, yet I know he’s not because he shakes with laughter now. “Your idea is fantastic. Let’s build the prince trap. So, what the hell is this?”

I follow his finger to my excellent drawing of a brown, upside-down crate. “This is what we’re going to do today.” Picking up a twig from beside my knee, I finger it, glancing hopefully at Jack. “We’re going to build a box so big, it’ll easily slide over the pillow stack and the slumbering prince. A mighty branch will hold up one side so it looks like a nice little roof over the camp. This rope triggers the release.”

“Where will the two of us be in the meantime?”

“Right over here.” I tap the twig’s end on the bushes sketched on the plan, where two pairs of eyes peer out. I’d drawn a pair of pointed ears for Jack, too.

“And when the poor man hits the sack, we’re going to tug on this rope, which will pull the stick away, making the whole thing snap shut.”

“Exactly!” Radiant with delight, I toss away my twig. “It’s foolproof.”

“That remains to be seen.” A chuckle still on his lips, Jack stands and holds out a hand to me. “Come on, joiner’s apprentice. Let’s build you a prince trap.”

I climb to my feet with his help. We lay out the laths according to my plan and start screwing them together. The work actually takes longer than expected. The morning dwindles fast, the sun downright zooming across the sky.

When the last nail disappears into the wood, I drop back on my bottom and, with my cloak, wipe the sweat from my brow. “Phew. Finally.”

Jack sits down under a tree and watches me with a smirk. “Not your kind of work, hm?”

I shake my head. As hunger makes itself known with a rumble in my stomach, I jump up and go on a raid through the basket. Hidden under all the ironware were a couple of sandwiches and a bottle of mineral water. “Hungry?” I ask Jack, holding out a snack to him.

We eat together, and when I’m done with mine, I unscrew the lid of the bottle. Apparently, leaving the basket in the sun was a bad idea because the whole thing gushes over—the gas of the mineral water having reacted to the heat. In a panicked reflex, I hold the bottle away from me so the water splashes somewhere else. On Jack, to be exact.

Even though he quickly presses his palm to the mouth of the bottle, half of the contents are already soaking his t-shirt. Drawing up my shoulders in a shrug, I give him a sheepish smile. “Oops…”

“Oops?” His eyebrows arch, daring me to come up with a better excuse for dousing him when I could have watered an entire clearing.

I have none, other than it was fun. “Yeah…oops.”

Jack takes the bottle out of my hand and tosses it aside, rising like the magic beanstalk above me as his dumbfounded expression turns into a wicked sneer. “I’ll give you oops!”

This time, there’s no chance for me to dash away because he pulls me up so fast, the momentum makes me fall over his shoulder as he quickly bends. “Jack!” A hysterical shriek leaves me. The only things I see are his heels and calves as he strides over to the mill. And then the forest disappears as we’re ascending some stairs in the dark. “Jack, what are you doing?”

The farther up we go, the brighter it gets inside the small, old building. The roof hatch must be open. “Let’s see if this robin can fly,” he answers with a smirk in his voice.

“What? You wouldn’t—”

“Oh, you bet, I so would.”

One second later, I’m airborne and screaming my lungs out. Rowing my arms and legs doesn’t help. I plummet backward off the top of the mill, Jack’s grin the only thing I can focus on from where he stands in the open port.

With a poof, I land on a soft surface that flattens under my weight. Grain dust rises all around me.

“Didn’t you say you love jumping into haystacks?” his amused voice drifts down to me through the thick, yellow pall.

“Not like that, you maniac!” I shout, still freaked out from the drop but now also laughing.

Arms spread-eagle, Jack dives off the port. “Move!”

I have just enough time to roll to the side before he flattens me. His landing whirls up another cloud of grain dust. Waving it aside with both of my arms, I search for his face through the mist. A grin sits lazily on his lips as we lock gazes, and I start laughing again. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re off the wall?”

Jack waggles his eyebrows. “Again?”

The man is simply unbelievable! I stare at him for a couple of seconds longer. Then my gaze slides to the roof hatch, and I roll off the haystack. Dashing to the mill’s front door, I holler over my shoulder, “Last one up is an ogre fart.”

Halfway up the stairs, I can feel him breathing down my neck.

 

*

 

The sun touches the treetops in a late-afternoon caress as Jack and I carry each and every pillow I own from my house to the place in the woods where we spent most of the day. The giant crate leaning against an oak tree for now just waits to be used. Jack suggested building a nest of hay for the prince since there was obviously enough of it behind the mill, but that wasn’t what I had in mind. Instead, I made him come home with me to play drudge once more.

We arrange the pillows in a nice bed on the ground and line them with a couple of cuddly, red blankets. It’s the perfect invitation for a prince, tired from a long journey.

“Now what?” Jack demands as we both stand in front of the makeshift bed, hands propped on our hips, admiring our work. “Want to put up a sign: Prince bed this way?”

“No.” I contradict with the same humor in my voice and stick out my tongue at him. Now comes the bait. I run and pluck some strawberries from a nearby bush. Carrying them back in my cupped hands, I place them in the center of the bed.

Jack cocks his head. “You think you can lure him in with berries?”

“Yeah…I actually thought of trying apples, but then I heard they only work with wolves.” I wink, unable to resist teasing him about our stroll through the forest yesterday when he wasn’t quite himself. The growl he emits is obviously fake. He doesn’t scare me. Not when his eyes sparkle with amusement, and certainly not when a fall from the mill roof is the worst that could happen to me again. A giggle rocks me. “Or do you like strawberries, too, puppy dog?” I grab one from the pile, haul my hand back, and then toss the berry past his left ear and into the bushes. “Go fetch!”

Jack stands rigid, the mischief in his eyes growing as he dips his chin and snarls. Next thing I know, I’m lifted off my feet as he leaps at me, and we both land in the soft nest of pillows behind me. Squealing, I try to roll away from under him, but he keeps me in a tight embrace and lowers his mouth to my ear. “Got you.”

A warm shiver whizzes through me at his gentle breath against my skin. My laugh ceases, my body going still. With one arm still around me, Jack skims the fingertips of his other hand across my cheek. “No escaping…”

Only my gaze slides to his face, and I bite my bottom lip, suddenly feeling nervous. The birds and rodents must feel it, too, because the forest goes silent around us.

Rays of a golden sunset beam through the trees, lighting Jack’s dark eyes as he smiles. This is weird…him so close. I have never been held by a man. Not for so long…not so tenderly. It’s pleasant on a strange level. And it makes my heart pound dramatically fast.

My hands flattened against his chest, I return the smile because it feels natural to do so. Thoughts run wild in my mind. The first comes out in a shy whisper. “You sure are the craziest Wolf of your kind, Jack.”

“You like crazy, Red Riding Hood,” he whispers back, lowering his head to mine. His warm breath strokes across my mouth just before his lips do. It was barely a real touch, yet my body trembles from it.

Jack remains motionless and looks at me from inches away. I’d always thought touching his face would feel like getting up close and personal with a cactus because of the raggedy three-day beard he sports. Surprisingly, it doesn’t. To be honest, his lips, when they brushed against mine, reminded me of a velvet raspberry. With a will of its own, my hand moves up to his mouth, my fingers lightly running across his bottom lip. “I like raspberries,” the first thought slips again.

His brows furrowing in confusion, he laughs quietly. “Do you?”

I nod. And part of me wants to touch his raspberry lips again. Maybe Jack wants it, too, because he laces our fingers as he moves our hands back to the pillow-bed beneath me, and then his gaze falls to my mouth. I close my eyes.

My heart does funny things in my chest again. Dancing, maybe skipping, I don’t really know. Then a thunderous crack sounds, making me wince in Jack’s arms. That was not from my heart. He jerks, too, and my eyes shoot open just in time to see a monstrous birch tumbling down. A shriek escapes me. Too late to run, I throw my arms over my head for protection and accidentally punch Jack in the chin in the process. He yips in pain, and I immediately feel sorry for doing that right before we die.

As if by a miracle, the deadly strike from the tree never comes. It misses our camp by a foot. Still in shock, I jump to my feet, dragging Jack with me. Breathing hard, I scan around to find out why trees were suddenly falling in the Wood of 1000 Dawns.

Turns out, a beaver chomped it. He’s now struggling to tug the birch into the water.

“Ow.” Jack rubs his jaw. “Were you trying to knock my fangs out?”

“Sorry.” I cast him a sheepish glance, pleading for forgiveness. “I thought the tree was going to kill us.”

Jack glares at the birch jerkily moving past us, and then he raises a provocative eyebrow at me. “Hardly.”

Okay, maybe the tree wasn’t that monstrous. More like a seven-foot stick with barely any branches worthy of mention. When pulled out of my moment with Jack, it did look scary, though.

And now I wonder if it was fortune that made the rodent choose to fell that particular tree next to us. If it hadn’t, Jack might have stolen my first real kiss. Or…I would have given it to him.

Oh, the horror of that!

After all the hard work I put into finding a prince, that could have ruined everything. To really change my ever after and, consequently, the story, my first kiss has to be one of true love. It can’t be wasted in a careless moment with a Wolf.

Feeling the heat of shame surging to my cheeks, I avoid his gaze and walk to the crate still leaning against the oak. “We should move this in place before it gets too dark.”

Jack comes without another word and helps me drag the lathed box over to the pillow camp. While he holds one side up, I jam a branch as thick as my arm underneath it. Testing if the construction is windproof, he shakes it a little. After his approving nod, I tie one end of the rope to the stick and carefully lay out the rest on the ground, making sure it’s covered by moss. Then we hide in the bushes.

“And what do we do now?” Jack hisses as we both lower to the ground.

Lying on my front, I brace myself on my elbows. The rope end tightly in my hand, I focus on the prince trap ahead. “Now, we wait.”

Time ticks by.

The sun disappears, and somewhere in the forest, an owl starts to hoot a jolly good evening to the bright moon above. The first half hour, Jack lay dutifully beside me, keeping an eye on the latch bolt with me. But over the past few minutes, he’s become fidgety. “I don’t think this monstrosity is really going to work.”

I place an annoyed finger in front of my lips. “Shh.”

“Oh, come on, Riley.” He stands, flexing his shoulders and spine. A funny string of cracks sounds out. “You can’t hang out here the entire night.”

Jaw set, I tilt up my head to him. “Watch me.”

“You will freeze to death.”

He has a point. A cold breeze picked up some time ago. It might get a little chilly tonight. But that wouldn’t stop me. “I’m tough.”

“You’re wolf meal.”

“You’re the only Wolf out here, and I don’t think you’re going to eat me.”

“Fine. Then bears.”

Actually touched by his concern, I send him a soft smile. “If you’re so worried about me, then stay.”

He glares at me for several long seconds. “No way. If this is your idea of a thrilling night, count me out.” He stomps away but, after a couple of steps, he stops. Curiously, I wait to see what sort of excuse he’ll find next to try and make me go home.

Swiveling around, Jack rubs his hands over his face and grunts at the moon. I guess I frustrate him more than fleas in his pants, but what else can I do? The trap won’t snap over the prince on its own. Someone needs to sit this out, at the ready to pull the cord at the right moment.

“One hour!” Jack growls and spears me with a toxic look as he lowers back to my side. “If your prince doesn’t show up in that time, we’re going home. That means you, too! No further discussion. Do I make myself clear?”

“Perfectly clear.” Scooting to the side to make room for him, I crack a smile because his suggestion sounds fair, and I like his company. Hanging out with a Wolf is better than getting eaten by a bear.

We remain on silent watch again. For a long time… And no prince comes by on his noble steed. Instead, the wind picks up speed, freeing leaves from the trees and bushes around me. I don’t know if the hour is over because neither Jack nor I have a watch, but when the sky breaks with rolling thunder, I know he wants to go home. Moments later, the first raindrop lands on my nose. I wipe it away, my gaze still focused on the trap, but more drops follow, and they fall even faster.

As Jack finds shelter under a nearby weeping willow, I refuse to abandon ship. Just a few more minutes. I’m sure my prince will come.

The cold from the ground seeps through my dress and into my bones. Soon, my cloak is soaked with rain, too. I start to shiver.

“Riley…?” Stiff from iciness, I can barely make myself turn in the direction of Jack’s soft voice. His hand appears in front of my face, obviously waiting for me to grab it. “Come on. It’s time to get you out of the rain.”

A melancholy sigh escapes me as I tie the end of the rope to the root of a tree bridging out of the ground. Then I reach for Jack’s hand. Gently, he helps me up and nods toward the path leading to Glitter Hollow. The idea of a cup of hot chocolate in front of a crackling fire holds unarguable appeal.

I pull up my hood and tug it down my forehead. Jack doesn’t have a hood or even a jacket because he only wore his t-shirt when we met that morning. He ducks his head as we both run all the way to my house through the moonlit forest.

He stops in front of the stairs leading up to my porch, while I scurry under the awning to escape the rain. A tender goodbye looms in his gaze. “See you tomorrow.”

I nod. It’s so sweet that he wanted to make sure I got home safely before heading on to his own apartment.

But it’s a long way to Grimwich, and the rain is coming down in sheets now. His clothes are already drenched, as are mine. He shouldn’t be walking miles through the storm tonight. So when he turns around to leave, I suck in a quick breath and insecurely call out, “Jack?”

He halts, rain dripping from his eyelashes as he looks at me over his shoulder.

“I’m going to make hot chocolate.” I shrug and press my lips together, expelling a helpless breath through my nose. “Would you like some?”

Three seconds pass. Eventually, the corners of his mouth slowly lift into a lovely smile. Mine follow suit. He comes up the few steps onto the porch, towering half a foot over me and once again standing close. Then he puts an arm around my shoulders, and together, we walk inside.