The Witch And The Werewolf

“That big monster truck?” Mireio gulped.

“I’ll help you move the seat forward so you can reach the pedals.”

“Do you trust me?”

He pressed his head against the baby’s head and kissed his nose. And Mireio suddenly realized that the man probably trusted her more with the vehicle than he did with his child.

“Hand me the keys. I can do this.”

* * *

The path through the woods had been there for decades. Lars knew that the very first pack members had built the compound and the cabin where he lived. He liked having his own place and had lived there alone since he was fourteen. But also, when the pack had been larger, he’d liked being close to friends, whom he also considered family. Now, it was nice for the two-mile distance between the places because babysitting was just a wander through the woods.

Sunday had been the one to suggest he get away from the cabin and go out and have a little fun. Lars had been cooped up with Peanut for months and generally walked around with baby spit on his shoulders, and who knew when he’d last washed his hair?

Yet in the process of “getting out” he’d hooked up with a pretty woman.

“I sure hope she likes us both,” he said as he strode the beaten path over fallen leaves, cracking branches and crops of mushrooms that edged the lane. “What do you think, Peanut?”

The boy was awake and alert, taking in the surroundings, even though it was dark. Lars pressed a kiss to his bushy crop of thick hair. He loved that stuff. It was soft and black and smelled like nothing he’d ever known but everything he wanted to have forever.

Had he done things wrong tonight? Should he have kept Peanut a secret until he felt sure that he and Mireio might have a real thing between them?

No, better to give her opportunity to run now before they did get to know one another. And better for him. He’d hate to fall in love with her and then lose her because he had a baby. Much as she had claimed to enjoy babies, being a parent was different. It required dedication and sacrifice. And love.

Lars had never been in love. Until now. He hugged Peanut and strode swiftly toward the truck lights that approached his cabin.

He arrived at the truck in time to help Mireio down and tell her how to turn the lights off. The truck really was a monster in her hands, but she’d gotten here safely.

“Whew!” she said when she stood on the ground beside him. “That thing is huge and the road is narrow and winding. I think I just passed some kind of endurance test! Hey! Don’t laugh at me, you little giggle butt,” she said to Peanut.

Lars high-fived her and nodded that she should follow him in. “The road is crazy twisty. I’ve considered getting a smaller truck, but I haul a lot of wood and well...” He opened the front door, which he never kept locked and gestured she enter before him. “I do like a big truck.”

“Men and their toys.” Her heels clicked across the clean wood floor. “Wow, this place is cute. It’s all just the one room?”

She turned, taking in the living area with the blue-and-green-plaid couch and low table made from half an oak trunk. The kitchen offered a small fridge, a porcelain sink and an old gas stove. A round kitchen table sat at the end of the foyer, which was right before them. Immediately to their right stood the queen-size bed hemmed in by a clothes rack against a wall. Peanut’s crib was wedged between the clothes and the end of the bed.

“This is it.” Lars grabbed a diaper from a shelf above the clothes rack and laid Peanut on the bed. “I gotta change him. I hope you don’t mind. There’s beer and water in the fridge.”

“Sure. Looks like he’s wide-awake now,” she said as she rummaged around in the fridge.

“Peanut loves walking through the woods. Don’t you?” He toyed with the baby’s bare toes as the infant stretched out his legs. He always did that once diaper-free. Like, oh, yes, Daddy, let me dry out and be a nudist for a while. “Soon you’ll be running through the woods and putting your daddy through the wringer of keeping up with you.”

“What is his name?” Mireio asked as she sat before the kitchen table with a bottle of water.

“Peanut.” He secured the diaper tapes and replaced his son’s onesie snaps. He tossed the diaper into the bin, which he emptied every night, and then got a bottle of milk he’d poured this morning from the fridge. He set it in the pot on the stove half-filled with water and turned on the heat. It took only minutes to get a nice warmth to the milk.

“You named your son Peanut?” He could sense the dismay in her tone. “That’s...unique.”

Lars sat next to her before the table. “I don’t know his real name. His mother didn’t tell me it before she ran off. And the name on the birth certificate simply says ‘baby boy.’ I thought he sort of melded against me like a little peanut when I held him against my chest, so...it works for now.”

“Peanut. Sure. But you are going to give him a name?”

Lars shrugged. “When the right one comes to me. I have up to a year to fill it in on the birth certificate.”

“Sounds fair enough. Oh, don’t get up. I’ll check the milk.” She tested the milk against her wrist, then sat down and handed it to him. “Cool, but just about right. So...do I get to ask you about Peanut’s mom and where she is and why you’re doing the single-daddy thing? Oh. Did she die?”

“No, she’s not dead, and yes, ask me anything you like.”

Because that meant she was open to the conversation, and maybe he might still have a chance with her.

“I want to know whatever you’re comfortable telling me.” She pointed to the baby sucking voraciously at the bottle. “Explain that little bundle of sweetness and wild rock-star hair.”

She hadn’t made an excuse to leave yet. And she wasn’t standing by the door, eyeing the escape. So Lars marked himself as lucky. So far, so good.

“All right, here goes. I spent a few nights with Peanut’s mom last year. It was a two-night stand kind of thing. We met in a nightclub in downtown Minneapolis. We weren’t drunk, but you know how sometimes you just want to get close with another person?”

She nodded knowingly. “Oh, yeah.”

“And the feeling was mutual,” he continued. “So, you know, it happened. She stayed the day and a second night, then told me it had been fun, and she was moving on. She traveled a lot for her job as a photojournalist. Was hoping to get an assignment in Africa that would last for years. I marked it off as a fun couple of nights and life went on. Human women, you know...”

He shifted to tilt up Peanut a bit so the baby wouldn’t get gassy from sucking in air from the bottle.

“What about human women?” Mireio asked.

“It’s hard for we werewolves to have a relationship with someone who is going to freak out the minute she sees you shift. We can’t trust that secret with just anyone.”

“You can trust a witch.”

“I know that.” He winked at her and she smiled and wiggled on her chair. “Ten months after that hookup I get a knock on the door and the surprise of my life. She didn’t want a baby. Didn’t need one messing up her life. And she got the African assignment. So she said it was my choice. She could put the baby up for adoption, or I could take him.”

Mireio’s jaw dropped open. Then she closed it. “Wow. Tough choice for a young, single man.”

“Not really. I took one look at this little peanut and knew I had to have him in my life.”

“Really? Have you always liked kids? Babies? Usually men aren’t so paternal.”

“I have never been around kids much. Never even held a baby before this guy.”

“How did you even trust that he was yours?”

“She does ask the questions, doesn’t she?” Lars said to Peanut. “I just knew. But also, his mom said I should get a DNA test, and she even had the forms and details on how to do it, along with all the info she’d written down for Peanut’s feeding schedule. She was an orderly woman. And she said she knew he was mine because she hadn’t had sex with a guy after me for months.”

“Did you do the test?”

“I did. Peanut is one hundred percent mine. But I knew that before I got the test results.”

“How did you know?”

He beamed at her. “My heart told me he was mine. But also, could you imagine putting this little sweetie up for adoption?”

“He is a sweetie. But he might have made some other family happy too. Adoption isn’t horrible.”

“I know that.”

“Oh, but wait. Is he werewolf?”

Lars shrugged. “Not sure. His mom is human, but human women can give birth to our babies, and they can be werewolf. But I won’t know until Peanut hits puberty. Another good reason not to put him up for adoption. Could you imagine human parents discovering their adopted son, once he hits puberty, suddenly shifts to a wolf?”

“So his mom didn’t know you were werewolf?”

“No need for me to tell her. You know it’s not wise to share stuff like that with humans. How many people do you tell you’re a witch?”

“Zero. Unless I get a feeling about them. Like you. Aw, look, he’s sleeping. Sweet little Peanut. You really should give him a name, though.”

“I’m working on it. I have to go to the county office and do a name change. I’m already on the birth certificate as the father. Peanut’s mom had the foresight to do that, so he’s got my last name.”

“That was smart. Oh. Can I hold him?”

“Uh...” Lars set the bottle on the table and studied her pleading yet smiling look. When he’d walked in at Dean’s place to find her holding Peanut, he’d initially felt angry. What right had she to barge in and take hold of his child? But then he’d realized she hadn’t even known who the baby was then.

Now? He was being foolish. Possessive. And with every right to be so.

“Oh, sorry.” She sat back. “You’re his daddy. I’m sure he needs you to tuck him in.”

“He sleeps through most of the night after his final bottle. I’ll put him down.”

Once he’d tucked Peanut in, and left him uncovered because it was warm tonight, Lars then rinsed the bottle and dried it while Mireio got up to admire the lamp base on the table beside the couch.

“This is beautiful,” she said of the carved pine column. “It’s so intricate. I can see deer and squirrels and that looks like a swan. Did you do this?”

Lars shrugged and nodded. “There’s a lot of wood out here. Sometimes I see something in the wood that needs to come out.”

“Like Michelangelo and his marble sculptures. You’re an artist.”

“No, I’m just a regular guy who amuses himself with a hammer and chisel once in a while.” He set the bottle on the rack above the sink and then approached her. He shoved his hands in his back pockets. “So, I know this is a lot of baggage I’ve unpacked here. And I’ll understand if you don’t want to see me anymore. I wasn’t even in the market for dating, but then Sunday said I needed to get out, have some fun. And after that morning at your place, there were the lilacs. It was almost like I had to find you. Then I did. I think it’s better you know right away.”

“Lars, don’t worry. There are a lot of single parents nowadays. And we’re not serious. Just having fun, right?”

“Right.”

“Oh, and if Sunday can’t babysit, call me. I adore babies. Would love to have a couple, or twelve, of my own someday.”

“I’ll remember that.” He sat on the couch and she sat next to him, which he took as a good sign that she didn’t want to leave right away.

“That is, if you can trust me with Peanut. I have babysat a lot.”

“Oh, I trust you.”

“Yeah? But you didn’t want me to hold him just now at the table.”

“Sorry. He’s my boy and...well, you’re new.”

“I get it.” She clasped his hand. “You’re a protective alpha wolf. Do not apologize for that. Ever. Now. I want to see this strange but interesting bathroom. Can we slip out with Peanut sleeping?”

“Yep. I’ve got a baby monitor in the bathroom so I can hear him if I’m taking a shower. But I promise you, it’s nothing to get excited about.”

“Any outhouse that isn’t two holes in a slab of wood is exciting.”

* * *

Through the crisp darkness, surrounded by cricket chatter, they followed a plank path back to the outhouse. The bathroom was indeed a small room with a toilet, shower and tub, and vanity. Plain but serviceable. But Mireio decided it would be a bitch in the winter if a person woke in the middle of the night needing to answer the call of nature.

“No holes dug in the ground,” Lars offered as they stepped out into the night air.

He pointed out the wildflower field that backed onto his property behind the outhouse and the beehives he kept. He had eight stacks right now and would divide them in the fall and probably gain three more in the process. He’d promised to take some of Valor’s bees when she divided the hives that she tended from the rooftop of her apartment building in Tangle Lake.

“So you’re a keeper,” Mireio commented, loving herself for the pun.

“I am? Oh. Uh, yes. A beekeeper.”

She felt sure he blushed in the darkness. The man certainly was a keeper.

After the grand tour, Mireio suggested they call it a night. She’d felt bad he’d had to take Peanut out of his crib, but the infant had slept through being buckled into his car seat and the twenty-minute drive back to Anoka, and even her accidental slamming of the truck door when she got out at the sidewalk before her house.

“Can I call you?” Lars asked as he stepped down from the sidewalk to stand on the tarmac, which put their heights a little closer.

“I certainly hope so. Hey, how about an afternoon with Peanut tomorrow? I have to go in to work for a few hours in the morning. Valor and I are kegging the stout. But I’m free after one. We could go to a park and have a picnic?”

“I’d like that. You sure you’re okay with this, Mireio?”

She shrugged. “I am right now. If I think about it awhile? Who knows? But I don’t think I’ll change my mind. I’m enjoying getting to know you. You are certainly an interesting man.”

“Maybe a little too interesting, eh?”

“Better that than dull, right?” She laughed, but stopped abruptly. “So tomorrow it’s a date.”

“Should I pick you up at the brewery?”

“Yes.” She tilted up on her tiptoes to meet the kiss that he did not pause to give her this time. His breath tasted like the wine they’d shared over supper, and his beard brushed her cheek softly. And when she started to pull away he dipped in for a firm press that won her completely. She sighed into the kiss and drew her fingers down the ends of his long hair. Mmm, he was some kind of all right. “I do enjoy these not-so-shy kisses.”

“Me too. I would kiss you longer but...” He glanced over to the running truck.

“I’m glad you told me about Peanut. You two are adorable together. We’re going to have fun, the three of us.”

Lars turned and waved as he got in the truck. And Mireio hugged herself and recalled that the man had given her a choice to walk away now if she wanted to.

Did she want to walk away? Could she handle dating a man with a baby? Neither option felt easy. And she needed easy right now. Because that would counter the nightmares and her wariness over performing the immortality spell.

Chapter 6

Areas of the park were overgrown with wildflowers stretching as high as Lar’s waist in some spots. They’d picnicked with egg salad sandwiches, fresh veggies and blueberry lemonade in mason jars. While Mireio packed up the basket, Lars wandered into the flowers with Peanut, pointing out the yellow sunflowers. He held out his hand and a bee buzzed closer, probably attracted to his movement. He never flinched. Bees would not sting a person unless they were given reason to do so. And he intended to teach Peanut to not fear the insect, and to also respect it.

“That’s a dragonfly.” He stood still as the insect hovered but four feet from him. Strapped to his chest in a baby sling, Peanut stretched out his arms and cooed. “Yes, you like bugs? Of course you do. But you mustn’t squish them. Insects are good. Especially the bees. Like that one. See the fat sacks of pollen on her legs? She’s going to make honey with that. And then we can eat it.”

Though he’d read not to give an infant honey in his first year. Or had the pediatrician told him that? He needed to get a guide or book on all the things a parent should do and watch out for. This whole baby thing was new to him. He was walking a tightrope with Peanut, and didn’t want to wobble off the line.

“We’ll find a book or something,” he said to Peanut.

“A book on what?” Having taken off her shoes, Mireio joined him. A camera dangled from around her neck. She took some shots of a bright purple coneflower. Bending, she plucked a few tiny white daisies.

“A baby book,” he said. “I need something that’ll tell me what I should and shouldn’t do. I was telling Peanut about honey. I know that’s a no-no for the first year.”

“Right. There are great books out there for parents. Dr. Sears or the What to Expect books. They cover a baby’s first year, telling you what changes they go through monthly and about their growth.”

“Sounds like exactly what I need. Can we stop by a bookstore on the way back into town?”

“For sure! But only if you don’t mind me checking out the books on beer. I’m looking for a new and interesting recipe.”

“Deal.” He turned and fist-bumped her. “You a photographer too?”

“Me? No. But I like to take pictures of flowers and bugs. I have a macro lenses that I usually use. Takes amazingly detailed shots, but I forgot it today. I do have one of my pictures hanging up behind my bed.”

“I’ll have to check it out sometime.” Lars wandered forward then, with a wince, realized what he’d said. Check out the picture or her bed?

Well, he’d like to do both. In good time.

Spying a thick crop of wild grass, he sat on it and laid back with Peanut snuggling up to his chest. “Ah, this is the life. The sun is high and warm and I don’t have a care.”

Mireio leaned over him and snapped a few pictures. “Do you mind? You two look adorable lying there. He really is a little peanut all curled up on his daddy’s chest.”

“Go for it.”

“Oh, wait. I forgot the daisies.” She pushed a couple daisies into his beard. “I did tell you I’d have you in daisies, didn’t I?”

“That you did.” He even managed to smile, eyes closed against the sun, as she snapped the camera above him and Peanut.

After a few shots, she sat in the grass next to them and set down the camera. Tilting her head back to allow the sun to beam across her face, her hair tickled Lars’s cheek. It was the color of overripe tomatoes, with a hint of golden sunshine within the strands. If her hair had a flavor, he decided it would be tangy cherry with a burst of lemon.

How had he gotten so lucky as to find a pretty girl who liked to spend time with him and his baby boy? While Dean Maverick had teasingly suggested that babies were chick bait, Lars had known that it wouldn’t be so simple as strolling in to catch a woman’s eye for more than a few oohs and aahs. But for some reason Mireio had stuck around after the initial reveal. So far.

He wouldn’t count his blessings too soon. This thing they were doing was new and, as she’d pointed out, they were just having fun. So he had best stop worrying and get to the enjoying part.

“How about ice cream?” he suddenly said. “I don’t think I’ve had any since I was a kid.”

“Seriously?” Her blue eyes beamed above him. “There’s a shop not far from here. And I’m pretty sure a bookstore sits a couple stores down from that. What do you think, Peanut?” She stroked his fuzzy crop of dark hair. “Aw, he’s sleeping. All tuckered out from the sunshine. We’d better get him inside so he doesn’t overheat.”

“Overheat? Do babies do that?”

“Well, he’s not going to blow his top, but yes, his tender newborn skin will burn much easier than ours does.”

“Darn it, and here I thought the sunshine was good for him.” Lars sat up and tugged the blanket over Peanut’s head.

“Don’t worry about it. He’s not going to fry. Lars, you’re a great dad. You’ve some amazing instincts about taking care of a baby. Don’t question yourself so much.”

“It’s hard not to do so. I’ve never done this before. Sometimes I feel like I’m a little bug standing in the middle of this big field, trying to keep my baby bug alive.”

“You’re doing great.” She kissed him then. A soft, slow kiss that tasted his mouth and dipped her tongue across his bottom lip. It was a sweet connection that promised more. When she pulled away, she plucked the flowers from his beard and tucked them into her hair over one ear. “Let’s get ice cream.”

* * *

When they stopped by the bookstore, Peanut was fussing, so Lars stayed in the truck to change him while Mireio dashed in for the baby book and then skipped a few stores down to grab ice cream to go. They headed to her house, and by the time they arrived, Peanut was giggling and blowing bubbles every time she shook her bright hair before him.

“You must have grown up with brothers and sisters,” Lars commented as they strolled into her house.

“Nope. I was an only child. I started babysitting when I was ten. Every penny I made went toward spell stuff and crystals. And a really cool mermaid tail that I still have tucked away somewhere.”

“A mermaid tail?” He dropped Peanut’s bag of accoutrements on the floor near the sofa.

“Yes, it was rubber or something. I could pull it up like pants and there was room in the fin for my feet. It sparkled,” she said, adding jazz hands because that was what one did when one talked about all things glittery. “I’d swim out in the backyard pool for hours wearing it. But it only fit me for about a year. I was so bummed. I think I expected it to grow with me. So you are going to stay for supper, yes? I make a mean zucchini parmesan.”

“I’m not even sure what that is, but I’m in.”

“Great! Let me get it put together. It’ll take about twenty minutes, and then I’ll pop it in the oven.”

“Me and Peanut will take a look through the book you got for us.”

He headed into the living room. Mireio called out that he could take the yarn afghan off the back of the couch and lay it on the floor for Peanut to crawl around on. “Will do!”

Utterly pleased after an afternoon well spent, she floated about the kitchen, gathering and slicing zucchini and onions, grating parmesan, while on the stove top she stirred a tomato sauce with basil and shallots.

Around the corner in the living room she heard Lars reading the What to Expect the First Year book out loud. In a very dramatic tone. She peeked around the corner and spied the big werewolf lying on the violet-and-blue afghan on his back—he held the book overhead while he pointed out the pictures to Peanut. The baby, lying on his back beside his daddy, followed his gestures with burbling fascination.

“Did you know a four-month-old is supposed to get his first tooth?” Lars called as she slipped back into the kitchen. “Peanut has had a tooth for two months. Heh. You’re ahead of your time, my boy. Also, he might start to roll over. Is that so? You want to give it a go, Peanut?”

Whispering thanks to Demeter, the goddess of harvest, and snapping her fingers over the sauce, Mireio imbued it with a touch of love and confidence. It was difficult not to create something to eat without adding a spell. She’d been doing it forever. Nothing intrusive. But Lars could probably use the boost to his confidence. Goddess knows he must have been going through heck these past few months. But to judge from the infant giggles in the next room he was managing remarkably well.

Peanut, eh? That was a horrible name for a child to grow up with. She’d have to work on Lars, help him come up with something before the kid got too attached to the name.

Assembling the dish with layers of zucchini, cheese and sauce, she then put the glass baking dish in the stove and set the timer. Pouring two goblets of honey IPA from the growler she always kept stocked in the fridge, she then strolled into the living room.