Page 47 of Finding His Fox

We barely even watched the movie.

This was pretty nice. For the first time since I could remember, I thought about the possibility of staying here in Fox Haven.

Definitely not forever. I wasn’t ready for that yet.

Whoa. Yet?

If I was completely honest, I was almost done with the pictures I needed for Max’s calendar. Cal did his job a little too well.

However, maybe I could extend my stay here, get some back-up pictures? Make another calendar or some other merchandise, like T-shirts or mugs.

Cal and I would go about our usual routine, or maybe not. We could take morning walks by the woods near his cabin. Maybe fish in the afternoons.

In that instant, I knew that if Cal asked me to stay here for him, I would say yes. In a heartbeat. That scared me less than I thought it would.

On a more realistic scenario, I imagined myself possibly having some kind of long-distance relationship with Cal.

I could come visit more often, stay here just a little bit longer. Rory and Josie would like that. I knew Ian would, too.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. Without even looking at the screen, I knew it was from Cal.

I smiled when I opened his text, eager to see where he would take me tomorrow.

Chapter 14

Cal

I sat at my workbench, with a piece of rough wood clamped down in front of me. After picking up a chisel, I began to carve away at the edges of the wood, creating a smooth surface.

I had finished my latest custom-made order faster than I imagined.

I stole a quick glance at my latest product—a mahogany rocking chair a long-time client had ordered.

Mrs. Morgan had commissioned a similar rocking chair for her husband’s 60th birthday. The elderly couple loved it so much, Mrs. Morgan asked me to build her a twin, to match her husband’s chair.

Instead of the Morgans, I pictured Nate and me seated on matching rocking chairs on my porch. The two of us would have a splendid view of the lake.

I imagined Nate taking a short nap, with Max snoozing on his lap and me leaning over to steal a kiss from his mouth.

It was easy to visualize having a hundred, no. A thousand lazy afternoons like that with Nate. Where the two of us could simply sit in our peaceful bubble while the world passed us by.

Then my cellphone buzzed on the workbench. Abandoning my side-project—a miniature fox sculpture which I intended to sell in bulk at the upcoming town fair—I snatched my phone.

Owen was calling. I answered him right away. Owen didn’t bother with his usual friendly banter. He went straight to the point.

“Cal, I need you to check on a human hiker who phoned the station ten minutes ago. He says he’s lost and there’s some kind of bear after him,” Owen said. “He’s from out of town.”

“Damn tourists,” I grumbled in annoyance.

There were more and more of them lately. I suppose it was good for the town, but these outsiders should know their limits and learn to respect their surroundings.

“Would you please go have a look? I’d like to avoid having another dead body turn up. His name is John R. Matthews. He managed to give me his coordinates. It’s near your cabin,” Owen added.

Hence the reason Owen called me, I thought. If the tourist got lost in another location, Owen would’ve handled the problem himself.

“Fine, tell me where he is,” I said. It would be nice to spread my legs, anyway. I had been in the workshop all afternoon.

Once Owen ended the call, I left my workshop and changed into my hiking boots. I also remembered to grab my jacket and a rifle.