The Edge of Misery: The Mitchel Brothers Series Book Two

16

Growling low in his throat, he picked her up and carried her to the bed, his mouth never leaving hers as he glanced at the door to ensure it was bolted shut before carefully lowering Wren to the mattress and joining her in rapturous bliss.

That afternoon, Declan walked behind Wren as she cautiously maneuvered herself and the crutches to the staircase wearing her green and yellow floral gown at Declan's insistence instead of donning a pair of Dorsey's old trousers.

"Now what?" She murmured upon reaching the first step.

"You carry them, and I'll carry you," he said, scooping her into his arms and conveying her to the bottom, where he set her on her left foot, his hands lingering at her waist until she had the crutches under each arm. "All right, time for more practice."

"Is it, though? Practice," She grumbled, slowly hobbling toward the kitchen. "I'm either gonna get it or fall flat on my face."

"I'll catch you before you fall."

"Not if you're out chorin'."

Declan grunted.

Finally, after what seemed like eons later, Wren reached the kitchen and found Eldon at the table with Mae bent over a piece of paper, holding a pencil in his right hand, with several other papers scattered across the scarred surface each one bearing images ranging from poorly drawn depictions of what Wren thought might be a dog to expert illustrations of different people on the ranch.

"Mae's learnin' me to draw, Wren," Eldon beamed, glancing up from his paper.

"Teachin'," Wren corrected, "she's teachin' you to draw."

Eldon nodded, "That's what I said."

Declan chuckled from behind, "Close enough."

Then doing a double-take, Eldon watched Wren's snail-like approach with wide-eyed wonder, "Whatcha got there helpin' ya walk?"

"Crutches," she replied, pausing to adjust her grip before continuing the last few feet. When Declan pulled out a chair for her, she cast an appreciative glance at him and leaned the crutches against the table as she sat with a relieved sigh.

"These are pretty. You draw all of 'em?" She asked with a wink as she leaned forward to peruse the drawings, "or only the one you're workin' on?"

"Mae did those," Eldon said as he bent his head again to his paper, his tongue clamped between his teeth while sketching.

Wren glanced at Mae and smiled as she asked Eldon, "What're you drawin'?"

"Luella."

"I showed him some of mine," Mae grinned, a delicate pink staining her cheeks as she pushed one of the imperfect sketches forward. "I think he's determined to prove he can do better... Animals—well, anything other than people really—have never been my strong suit."

"They're all better than anythin' I could do, includin' the ones of Luella," Wren giggled.

Mae laughed, then glanced at Declan standing behind Wren's chair. "What?"

"I never realized you were so talented," he murmured, pausing before continuing, "Wooly said you were, and with how good he is, I assumed he knew what he was talking about. But these are exceptional, Mae—"

"Save for the ones of Luella," she teased, her blush intensifying. "I only keep them for kindling."

Declan snorted a laugh and walked around the table to take a closer look. "These your morning drawings you two do?"

"Some of them," Mae nodded. "It's been the one thing that's kept me sane—especially on the trail when every morning I woke up sure I was dying—"

"Only to find out you were dealing with the aftermath of the mischief you and Wooly got into while in Independence," Declan teased with a wink as he picked up a sketch with a resemblance to the one of Wren from the brief glimpse she caught and her heart skipped a beat. However, when he set it back on the table, she was discouraged to find it was one of Emmaline instead.