Desert Rose

by Anna Lowe

Beth sighed and started reading again, doing it right, because the kids deserved as much, even if she’d never get her own happily-ever-after.

  “Once upon a time, there was a little coyote who lived behind the hills and the valleys, behind a big mesa with a tree on top, and under an endless sky…”

  She read on, letting her voice rise and dip with every line of the story, hiding the fact that she was crying inside.

  Chapter Four

  Axel drifted happily through his favorite dream. The one where the angel sang, just for him.

  Sunlight tapped his shoulder, but he clung stubbornly to the last threads of sleep, trying to prolong the dream. That angel had kept him alive in the pain-wracked fog he’d fallen into after the hellhound fight. Every time he’d been about to drift over the line from life to death—so tempting, the easy way out—the angel would start singing and give him a reason to hang on.

  And now she was back, calling to him like a siren. He tuned in just enough to catch the steady, singsong voice. He’d never seen the ocean, but he figured waves over the sand might make a similarly soothing sound.

  Other sounds hummed in the background, other scents, but he focused on the silky voice. So peaceful. So lyrical—

  Bang!

  Something slammed to the ground, and his eyelids flew open, imagining the worst. A rock falling from the roof of a cave where he’d taken shelter, maybe, signaling that it was time to pick up his weary body and move on. Or maybe it was a bolt of lightning illuminating a hundred empty miles of desert as he sprinted on four feet, hurrying behind his father on yet another urgent mission.

  He blinked and looked around. No cave. No desert, except the view outside the windows. He flexed his fingers—human fingers, not hooves—and they sank into the leather of an armchair.

  The library. He was in the library. Whew.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” a voice squawked. A woman’s voice, pitched like an off-key cuckoo.

  He sat upright, blinking sleep out of his eyes. Where did the angel go?

  “I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

  He squinted at the woman. A stranger with really big, really blond hair that looked like all the life had been washed out of it.

  She leaned over to pick up a thick book lying at her feet, opening a mighty view to her meaty cleavage. She seemed to get stuck, because she stayed bent for much longer than necessary, and straightened very, very slowly, inviting him to enjoy that view for as long as he liked.

  He ran his hands through his short-cropped hair, wondering who she was. Wondering when she might go away, because she didn’t fit in at the library. Not like sweet old Jean did. Not like the books or the paintings or even the squirrely kids, sitting on the rug not too far away.

  The woman hitched her skirt so high, he had to glance away. He stood, looking for some escape—

  Oh, crap. The woman ate up the few steps between them and came close. Very close. His nose twitched. Had she been rolling in dime-store perfume, or was that her natural scent?

  He took a step back and nearly fell into the chair. Trapped.

  “Hello, Axel, I’m Aud—”

  He didn’t hear the rest, because the angel started singing again.

  “The little coyote ran high over the mesa…”

  His head whipped around. The angel was here? She was real?

  He sniffed, but he couldn’t break through the thick barrier of perfume.

  “Audrey. Aud-rey,” the too-close woman said, annoyed. “I’m Audrey.” Good thing she didn’t have a drumstick in her hand; she’d have beaten him over the head with it.

  “Hello,” he murmured. “Audrey.” Maybe that would satisfy her. Maybe she’d go away.

  He stretched up on his toes because the heels she was wearing gave her some serious height, and he could barely see over her shoulder. Where was the angel? Who was she?

  “…the little coyote howled into the night, calling his friends…”

  There she was. But all he could see was the back of her head. Shiny chestnut hair cascading over the collar of her white blouse.

  His heart raced as if he were the little coyote who ran through the night.

  “So, Axel, I wanted to welcome you to the ranch…” Audrey’s voice broke in like an off-tune violin amidst a chamber quartet. Not that he’d ever heard a chamber quartet, but his mom used to listen to records on a hand-cranked Victrola, and he remembered the sound carrying over the desert at night. It was beautiful, except when screeching opera voices started up.

  Audrey placed a hand flat against his chest. Or not quite flat, because her fingers started stroking. She might as well have dragged her nails against a blackboard; all his nerves screamed for her to stop.

  He plopped down on the chair and leaned right, looking for escape. Looking for the angel.

  “I hear you’re a big hero,” Audrey said, looking down at him. Maybe calculating where to best slide into his lap. “And we sure like to reward our heroes…”

  “Aroooo! Aroooo!” Two little girls play-howled.

  “…and the other coyotes rushed in from all over the desert…” the angel went on.

  God, he could use a friend rushing in around now.

  “So I was thinking,” Audrey continued, licking her lips so the red lipstick shone. “Maybe you’d like a nice, close shave.” Her finger stroked his beard, sending a shudder down his spine. “You and I could—”

  “Audrey,” Aunt Jean called, her voice sharper than usual. She held up the phone. “Lana has a question about your salon.”

  Audrey scowled at the mention of the alpha female’s name then shot him another hungry look. She pursed her lips an inch away from his brow. He leaned away and threw a hand up, pretending to scratch his face.

  “Audrey,” Jean called again. “Lana says Ty is with her and—”

  Audrey shot upright, licking her shiny lips. “Ty?”

  Jean smiled. “They’d like to see you. Right now.”

  Audrey shot Axel a wink he had no idea how to interpret, then ran her fingers along his chin. Tipped it up and leaned closer, and—whoa! Was she really going to—

  “Audrey!” Jean barked, rescuing him.

  Audrey smirked, blew him a kiss, and sashayed away. “Tell Ty I’m on my way to him.”

  Jean kept her face perfectly neutral as she spoke into the phone. “Lana, Audrey says she’s coming your way now.”

  Axel slumped back in the chair and closed his eyes, searching for the feeling of peace he’d woken with.

  “…and all the little wolves circled together…”

  He exhaled slowly and tuned in to the angel again.

  “…and danced and played. Then they all lifted their heads and howled their happiness to the moon,” she finished. Her voice was like a soft hand, soothing his jumpy nerves back into place.

  The little girls clapped. “And they lived happily ever after,” Tana cheered.

  “Happily ever after,” the angel agreed, but she sounded sad.

  The world had never seemed as silent as it did over the next heartbeat, when her voice faded away.

  “Mister Axel! Mister Axel!” the little girls called, filling the library with good cheer. “You want to hear a story?”

  Axel felt frozen in time, yet his feet acted on some irrepressible instinct and carried him over in four quick steps.

  “Axel, sweetheart, have you met Beth?” Aunt Jean smiled from the circulation desk.

  The woman on the leather couch stood and turned slowly. Shyly? He doubted it, because wolves weren’t shy. Probably she was afraid of the strange boar that took up way too much space.

  He took another stiff step, then froze when her brown eyes turned to him. God, she was pretty. Pretty, and shiny, too. Her cheeks had a healthy glow, her silky hair caught the light slanting in the windows on the west side.

  She smiled cautiously and nodded his way. “Hello.”

  One little word, but he felt like catching it and holding it to his chest.

  “Hello,
” he said. It came out all croaky, but she didn’t seem to mind.

  “Hi,” she murmured back.

  “Hi,” he echoed, digging the toes of his right foot into the carpet.

  They might just have gone on like that indefinitely if little Tana hadn’t butted in.

  “Mister Axel, you’re supposed to shake someone’s hand when you meet them,” Tana said. “Mommy says it’s polite.”

  He raked his fingers through his short hair. It was probably sticking straight up. Christ, he probably looked like a lumbering idiot straight out of a cave.

  “Hello,” he tried again, sticking out his hand. Which didn’t feel right, somehow. Handshakes were for quick introductions. Business deals. Grumpy old men. Surely you didn’t shake hands with an angel? Surely you kissed her knuckles or something like that?

  But her small hand was already slipping into his, and he went warm all over. He closed his fingers over hers, careful not to crush, and even though his hand dwarfed hers, it felt perfect. Just perfect. He’d spent the whole morning pounding at steel. Spent most of his life pounding his hooves over the desert. Now he was touching the edge of a cloud. A puffy summer cloud, warmed by the sun.

  Was he seeing things, or did her cheeks glow a little brighter?

  He was probably seeing things. Hell, he could barely see straight.

  “Now you say, ‘Nice to meet you, Beth,’” Tana cued.

  Good thing he had a four-year-old telling him what to do.

  “Nice to meet you, Beth,” he mumbled.

  She blushed. “Nice to meet you, Axel.”

  Those words, he might just press like flowers between the pages of a book so he could keep them forever. It wasn’t every day an angel spoke to him, after all.

  A very pretty angel with chestnut hair and wide, shiny eyes and a sweet, cautious smile. She was so unlike the other women on the ranch. A little more curvy, a little more careful. Fragile, almost, if you could call a she-wolf that. Like a desert rose.

  She was rounder and softer than most of the women here, and that suited him fine, because javelinas didn’t come in slim, or gorgeous, or freckled-cowgirl-cute. They came in pretty, just like Beth. Librarian-pretty. Smart-pretty. Girl-next-door-pretty.

  And if you asked him, pretty was just right.

  Mine, a rumbly voice announced from somewhere deep in his bones. My mate.

  He tilted his head, because it sounded a hell of a lot like his dad’s voice, but it couldn’t be, because it came from inside.

  “Have you ever met a javelina before?” Tana asked Beth.

  The high he’d been gliding on shattered, dropping him back to reality with a painful thud. Beth was no javelina, and he was no wolf. Whomever that inner voice belonged to, it was wrong. Dead wrong, because shifter species didn’t mix. Not that way, they didn’t.

  Mate. The inner voice grumbled louder, and he leaned closer in spite of himself.

  Beth looked deep into his eyes, and whatever she saw there made her blush.

  “No,” she murmured.

  Not his mate? His heart sank.

  “Well, yes,” she continued. “I mean, I’ve never met a javelina properly. Face-to-face.”

  His heart soared again. Face-to-face sounded nice. Real nice.

  She held her lower lip in her teeth, and his cheeks heated. Crap, what if he was blushing, too?

  “Beth, sweetheart, I need you to get me a book,” Aunt Jean called.

  Beth didn’t budge.

  “Beth?” Jean tried again, and this time, Beth’s head jerked up.

  “Huh?”

  “I need you to get me a book,” Jean said. “Come along now.”

  Axel wanted to reach out and grab Beth as she reluctantly drew away.

  “Sure,” Beth murmured, but her voice was sad.

  “You, too, Axel,” Jean added, and they both perked up.

  “Me?”

  Jean waved them toward a ceiling-high bookshelf. “I need one from the very top. Can you get it, please, dear? And Axel, sweetie, you hold the ladder while she climbs up.”

  Beth blushed even redder and started up a ladder wound with Christmas tinsel along both sides. Axel gripped the wood and looked up. Then looked down, because as nice as the view of the backside of her slacks was, that just wasn’t right. He concentrated on the book spines in front of him and on holding the ladder so tightly, it didn’t even vibrate from her steps. No way was that ladder going to budge, not on his watch.

  “Which one?” The angel—er, Beth—asked.

  “The big one with the black spine. By Merritt Klein.” Jean called out as she beckoned the little girls, “And you two, can you help me tidy up in the back?”

  The library went quiet as Jean and the girls moved off.

  “This one?” Beth called from overhead. He could feel her weight shift on the ladder. “Aunt Jean?”

  But Jean was out of earshot, or pretending to be.

  “Must be the right one,” Beth mumbled, starting down. “Oh!” she yelped.

  The ladder wobbled as she slipped. Every nerve in Axel’s body jumped to attention as his hands tightened around the ladder.

  “Whoa,” Beth murmured, regaining her balance.

  Sweat broke out on his forehead, remembering a voice just like that one, crying in fear. Worse than fear, actually. Crying in terror. Beth’s voice?

  His inner boar huffed in alarm, ready for a fight. Which was crazy, because they were in the library, and she’d just had a little wobble, not a confrontation with a deadly enemy, right?

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Fine,” she murmured. The ladder steadied again.

  He stared at the grain in the wood, willing hidden memories back. When had he heard her cry out before?

  He shook off the unsettled feeling and concentrated on the ladder, which wasn’t so hard to do now that a sandaled foot had appeared next to the tinsel at eye level. The angel was coming down. Another foot came into view, and then a very nice leg which he couldn’t help but look at. The sight scrambled the thoughts bouncing around his mind, because all that mattered was the present: Beth, so close. Taking another step, which brought the back of her white blouse into his field of vision as she stepped down between his arms. His breath stuck in his throat because, whoa, suddenly he was looking at the front of her blouse. She’d turned around one rung from the bottom to face him.

  He blinked, and she blinked back, as if she wasn’t sure what made her stop or turn. Her warmth filled the space between his arms. Her chest rose on a deep breath, and her lips parted just a tiny bit.

  Kiss me, they seemed to say.

  God, he liked the idea of that. But what if he was imagining things?

  Kiss her, the deep inner voice said.

  Maybe it was the wind, whispering outside.

  Kiss her, the voice growled.

  She’d closed half the distance by then, and all he had to do was lean in another half inch and their lips would touch.

  So he did.

  The sun seemed to burst over the desert. Little spears of light flashed through his body, and he had to close his eyes. Her lips were soft and full and moving slowly over his. Maybe saying something in secret angel code.

  He leaned forward, aching for more of her sweet, golden taste, her desert rose scent. Her body melted into his until he couldn’t tell the difference any more. Just that it was really warm and really nice and he never wanted to let her go.

  Her hand brushed his cheek, sparking a hundred hazy memories to life. He pulled in a deep breath. Maybe the angel hadn’t been a fantasy. Maybe it had been her.

  He let his lips slide over hers, side to side. Let them hold her lower lip the same way her hands cupped his face and just hung on. And on and on and—

  The boxy old clock in the hall bonged. Once. Twice.

  “Axel, sweetheart,” Jean’s voice called from around a corner.

  They broke apart, and the angel gasped a little bit. He had to catch his breath, too, staring at her in wide-e
yed wonder.

  “It’s two o’clock,” Jean called.

  Soft footsteps sounded on the carpet, telling him he really ought to step back from Beth. But he couldn’t. Breaking the kiss was bad enough; how could he step away?

  “Time for your visit to the school,” Jean added. Her voice carried from around the corner, closer now.

  Beth slid slowly to the floor. He caught her waist, guiding her down as if those last twelve inches were a mile.

  She blinked at him, arms along his sides.

  “School!” Tana shouted as she came barreling around the corner.

  Alarms went off in his mind, and this time, he really did take half a step back, opening the cage of his arms. His eyes, though, hung on for a long time.

  Beth’s, too.

  “Yay!” Holly cried, joining Tana. “School! Come on!” Her tiny hand grabbed at his.

  “We’ll show you the way,” Tana announced, tugging his shirt.

  Beth’s delicate eyebrows arched, making his heart skip again. “School?”

  He shrugged sheepishly.

  “It’s a cultival…a cultible…” Tana fished for the words.

  “Cultural,” Jean filled in.

  “Cultural visit. Axel gets to tell the kids all about javelinas, and me and Holly get to go, too.”

  “Holly and I,” Jean murmured, looking awfully pleased with herself.

  “Holly and I,” Tana echoed. “Let’s go!”

  A cultural visit by a javelina. If that didn’t underscore how different their species were, nothing did. Axel gave in to the tiny, tugging hands and turned for the door.

  “See you later?” Beth called.

  He looked at her, aching inside. That would be nice. Really nice. But for all he knew, someone would tattle on their kiss and he’d be thrown off the ranch. These über-territorial wolves wouldn’t appreciate a wild boar coming on to one of their women. Christ, he’d be evicted right after his visit to the school. Two o’clock, school visit; three o’clock, adios and on his way.

  “I hope so,” he whispered. “I really hope so.”

  Chapter Five

  “Girls and boys, we have a very special visitor today.”

  A dozen little kids squirmed on the colorful rug like so many overexcited sheep as the teacher herded a couple of stragglers into place.