Dark Heart Wolf

by Haley Weir

  Sam watched Mary Ann close the front door. He watched the lantern light flicker behind the curtains as she walked up to her bedchamber. He watched until that light went out and he knew she was fast asleep after a long day at work. Jesse threw his arm around Sam’s shoulder and they walked to the saloon just as Beth and Wesley were on their way out. Beth and Jesse avoided one another’s gazes the way Sam often avoided his brother’s. He didn’t know what was going on there and, quite frankly, he didn’t care.

  Wesley said his goodbyes and Sam flopped into a chair at one of the tables near the back of the establishment. His hand touched something sticky on the tabletop and he grimaced. The server came over with two glasses and a bottle of whiskey, leaving it behind as Sam relaxed in his seat. The soiled doves fluttering their skirts and dancing around to the music gave him sultry looks like he was a quality cut of beef and they were starving.

  “What has Itsá said about the witches that took Charlotte?” Jesse asked, breaking through the lusty haze that fell over Sam’s mind.

  “Not much other than the fact that if they’re already this active, then their leader will rise soon. Then we’ll have two of those evil spirits he’s yappin’ about on our list of problems.”

  “I’m hoping Beth and Wesley can find Charlotte so we can start strategizing against our enemies. If Itsá is right, the Wendigo Spirit will be gearing up for that big bar we’re supposed to be fighting. That means we’ll be outnumbered and without a weapon that can kill those sons of bitches. I don’t like those odds.”

  Sam snorted and waved towards the ladies near the bar. "Mark my words, one of these damsels we saved after the storm will be at the heart of all this mess."

  "What makes you say that?"

  "Well, you lot are fallin' for them fast. If Itsá's prophecies start comin' true, then they are the ones to blame," he supposed. "That's why I stay far away from them unless I need my new sister-in-law to patch me up."

  "Abigail is a fine doctor."

  "And one hell of a woman." Sam signaled the server to bring over a second bottle. He poured himself a glass and drank the bitter liquid that caused his chest to burn like fire. "When I saw her fightin’ against them outlaws with my brother, I was surprised a little thing like her had it in her. The rest of them are already startin’ all kinds of problems.”

  “Speakin' of problems. I know the anniversary of Malia's death is coming up, Sam. I don't want you drinking so much that you—” Jesse stopped talking as Sam tossed another shot down the hatch. Sam frowned into the empty glass with bloodshot eyes.

  "How I grieve my daughter is no one else's business."

  "It is our business if this situation ends in someone else getting hurt.”

  “All I want is for everyone to leave me the hell alone,” Sam complained.

  “Everyone? Even Mary Ann? Because the two of you have been the talk of the town since her brother died, Sam. People are starting to look at her differently, and that’s your fault.”

  “Mary is a grown woman. I reckon she can handle herself.”

  “She can fight with the best of them, and her aim is almost as good as Abigail’s, but that don’t mean she’s strong on the inside,” Jesse scoffed. “And I don’t need to remind you what happened the last time you pointed them red eyes at the wrong woman. Savannah fell for your charms and paid the price...I don’t want to dig Mary Ann out of a burning building, Sam.”

  Sam cursed the burning behind his eyes as Jesse tossed back a shot. The other man’s words hung in the air between them like a thick fog over a placid lake. Sam feared speaking, for he didn’t know what demons hiding in the darkness of his mind might come forward. The last thing he wanted was to ruin his friendship with Jesse. He cleared his throat and forced himself to say something. “I won’t hurt Mary Ann.”

  “Look, Sam, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “No,” he insisted. “You were right to say somethin’. No one wants the red-eyed demon around them. I shouldn’t have ever thought Mary Ann was any different. You and the others have it easy. You don’t wear the shame of our species. My eyes tell them I ain't human."

  "We can't help the way we were born."

  "No, but we shouldn't be forced to hide either. This is our corner of the west. Our great-grandfathers helped build this town and fought to keep the people safe," Sam sighed. "Who has spilled more blood for the humans than us?"

  "You don't see yourself as a man?"

  "The things I've done and seen make me less of a human than the people walkin' among us, Jesse." Sam tossed his glass aside and grabbed the bottle of liquor. He stumbled to his feet, boots crunching the glass beneath him as he slurred his words. "I ain't Boone. My brother went down a righteous path, and I became a bloodthirsty heathen. Don’t expect too much from me.”

  ~*~

  Sunlight seared his eyeballs. Sam rolled onto his stomach with an irritable groan, but the soft moan in his ear caused him to tense. He cracked open an eyelid and peered over at the curtain of long hair fanned over the pillows. The pale pink lace that lined the linens was a sure sign that he hadn’t made it home the night before. Sam shifted quietly and climbed out of bed, careful not to sneeze or gag as the cloying scent of rose perfume assaulted his sensitive nose.

  A fierce headache pounded in his temples as he crept across the floor and out the window. His companions often jested about his inability to use doors properly. Sam reckoned it was much smarter than being seen sneaking out a lady’s front door in the early hours of the morning. He leaped three levels down and landed on the soft pads of his bare feet before yanking up his trousers.

  Sam hurried around the corner without a shirt and his boots slung over his shoulder. He bumped into someone, barely catching them before they hit the ground. Once the woman was steady on her feet and Sam’s eyes focused, he cursed his poor luck. “Mary...look, I can explain—”

  She took a lingering glance at the scratches that marred his shoulders and the dark bruises peppering his neck. “No need,” Mary Ann cut in. Her blank stare flickered to the house behind him just as Bonnie Waters poked her head out the front door. Sam rushed to explain, but Mary Ann set off down the road without sparing a second glance his way.

  “It ain’t fair if you don’t let me explain.”

  “There’s no need to explain, Samuel. You got drunk again. I can smell the whiskey on your breath. And I know when you’re drinking that you just can’t help yourself.” She shrugged and, for some reason he could not fathom, her lack of irrational anger made him furious. He wanted her to care that he had gone home with another woman. He wanted Mary Ann to look at women like Bonnie Waters and be upset. Sam wanted Mary Ann to feel something other than content.

  Wolves were nothing if not observant, and Sam had watched as Mary Ann numbed to the world each day. He felt helpless. He could not keep her from going down the path that he had wandered for a long time. Sam knew grief like no one else, so he followed Mary Ann. He tugged on his boots and was smacked in the chest by a shirt the second he walked into the bakery. Mary Ann busied herself around the shop as she tried to ignore him.

  “You’re upset,” he huffed, doing up the buttons at the neck of one of his shirts he had left at Mary Ann’s several weeks ago. “And that’s how it starts. Every little thing is gonna piss you off, sweetheart, and then you’re goin’ to lose your ability to feel at all. Want to know what comes after that? Huh? Well, I’ll tell you. It’s an unforgivin’ abyss of darkness that’s ready to swallow you up whole. It’ll eat away at you slowly until all you can do is think about ways to end it.”

  “Shut up.”

  “No, you need to hear this.”

  “Get out of my shop.”

  Sam shook his head and tried his best to tidy his appearance. The taste of bile and liquor was still thick on his tongue, but he swallowed that down. He crept deeper into the small shop and grabbed Mary Ann. “You need to get angry, Mary. You need to feel betrayed and furious that I had the nerve to even look in another w
oman’s direction. I know you love me and I know—”

  The sharp crack that rang in his ears was followed by the prickle of pain against his cheek. Sam released Mary Ann and stepped back. She glanced down at the faint red blotches on her arm where he had grabbed her. Sam’s heart broke into a million pieces, and he swept her up into his arms. She clung to him, wetting his shirt with the constant stream of her tears. "You promised," she sobbed. "You said you would not do that to me again. I understand if you can't find it in your heart to love me back, but at least pretend that I mean somethin' at all."

  "You mean everythin' to me, Mary. I ain’t like Wesley, all right? I can see the way you love me; I feel it even when I can’t feel anythin’ else. You own whatever is left of the man you fell in love with. I wish I could tell you things will be different or that I could change, but I can't bring myself to lie to you like that."

  She wiggled free of his arms, and Sam bent over a little to kiss the fading outline of his fingers. Mary Ann wiped her tears and got back to work as he shuffled on home. Silver Fox Ranch was the biggest spread in the region. Boone ran the entire place with the help of their friends Jesse and Wesley. Sam wanted no part in any of his legacy. Boone could have the ranch.

  The servants and workers wandered around the property to get started on the daily grind. He pushed open the front door and hurried upstairs so that no one could see the shameful state of his appearance. Sam stopped just outside of Abigail and Boone’s room when he heard a sniffle. He knocked softly and then cracked open the door. Abigail used her sleeve to dab away the tears, but Sam had seen them. “Everythin’ all right, Doc?”

  She nodded with a kind smile. “I’m just worried about Charlotte, that’s all.”

  “Charlotte will be back soon. Beth and Wesley will find her. Don’t you worry about that.”

  “Thanks, Sam. You’re a better man than you know.”

  He shook his head and closed the door once more.

  Chapter Three

  Mary Ann missed Sam. He hadn’t come around in over three days, and that wasn’t like him. No matter how mad they got at one another, they always came back as if nothing had ever happened. Mary Ann closed up the shop at six o’clock exactly and set off down the road. She heard the bang and clang of the train pulling into the station. Her heart warmed when she saw Ruth step onto the platform. Mary Ann hurried over to greet the nervous young woman.

  “Hello,” she said softly. “My name is Mary Ann Pearl. I’m a friend of Jesse Porter. He asked me to greet you at the station.”

  The young woman nodded but kept her eyes low to not meet Mary Ann’s gaze. “My name is Ruth, Miss. No surname just yet.”

  Mary Ann frowned at that. She took the young girl’s arm, feeling Ruth startle at the contact, and picked up her bags. Ruth attempted to take them from her grasp, but Mary Ann wanted to make a point. “Now, I’m sure the Emancipation didn’t do much to change what you went through down in Georgia, but you have nothin’ to fear here. If you lift your head and look around, you’ll see that folks headin’ home ain’t payin’ you no mind. And if you look over there…” She pointed to Teddy Murphy’s boy Leo, who had stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of Ruth. “That young man there is absolutely smitten already.”

  “I...I ain’t never looked into the eyes of a white man before unless he asks me to.”

  “Well, I’m sure you did what you had to do to survive, but you’re here in Wolf Valley to live, not just survive,” Mary Ann chuckled. She walked Ruth to her home. “I’m afraid you arrived at the start of our new curfew, so you’ll have to stay here for the night. I’ve got a spare room you can sleep in and extra linens in the chest at the foot of the bed.”

  They trudged up the stairs, and Mary Ann opened the bedchamber door.

  “When will I see Mr. Porter?”

  “I’ll take you out to the ranch tomorrow mornin’,” she replied. “I’ve got some business there anyway. I’m good friends with the men of Silver Fox Ranch.”

  “Do you know about them?”

  Mary Ann knew exactly what the girl meant. “I do.”

  Ruth relaxed a bit and sat on the edge of the bed. “I saw it. A group of white men were trying to hurt me. Mr. Porter changed into a wolf and killed them. After that, he promised to take care of me, but I could not ask any questions about what had happened.”

  “It happened a long time ago after a smaller tribe broke away from the Apache. They lived in this region long before outsiders and pilgrims ever set down roots. This land was flourishin’ and the natives were free to do as they pleased before the laws of the modern world interfered. But the ships arrived on the shores, and powerful men sought to conquer these territories for themselves. Three bloodlines came upon the tides of war. James, Cassady, and Porter.”

  Ruth sat up a little straighter and listened intently to Mary Ann’s retelling of the tale.

  “Their great-grandfathers came along with the Spaniards. After a while, the founders of this nation asked them to spy for them. In doing so, they found the tribe in this territory and they took the land from them by force. The land the ranch is built upon was a burial ground for an Apache Shaman’s people,” Mary Ann said. “The spirits of the tribe’s ancestors demanded that the men who took their land pay for spillin’ the blood of their tribe and claiming sacred land.”

  “How did they become wolves?” Ruth asked quietly.

  “The bloodlines of Porter, James, and Cassady were cursed to live forever with evil spirits inside of them, makin’ them restless and ensurin’ that they would never see the afterlife. Decades went by, and the curse made them shells of the men they once were. They begged for death. And one night, they searched for the remainin’ members of the tribe and asked for forgiveness.”

  Mary Ann sat beside Ruth and continued.

  “The elders of the tribe told them that they had to speak with the ancestors that dwelled at the peak of the mountain. Alexander Eugene Cassady, Sam and Boone Cassady’s great-grandfather, climbed to the top of the mountain. He wept towards the moon and prayed to be released from his burden. Sam told me that the ancestors promised to break the curse if the three bloodlines agreed to fulfill a prophecy.”

  “A prophecy?”

  Mary Ann nodded. “The three men were given women from the tribe to bear their first sons. They laid with the Apache women and returned to their lives until they were summoned by the tribe again. They were instructed to climb to the mountain’s peak and were given their sons. The men thought their curses were broken, but it wasn’t true.”

  “What happened?”

  “The spirit of the wolf was now part of their legacy, but it never presented itself. The tribe needed four male children that were worthy of the spirit of the wolf. So, the men lived long, empty lives. And then Boone Cassady was born. He was bigger and stronger than the other children. Jesse Porter and Wesley James were as well. They grew together, formin’ some sort of pack between them. And then Sam Cassady came into this world. His glowin’ red eyes proved that spirit of the wolf was alive and well within the boys,” Mary Ann explained. “They were worthy where the others had failed.”

  “Was the curse broken?”

  “Not quite,” she sighed. “Their great-grandfathers carried the four boys up to the mountain and presented them to the ancestors. They were given the freedom of death that they had craved for many years. One by one, the generations of Cassady, James, and Porter died. They left behind four frightened boys who went their entire lives thinkin’ that they were cursed.”

  “The wolf is not a curse?” Ruth’s brow furrowed in confusion.

  “No. The curse died with their grandfathers, but the spirit of the wolf was to remain inside of Boone, Sam, Jesse, and Wesley until the prophecy was complete. Until recently, no one knew what that prophecy was. Itsá, the Apache shaman, received a message from his ancestors that the four men had to ensure that the bloodlines continued so that the spirit of the wolf remained strong.” Mary Ann lifted her skirt slight
ly and showed a pale mark on her ankle. “A storm came. I was in a wagon with my brother and three other women. My brother died in the wreck.”

  “I am very sorry to hear that, Miss.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered. Mary Ann cleared her throat and traced the mark with the tip of her finger. “I’ve had this my entire life. Sam has a matchin’ one on his right shoulder. For a long time, neither of us knew what it meant. We were close...too close after a while. We realized what it meant when Sam, Boone, Wesley, and Jesse saved the four of us women after the storm. Fate or somethin’ like it had brought us all together.”

  “Why?”

  “The prophecy says that we’re mates to the four men, that we will become the alpha females of the four packs that are supposed to be formed once peace is established,” she said with a shrug. “Abigail and Boone are already married. Charlotte and Wesley are perfect for one another, even if they cannot see it themselves. Me? I’ve always known that Sam was the one for me, but I was always the right girl at the wrong time.”

  At Ruth’s confusion, Mary Ann explained, “Sam and Boone were grown men the day I was born. I first met Boone when I was eleven. I used to follow him everywhere. Sam and I hadn’t met until I was around your age, but he thought I was just young and naive. He moved away for a long time, and I was stuck here pinin’ after a man who didn’t want me.”

  “Pardon me, but that’s some bad luck, Miss.”

  Mary Ann chuckled and bobbed her head in agreement. “You’re right. The worst part was when Sam returned to Wolf Valley, he was married to a woman named Savannah. She was pregnant with their little girl, and he was tryin' to turn his life around. When our eyes met, I knew nothin' would ever be the same."

  "You said the packs would form after peace was established. What does that mean? The town seems peaceful enough." Ruth stood and unbuttoned her pelisse before laying it over the back of the chair that sat in the corner of the room.

  "We're at war," Mary Ann said honestly. "There is a second part of the prophecy. One that talks about dark spirits comin’ to destroy this world. We’ve already met one. The Wendigo Spirit. I won’t get into that with you; I’m sure Jesse will tell you all you need to know. So long as you’re with them, you should be safe.”