Cozy • An Embry Story

.35

A/N: This an Enola + Leah Chapter

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Winnie's POV

"Is the rent due?" I try to force my eyes open, just barely managing to see Enola through the droopy slits of my heavy eyes. She's been banging on my door for awhile, a knock so dense it's shaking the entire cabin. There's not even light out yet. I have to do a double to make sure it's not the middle of the night. The sun is just shy of breaking, with everything still dim and blue. While I'm standing in the door in my pajamas, Enola is decked out in her hunting gear; boots, cargo pants, cameo vest, fleece sweater, and her signature rifle over her shoulder.

"No," Enola would wave it off if it wasn't for the rifle on her shoulder. "We're going hunting. Get dressed, Winifred."

"We?" I pinch my eyes shut, trying to force my brain to function just the slightest bit more.

"We." A voice sounds off behind her. Peering over Enola, I see Leah Clearwater leaning against a tree with a bored look on her face. She's wearing matching hunter green cargo pants like Enola—boots, a long sleeved beige thermal shirt, with her shoulder length hair braided into two braids tucked under a green baseball cap. Admittedly Leah makes hunting gear look stylish as she does tough, like that trendy athleisure wear. She's just so motivating to look at. I'm not surprised Leah is a morning person, but more taken aback to see her here in what consists of my front yard.

"Now?" I croak, wondering if I like living here that much.

"Yes. Now." Enola looks like she's having fun. "It's Girls' Day." I knew moving into her backyard would cause the occasional trouble, but trouble earlier than sunrise wasn't what I expected.

"When did you invite me to go hunting, Enola? It's early, so I just need you to remind me." It's taking a lot of will power not to sit down while she talks. Yet, I force a polite tone in my thick voice as best as I can.

"When you fell asleep at my house." The little old women smiles coyly. All manners and pretense evade me, a flat look making its way through across my face.

"So, you told me when I was asleep." My flat tone only seems to make Enola smirk all the wider.

"No, Winifred, I asked you when you first laid back on my couch. Then ten minutes later you were asleep." Enola clarifies. "Now, Leah's car is running. Better get on and dressed. We have a muffin waiting in the car." Enola dismisses me, practically skipping her way down my front steps. I look to Leah to see if Enola is joking, despite already knowing this is far from a joke. Whatever Leah sees on my face has her smirking with a "Enola called shotgun."

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Do you two hunt a lot?" I yawn from the backseat of Leah's jeep. I desperately tried sleeping in the back, but the drive was so short since everywhere in La Push is woods. We got there in fifteen minutes.

The three of us unpack Leah's jeep. With Leah doing the heavy lifting since she has super strength while Enola packs snacks and water in each of our backpacks. They let me watch from the car, both of them warning me to get ready to hike a few miles. A warning I take seriously.

"Since Leah was nine years old. Her father and I would hunt, and she'd come along to be our eyes." Enola explains while Leah simply shrugs off my question. The touchy subject of Harry Clearwater's death gets me awake. While it's no longer a sore topic, it's common decency not to bring up. Sensing my shift in tone, Leah gives me brief warning glare that signals not to pity her then ignores me as she carries on.