The Forest of Sleepers (Nowhere Book 2)

t e n : b i n o c u l a r s

Marigold Penny found freedom in two things: a forest called Gwydyr and things that went.

Currently, she was working on changing the oil of an old Chevrolet motorcar that one of the elderly ladies from bridge club had brought over.

Usually, Marigold was out of work during the school year, but since her boss had pulled a muscle in his back, some of his tasks fell to her.

The smell of the oil mixed with the heat coming from a nearby generator made her feel alive. It was a difficult feeling to achieve in a town that was otherwise dead.

Once she finished changing the oil, she found that the cap to the valve was cracked.

She swore under her breath. She'd have to go to Allen's to get a new one.

After wiping off her hands and ignoring the grease underneath her fingernails, Marigold unlocked the drawer containing a jar of coins that they used to pay for any parts needed for a job.

It sat beside another jar that was used for Marigold's college fund. She stared at it for a moment longer than usual.

Before they'd found Gwydyr, her future had loomed so near. Now it was like she was looking through the wrong end of a pair of binoculars, where everything that was close was now very far away.

Did she really want to leave Gwydyr in a couple of years? Though Marigold tried not to give into imagination, she wondered what it would be like to spend endless days in the one place she felt like she belonged.

She closed her eyes, ridding herself of the fanciful thinking.

That was insane. All she'd ever dreamed of was going to college and a group of magical trees weren't going to dissuade her from that future.

She grabbed a few nickels from the other jar and put them in her pocket before walking out into the blustery street. It was unusually windy as a cold front moved across the Georgian borders, leaving the sky gray and still.

There weren't many people out and about, even though it was Saturday. Marigold would agree that it was an indoors type of day anyway.

Allen's grocery store also served as the local hardware store and even though the space was small, it usually had what Marigold needed.

Sometimes, however, it had what she didn't need. In this case, Wyatt Best was in stock.

He was looking through the catalog on a stand beside the PVC pipe, his thumb pressed against his chin in concentration.

For a split second, Marigold was going to do what Birdie usually did when she saw people she knew at the store: slowly back away and make a break for it.

Too late.

Wyatt gave her a lopsided smile. "Any idea what a tiller cultivator is?"

"I've heard of a tiller and a cultivator, but not a tiller cultivator."

"Hm. Beats me." Wyatt put away the catalog and put his hands in his pockets. "What's brought you over here? Weren't you working on a car?"

"Oil change," Marigold said and explained that she came for an oil cap.

"Ah," Wyatt said. "Still no luck on the old Cadillac?"

Marigold shook her head sadly. "None--the thing's caput, I think. How's your mother?"

"Same," he replied. "Very particular, but not too troublesome."

A heartbeat passed. Two. Three.