Little Wolves by Thomas Maltman Read Free Book Online Page B

like any good linguist. But she said nothingto her husband, because it wouldn’t help him feel any better. She also had trouble sleeping, her dreams restless and furtive, as if she had tuned in to the voices scattered about town, where the story of what happened went on and on, a psychic echo. Writing in her notebook, telling her father’s stories, soothed the voices and let her rest. Writing was her prayer.
    The only language she spoke for a time was her hand on his. Nightmares aside, it felt good to be with him in the gloomy morning, touching. The next words slipped out of her without thinking. “Was it a mistake to come here?” When Logan flinched she wished she could take it back.
    Logan withdrew his hand. “Doesn’t do any good to think about that. We’re here.”
    The room next to them was still cluttered with unpacked boxes a couple of months after their arrival. “We could go,” Clara said, her voice barely a whisper. “You could tell the synod bishop it wasn’t a good fit, ask for reassignment.”
    A faint flush crept into Logan’s cheeks as he studied her. “Three years, Clara. If you spend less than that in your first call, it looks bad on your record. We waited two months for this assignment. How would I get another call?”
    There was nothing kind in his blue eyes so she looked away from him.
    “We can’t leave them in the lurch. Not after this.” Logan continued when she didn’t say anything, “Besides, coming here was your idea, remember?”
    “People make mistakes all the time. There’s no shame in admitting it.”
    Logan rose from his chair, closing off the conversation. He was moving away from her once more, going off to shower and then to the church next door. “I’ve found a home for those kittens,” he said, surprising her. “Last Sunday, after the service.”
    “What?”
    “I think that’s part of what’s bothering me, my allergies, just having them in the basement. The Nelson family said they would take them. All their cats died from the distemper. Now they have rats in the barn again.”
    Clara couldn’t bear to look at him. “I want to come with when you take them.”
    “No. The Nelsons are very private people.” Logan averted his gaze. Had she caught him in a lie? Was he planning on dumping those kittens by the side of the road or worse? It occurred to her that she didn’t know what he was capable of doing. If Clara saw the Nelsons in church she would ask them about the kittens, but she had no idea whom he was talking about. Most of Logan’s congregation were still strangers to her.
    “They’ll all die. They’re too small. They were born too late in the fall.”
    “Welcome to the country,” Logan said.
    “I didn’t know when I married you that you had a mean streak.”
    Logan touched her hair, patting it. This should have bothered her even more, but his touch took away the other words she was going to say, and she let his fingers lingerthere. It surprised her how much she wanted him to touch her, when she had just been ready to spit in his eye. She shut her eyes while he massaged her scalp. “You feel things too keenly,” he said.
    His voice was lower, calming. His fingers found the ridges in her skull, pressed gently at the tension. “I’m not trying to be mean,” he said. “You knew from the night you found them you couldn’t keep them.”
    “Just let me keep them one more day.”
    Logan kissed the top of her head. “A few more days. I’ll take them on Friday. The Nelsons are good people, Clara.”
    By “good people” it was clear what he meant. His kind of people. Church people. She let the comment pass because she could feel the baby stirring inside her. She let it pass because her husband who had been avoiding her was touching her, his hands moving from her hair to her shoulders. “The baby,” she told him. “It’s kicking. Do you want to feel it?”
    Logan’s hands went still.
    She opened her robe. Her breasts were heavy and full. Beneath