Page 22 of Finding His Fox

Josie, Rory's wife, appeared and started clearing the dishes. I decided to lend a hand while waiting for Nate to finish showering and dressing.

"I can manage, Cal," Josie said, flashing me a warm smile.

Josie was one of the most genuine people I had ever met, even for a human. She had been instrumental in arranging our breakfast in the yard.

"I insist," I replied, grateful for her assistance.

In the kitchen, Rory caught up with me. Although he knew what I was, he bravely shot me a warning look.

I didn't need to be a mindreader to sense Rory's protective nature toward Nate. He seemed more like an older brother than a cousin to him.

"Take it easy on Nate. He's been through a lot," Rory told me.

Nate appeared by the kitchen doorway, interrupting our conversation. Max circled around his legs, and I couldn't help but sneeze. Nate picked up his cat and gave him a gentle kiss on the head.

I couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy. A kiss from Nate wouldn't be unwelcome either.

I scoffed, finding it ridiculous that I would feel envious of a cat. Yet, Max seemed to give me a smug look when Nate set him down.

"Sorry, Max. It's better if you stay with Rory and Josie," Nate told his feline companion.

Max simply licked his paw and darted away. I had a feeling Nate chose not to bring Max along due to my allergies.

It was a thoughtful gesture on his part, I concluded.

After bidding Rory and Josie goodbye, we made our way to Nate's old family home.

I gazed at the dilapidated farmhouse-style house that was in dire need of repairs.

In its prime, the house must have exuded rustic charm with its yellow pine wood, cream bricks, wraparound porch, and tall glass windows.

Now, overgrown grass engulfed the property, and vines clung to the side of the building, alongside a towering apple tree.

The air was thick with the scent of decaying roses and apples.

As fox shifters, we were more attuned to the energy of haunted places than other shifter species.

My nose could sense the lingering presence of death and tragedy that had befallen this desolate place.

I recalled reading a news article years ago when I had been digging for information about Nate. Unable to bear the loss of his partner, Nate's remaining father had taken his own life.

Suddenly, Nate's guarded attitude towards Fox Haven became clear. He didn't want to revisit his painful past.

This house undoubtedly held countless painful memories for him, apart from the wendigo attack he likely tried to bury deep within his mind.

Nate was still grappling with the deaths he had experienced.

A part of me felt elated that I now understood Nate on a deeper level, but another part wished I could somehow alleviate his pain.

Nate stood motionless, his body language and heavy breathing indicating his reluctance to enter.

I longed to pull him close, to offer him some form of comfort, but I wasn't his boyfriend.

Heck, I couldn't even classify myself as a friend. A hug might only overwhelm him. Asking if he was alright would be pointless. It was evident that he wasn't.

I decided to keep my mouth shut and waited patiently until he was ready to confront his demons.

Nate took a deep breath, his jaw tightening as he mustered his resolve, and he took his first step towards the porch.