by Maddy Barone
Deep inside, the man stirred. The wolf felt his growing alarm and urged him forward by shoving images of their mate: her unconscious body lying over the crusty ice, her blood welling from the cut at her hairline to stain the ice beneath her, the blue tinge to her lips. That galvanized the man. Like a mighty wind blowing over the prairie, he rose and shoved the wolf back. Relieved, the wolf retreated.
*
Colby fell to his knees as pain crashed over him. He didn’t know where he was. This empty bit of scrubby prairie was completely unknown to him. He didn’t know why he was here or how he had gotten here. The place where his memories should be was a gaping black hole. He caught himself with one hand on the ice and put his other hand over his head to try to still the pain. A scent came to him that even a black hole couldn’t wash from his memory. Gina. Mate.
She lay before him in a bedraggled fancy dress. Where was her coat? He let go of his head to lay a hand over her cheek. Cold. She was so cold. He gathered her close.
“Miss Gina?”
His voice was a hoarse croak. He coughed and tried again. “Miss Gina!”
Her eyelashes fluttered. “C-co-cold.”
“Hang onto me, honey. I’ll share my body heat with you.” Gently he propped her against his chest and guided her hands into his armpits. Wrapping his arms around her to enclose as much of her as possible in his warmth, he looked around. There was nothing to see but snow and ice crusted dead grass and some scrubby trees. The position of the stars told him it was a few hours after midnight, but did nothing to pinpoint their location. Why were they out in the middle of nowhere?
“Where are we?” he asked her.
“How would I know?” Her voice squeaked with outrage. “You made me follow you out here. Don’t you know?”
He didn’t reply. “Is this Nebraska?”
“Probably.” She pushed her face more deeply into his chest and flinched. “My head hurts.”
“Mine, too. We can’t stay here. We need to get you warm.”
As she whimpered agreement, he carefully stood, balancing her in his arms like a mother with a baby. Flattened grass and scattered snow showed where they had come from. Climbing the steep, ten foot slope made his head jangle with pain. Once on top he searched the landscape for a camp, or a house, or anything that would help his mate. He read the tracks on the top of the hill well enough. His wolf had been leading the way when his mate fell down the slope. He looked in the direction the tracks led. Where had the wolf been going? He tried to remember. There was nothing in his mind. Since no better plan came to him, he continued in the wolf’s direction.
“Where are we going?” his mate demanded.
“There is a farmhouse ahead.”
That was only a guess, but a good one. To their left were straight furrows under the snow, indications that this land was under cultivation. The stream on their right would provide water for crops. Dawn was only a couple of hours away. Soon the farmwife would light the stove to cook breakfast. He would scent the smoke and find the house.
“Thank God. I’m so cold. Colby.” The stars gleamed in her pale blue eyes. He stared down at her, captivated by her beauty. Her eyes frowned slightly as she pulled a hand from under his arm and raised it to the side of his head, but she tucked it back without touching him. “Colby, are you alright? You were shot. I could see the gash on the wolf, but you don’t have a scar.”
He had been shot? Blurred, shadowy memories tried to form, but faded away before he could grasp them. “What has happened in the past week?” he inquired.
She drew a quivery breath. “Nothing much. Not until today. My stepfather probably made me wait that long to torture me.”
A growl vibrated in his chest. “Your stepfather tortures you?”
“Not physically. Mentally. He called for me this afternoon. Or maybe it was yesterday afternoon. He told me I was going to marry the Allersens. They’re from Falls City—”
“You can’t,” he interrupted fiercely. “You are my mate.”
She laughed bitterly. “Tell him that.”
His voice came out flat. “I will.”
She laughed again. “Hopefully we’ll never see him again.”
He silently swore she never would. “Tell me more.”
“Well, my wedding date was set for the first of May, and I would go immediately to the Brotherhood Commune in Falls City.”
“And? How did we end up out here?”
She lifted her head from his throat to look at him. “You really don’t know?”
He shook his head and regretted it. “No, I don’t remember. Normally I remember everything when the wolf is out, but I have no memories in my head right now.”
His mate put her face down again. “After supper I went to the outhouse. When I came out the soldier who escorted me was bleeding on the ground and you ̶ that is, the wolf ̶ made me leave camp with him. We walked all night.”
“Where’s your coat?” He rubbed his hand along her bare arm. His body heat was something, but not enough. “You’re very cold.”
“The president gave orders that I couldn’t wear a coat. He probably thought that would keep me from running away. I guess he was wrong.” She paused. “Um, Colby?”
Hearing her speak his name made him forget the pain in his head. “Call me Cole. My mom named me Colby, but that’s a cheese. I like Cole better.”
She stifled a laugh. “OK. Cole. Are you the wolf? Or is the wolf you? It’s kind of confusing.”
He thought about how to explain it to her. “The wolf and I are two different people. In the Lakota Wolf Clan many boys are born with the spirit of a wolf within them. When the boy hits puberty, the wolf sort of wakes up. He forces the boy to let him out, and then the spirit wolf becomes a real wolf and the boy is a spirit inside the wolf. The boy has to learn to control the wolf. If he can’t control the wolf, he can’t force the wolf to go back to being a spirit. Then the boy isn’t human anymore. Do you understand?”
She gently shook her head. “Not really.”
He wasn’t surprised. Lots of women who mated wolves didn’t completely comprehend something they had never experienced. “Let’s not worry about that now.” He had no memory of the past week. The wolf had been in control and it chilled him how close he had come to losing himself to the wolf. “I’ll try to explain more when you are warm and rested. Look, the farmhouse is less than a mile ahead of us.”
“Oh, thank God. Hurry.”
He ran. With his wolf’s speed, it took only a few minutes to arrive at the fence that circled the yard around the house. The wind his pace created caused his mate to turn her face into his throat. Her breath on his skin was the most wonderful sensation he had ever experienced. Tenderness flooded him, followed swiftly by a fierce desire to protect her. If she hadn’t been in desperate need of more warmth than he could provide, he would have run with her in his arms for hours.
As soon as Cole stopped at the fence, a pack of dogs tore out of two sheds, howling an alert that strangers were approaching. The fence was made of wood and wire, obviously more to keep the farm animals in than to keep intruders out. Although he wanted to leap the fence and rush his mate to the warmth of the kitchen, Cole stood with Gina in his arms waiting for the farmer to make an appearance. Better to wait than have Gina shot.
The farmer came out of the barn in less than five seconds. His gray-streaked brown hair and lined face made Cole estimate his age to be around sixty. As expected, he held a shotgun at the ready and shielded himself half behind the barn door. Cole approved the farmer’s caution.
“Who is it?” he shouted over the dogs’ barking. “What do you want?”
“I’m Cole Wolfe,” he shouted back. “My wife is freezing. Please, can I bring her inside to get warm?”
The farmer didn’t answer immediately. After a pause, he said, “She’s freezing? You’re buck naked, boy, and it ain’t August, you know.”
Cole considered making up a story about thieves who had stolen his clothes but
discarded the idea. Gina’s arm was tight around his neck, so he focused on what was important. “That doesn’t matter. Please, let her in. I can stay out here if it would make you feel better.”
There was another long pause before the farmer stepped away from the door and approached them. He stopped a wary distance away. Cole noted the shotgun wasn’t aimed at them but it would take only a tiny move to lift the barrel in their direction. The man’s eyes matched the gray streaks in his hair as he looked them over thoroughly. Cole found himself tensing when the stranger looked at his mate. His wolf didn’t like another man looking at their mate. The chattering of Gina’s teeth seemed to decide the man.
“You folks better come in.” He gestured with the shotgun toward the house. “You go on to the door at the left. Stop there. I’ll follow you until then, but I’ll go in first to let my wife know you’re guests.”
Cole waited for the man to open the gate and step back, shotgun held casually ready, before walking through and following the path through the snow to the house. The man might be overreacting. Gina was clearly no threat, and he was obviously not hiding any weapons, but he respected a man who took his wife’s safety seriously. He obediently paused below the three shallow steps leading to the door and let the man slip past him. The farmer closed the door, but Cole could hear him speaking inside, explaining to his wife that they had odd visitors and one of them needed pants to be decent enough to come into her kitchen. Cole glanced down at himself, but his mate blocked the view of his nakedness. He hauled her closer to his warmth.
“Soon,” he told her softly. “Soon you’ll be warm.”
“Can’t wait,” she said. “You can put me down now.”
He held her tighter. “No, not yet.”
The door swung open. The scent of frying ham poured out of the warm house. The farmer stood there, a wad of fabric in one hand. Jeans, washed so often that they were almost gray. He held the jeans out to Cole. “You get dressed before you come in. I’ll take your wife.”
A snarl burst from Cole’s throat. The man stepped back, arms dropping, to reveal a woman. She resolutely kept her eyes on Cole’s face. Her expression went from coolly polite to shocked. She clapped her hand over her mouth. Her husband stepped forward again, but she grabbed his arm to hold him back.
“John,” she said quickly, “don’t touch her.” She turned appealing eyes to Cole. “We won’t take your mate away from you. Please put her down here in the mudroom and put the jeans on, then come in. Breakfast is nearly ready.”
Her husband gave her a suspicious look. “You know him?”
“No, but I know who he is. What he is.” She gave Cole a smile. “Hi, I’m Nikki from the Plane Women’s House.”
Chapter Four
Gina barely heard what the woman said. The aroma of ham sizzling on the stove pushed everything else out of her mind. But she noticed Cole’s arms stiffening around her and immediately relaxing, so she forced herself to pay attention to what was going on around her. The woman was not young, but her face had the timeless beauty that perfect bone structure preserved. Her soft brown hair was frosted with silver, the corners of her blue eyes edged with crow’s feet wrinkles, but her expression was lively and warm.
“Come in,” the woman urged. She put out one hand to push her husband back and lightly touched Gina’s shoulder with the other. “Oh, my dear, you’re frozen.” She looked up at Colby again. “Please, bring your mate in from the cold. I’ll take her into the kitchen while you get dressed.”
How did this stranger know that Cole thought of Gina as his ‘mate’? Cole stood silent a moment, and then gently put Gina on her feet. “Thank you.”
Gina’s feet almost failed to hold her up. She clutched Cole’s arm for balance. He steadied her until the farmwife hooked an arm around her waist and guided her into a short hallway that led to a roomy kitchen. The woman’s arm was warm and steady, but Gina was aware of a sense of loss. Cole was warmer and steadier.
Cole didn’t smell like ham and potatoes, though, and the kitchen did. Gina was suddenly ravenous. The woman pulled a chair over to the stove and pushed Gina into it. The stove was blessedly warm. In a few seconds the woman brought a wet washcloth and applied it gently to Gina’s forehead. The pain from the bump flared back to life.
“Sorry,” the woman murmured. “We need to get this cleaned up.”
Gina tried to distract herself from the pain. “Do you know Cole?” she asked, trying to remember what the woman had said. “His full name is Colby.”
“Colby.” The woman paused, obviously thinking. “No, the name is familiar, but I don’t think I ever met him. He would have been just a baby when I married John and left the House to move here. There were so many babies born around that time that I can’t keep them straight.”
She said the word ‘house’ as if Gina should know which house. Gina didn’t. Cole came into the kitchen, dressed in threadbare jeans too wide in the waist and too short at the ankle, and a button up summer weight cotton shirt a bit too narrow in the shoulders. His feet were still bare. The farmer followed him in, still holding his shotgun, but no longer looking threatening.
“I don’t remember you,” Cole confirmed. “My dad is Taye, from the Pack north of Kearney.”
“Oh, sure.” Nikki’s eyes lit. “Then Carla is your mom. We were on the plane together. I’m still in contact with Connie and Kathy. We exchange a couple of letters a year.”
Gina was completely lost by this conversation.
“John,” the woman said, wringing out the washrag, “get the extra blanket from the closet.”
Cole came directly to Gina and crouched in front of her. “Are you okay, honey?”
“Yes.” The pain in her head was better now, but her feet and hands were being stabbed by a million red hot needles. That was good. It meant she was still alive. “How about you?”
“Fine.”
The man came back with the blanket but not the shotgun. Cole helped the woman drape it around Gina. She clutched it tightly under her chin, so grateful for its comfort that tears stung her eyes. Cole looked alarmed.
“Are you okay?” he asked again.
“Yes.” She scrubbed the tears away and told a fib. “It’s just the, uh, smoke. Breakfast is burning.”
“I’ll finish breakfast, Nikki,” the man said quietly. “You take Mrs. Wolfe to the bedroom and get her some warm clothes. I’ll finish chores after we get things settled.”
It took Gina a moment to realize that she was Mrs. Wolfe, but Nikki helped her up and led the way out of the kitchen. They passed through a living room to a hallway with three doors. Nikki went past the first two doors and opened the third one to reveal a bedroom crowded with a large, neatly made bed and two wooden bureaus. Nikki guided Gina to the bed and turned to rummage through a drawer. She pulled out a pair of jeans, a blue sweater, and two pairs of wool socks.
“I’m a little taller than you,” Nikki said with a smile, “but we’re about the same size so these should fit.”
Nikki said nothing about the party dress as she helped Gina out of it, but her brow furrowed briefly as she set it aside. Gina wondered what she should say if she was asked why she was outside in a dinner dress and nothing else. She groped for a believable lie in vain. Nothing could explain this bizarre situation. Even the truth was ludicrous.
Nikki didn’t ask. She carefully examined Gina’s toes, fingers, nose, and ears as she helped her dress. “No frostbite,” she said with relief. “Let’s go back out to the kitchen. You need to sit close to the stove to thoroughly warm up.”
Heaven would have thick wool socks. Gina was sure of it. She followed the woman back to the kitchen, each step driving pins and needles through her feet, but by the time she entered the kitchen, the pins and needles were fading. Cole visibly relaxed when he saw her. He took her hand and gently tugged her back to the chair by the stove.
“I want to sit at the table,” she protested.
In answer, he went to the large wooden table,
slid one hand under it and lifted it. With no sign of effort, he carried it three yards and set it down in front of her so gently that nothing on it was disturbed. Gina gaped at the sugar bowl and the two place settings before raising her gaze to him. No wonder he could carry her for miles without panting.
The farmer was staring too, but his wife calmly brought more tableware and made two more place settings. “Coffee?” she asked placidly.
Gina giggled. It was a nervous, half-hysterical giggle, but Cole smiled at her and brought the chairs over. He put one chair next to her and sat in it. Somehow, he was just as warm as the stove. Between the stove at her back and Cole at her side, Gina could feel herself thawing.
Nikki served them. She apologized for the potatoes, which were a bit scorched, but the ham was perfect, and the eggs plentiful. The bread was toasted, and the butter was rich and thick. It reminded Gina of her stepfather’s dinner party last night.
Gina froze. That was just last night?
“What is it?” Cole asked.
“Nothing.”
The farmer paused in shoveling in eggs. “We should introduce ourselves. I’m John Clarkson. My wife, Nikki. I met Nikki in Kearney, when she was working at the Eatery in the Plane Women’s House. We married three months later, after I proved to Des and Connie Wolfe that I would be good to her.”
Cole nodded. “I’m Cole Wolfe. I’m a member of the Pack north of Kearney. This is my mate, Gina.”
Gina made herself smile, bracing herself for their disgust when he told them who her stepfather was. But he didn’t.
“I came to Omaha with kin for the spring legislative session. That’s where I met Gina.” he went on. “I need to go back to Omaha. Will you look after Gina for a day?”
“Of course,” Nikki began.
Gina cut her off. “You’re going to Omaha now? Without me?”
“Yeah,” he said. “You need to rest.”
“You need to rest, too,” she countered.
“You worry about me?” There was something tender in his dark eyes when he looked at her. That look melted her insides. The melting froze when the tenderness was drowned by arrogance. “Don’t. I am a wolf warrior. You are not. I can travel faster without you. I will find my cousins and lead them here. We will bring you safely home to the den.”
