Hidden in the Heartwood {sapphic paranormal}

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

22. || common man.

Rolling amber and umber mountains surrounded River and the woman as they rowed to the middle of the reservoir. Autumn's crisp peak colors still clung to this side of the ridge, warming the belly of the valley, but fingers of winter's grays had begun to creep over the hills. Even the rich evergreens had faded to a smoked verdant.

The smell of rain filled the air, heavy and humid, but River took their time. Though the woman had wanted to return to the hollow, she hadn't seemed to mind the scenic detour. Perhaps just glad for the distance from Devil's Elbow and whatever had occurred at its boundary between her and the hemlocks and the Demon. Fog still sunk low against the surface of the water and she leaned over the edge of the boat, trailing her hand through it.

"Ya know, those dainty little fingers probably look mighty enticing to a snapper from below," River snickered. "But some turtle soup sure sounds good, don't it?"

The woman flicked her wrist their way, sending a spray of cold water down their shoulder with a smile. River let go of the oars and shook out their arm, returning her playful grin with one of their own. Sliding their suspenders down, they tugged their shirt up over their head and flung it to her lap.

"Was gettin' a bit balmy anyways," they chuckled, retucking their undershirt.

Her smile softened as her eyes traced over them, a little slower than before to look away. She ran her hand through her dark hair, letting it spill down her shoulders in waves and glanced back at the golden ridge. "It's funny how beautiful autumn is as everything's dying."

River hummed in agreement, but they weren't really looking at the trees. "Autumn's lovely sure, though I'm quite partial to spring myself. Watchin' the buds on the trees grow red, blossoms pink up and bloom, everything goes green and ferns start unfurling. There's nothin' like the rebirth of spring after winter's stark loneliness."

The woman looked down at their shirt in her lap and began to fold it, pressing it smooth. "Maybe winter won't be so bad this year."

"Maybe not..." They couldn't quite catch her eyes, but some kinda understanding passed between them. "So it's uh, supposed to storm tonight, but if tomorrow ain't too bad, we should hook some solar panels up for ya, enough for your basics at least. I got plenty extras."

"You don't have to do all that, River. Once we pawn that diamond off, I'll just have the electric turned on."

"You got some kinda ID on ya?" The woman's face dropped as she bit her lip. "Even if ya did, I don't think ya want anything in your name—everwhat that may be." River nudged her knee with their own, trying to tease her outta her head before she sunk in too deep again. "You gonna at least gimme your stage name from Busty's at some point?"

"Not a chance." She managed to laugh a little, but worry still wrinkled her brows. "Besides, I like you calling me Boots."

"Well, then," River lifted a scrap wooden board from the floor of the boat to lay from their seat to hers as a makeshift table, "Boots it is." They twisted around to grab the cooler from the bow and then started to spread out the assortment of smoked sausages, goat cheese, crackers, and pepper jams. Sinking their teeth into a shiny red apple, they smiled. "Let's eat."

And there they floated and ate and spoke about normal things because out in the middle of the reservoir it was a little easier to forget the confines of the mountain, especially when River could just listen to Boots talk all day about her travels, her taking pictures and trying new foods from all sorts of cultures they'd never even heard of. But there was moments she'd get all ate up with silence and River knew that as far as she'd been and as much as she'd seen, she'd still been trapped in her own hell hollow, rooted to her own violent end of the curse, hardly no different than them.