by Haley Weir
"Anyone else startin' to see a pattern here?" Sam scoffed. "I'd wager we need Charlotte to cast some of her power onto a few rifles to level the battlefield a little bit more."
"How can Charlotte help if she is not part of a tribe?"
Wesley gestured to himself. "Look at the four of us," he said. "None of us really look native, but we've got the blood in our veins. Perhaps Charlotte is the same."
Sam felt Mary Ann shift uncomfortably. He didn't know if it was the idea of magic that made her uneasy or the thought of using Charlotte to make weapons. He looked over at her. Though Mary Ann was taller and her curves were more pronounced than the other women, Sam saw both her fragility and her strength. He had seen her heart and tasted her tears.
"This still doesn't solve our problem." Beth stood up. "Charlotte needs to come back, and I don't think she will so long as Wesley don't apologize to her."
Just then, Sam felt unfamiliar energy...an unmatched power step onto their land. He glanced over at Jesse as the other cowboy moved away from the window. He stumbled back and looked at Wesley with pure shock written on his face. “Charlotte just rode into the stables with Itsá and another Apache man. I’ve never seen him before, but I think we better be prepared just in case.”
“Charlotte would not do anything to put the ranch in danger,” Wesley snapped.
“That ain’t the tune you were singing a few days ago, partner.” Jesse quirked his brow at Wesley. “We need to be prepared if she ain’t in control of herself. As much as Itsá has helped us over the years, he has a cunning way about him that I don’t quite trust just yet.”
Sam stood up and moved over to the door. He pushed it open and stared out into the darkness until his gaze stopped on the three figures that stood beneath the lantern light that hung outside the stables. "The other male is a shifter. Nothin' I've come across around here before."
Boone stood up and grabbed a lantern from the table. He walked out the back door and ran over to the stables. Sam balked as his older brother pulled Charlotte into a firm embrace. It wasn't long before the others raced out to the stables to greet their friend. Sam followed Mary Ann and hung back while she hugged Charlotte too. "Glad to have you back, Charlotte," Sam grumbled.
"You too, Cassady." The way she looked at him was different. As if he were a puzzle she could not figure out. The Charlotte that left the ranch as a broken woman was nowhere in sight. Instead, there was a warrior standing in her place. Wesley seemed oblivious to the changes in his mate...he and Charlotte were married. Boone had also married his mate. Sam peeked out the corner of his eye at Mary.
She wiped a few tears from her eyes, and the world faded. Sam didn't notice when the others went inside. He saw nothing but the way the amber light of the lamp illuminated Mary Ann's face. Flecks of snow clung to her eyelashes. The rosy blush on her cheeks made him feel breathless. Is this love? He wondered. Sam gravitated towards his mate and dipped his head. She met his lips in a warm, gentle kiss that was far more potent than any liquor at the saloon.
"How do you do it, Mary?" Sam asked as he pulled away. His forehead rested against hers. Their breath mingled in a beautiful swirl of smoke.
"How do I do what?"
Her plump, kiss-swollen lips were the greatest temptation. "One kiss from you and my demons don't seem so loud in the darkness. You bring me peace, Mary."
The smile that formed upon those lips he adored so much stole what was left of the air in his lungs. "Let's go inside a moment. Someone might come lookin' for us if we don't hurry." She stole one last kiss and ran for the door. Sam gave chase, submitting to his wolfish instincts for a moment. He grabbed Mary Ann and kissed her properly before she dashed into the dining room, where everyone gathered once again.
The plan to make more weapons and track down the witches was tasked to Charlotte. After Wesley dragged his wife up the stairs to talk, Boone glared over at Sam. "Don't you think you're standin' a little close to Mary?" he sneered.
"Actually, I'm exactly where I'm comfortable at the moment."
Boone stood up and, once again, Mary Ann stepped between them as if they weren't big enough to crush her. "Boone, back off! It's none of your business what Sam does."
"You continue to defend him? After the way he's always treated you?"
Mary Ann stood her ground. "I will always choose him, Boone. I love you like a brother, but the more you push Sam away, the more you push me away."
~*~
Mary Ann meant every word. Though Boone looked stricken by the way she defended his brother, it was important for them all to know what her position in the group was...and that was at Sam's side. She wasn't Charlotte or Wesley. Mary Ann had no intention of running from the man she loved. He could keep her at a distance all he wanted, but he would get nothing but love and compassion from her. Sam liked to paint himself as the villain, to guard his heart behind snark and brutish behavior. He expected anger and resentment, for others to curl their lip at him and turn their backs. But Mary Ann refused to be like all the others.
Boone scoffed and returned to his seat. “Whatever you say, Mary Ann.”
Abigail stood behind her husband’s chair and placed a hand upon his shoulder. “I think we should discuss what to do if Wesley and Charlotte can’t get on the same page.”
“What do you mean?” Jesse asked.
“I have no doubt that Charlotte will do whatever it takes to put an end to those witches. It’s Wesley that I’m worried about.” Abigail’s expression fell. “If he can’t get control of his emotions, I fear he may do something to put our plans at risk. I see so much anger inside of him that I hope will not be destructive.”
Everyone knew better than to question Abigail’s instincts, or gift, as Itsá often called it. She was able to read intentions, emotions, and certain situations so well that Mary Ann had wondered if Abigail had a bit of witch in her as well. Abigail was rarely wrong. If she thought Wesley was too on edge to be trusted with something as delicate as taking out the coven, then they would be wise to believe her. Boone pointed to the journal that still sat on the table.
“There are other symbols in this book. If we can get our shaman friend to tell us what they mean, maybe we can establish some mystical defenses around the ranch.”
Itsá picked up the book. His brother Gabriel snatched it from his hand. “I’ve learned more sigils than you, brother. I’m sure I know just a bit more than anyone else in here. Not to mention, I happen to know many witches within the tribes.”
Sam noticed that Itsá and Gabriel’s relationship wasn’t nearly as strained as his and Boones, but it wasn’t exactly a warm family bond either. “What else can we do, then? I mean, aside from magic."
"Gabriel can put up the symbols. The rest of you will need to work on your reflexes. As it stands, Beth is the only one quick enough with a blade to kill a wendigo. Wolves tend to stalk and prowl their prey...that won't work with the wendigo. As for the witches, there is not much that can be done by any of you. This is Charlotte's responsibility. You should focus on your own lives for now."
"Listen, with all due respect," Sam said. "We ain't just goin' to sit around and watch our friends go through this alone."
"Oh. Now you're thinkin' about doin' what's best for others." Boone's snort grated against Mary Ann's nerves.
"What Sam is tryin' to say is that we're goin' to keep workin' towards a solution to our problems even if it means puttin' ourselves in danger." Mary Ann had not even attempted to hide the venom in her voice or shy away from the challenge within Boone's gaze. "We stand by our friends no matter what."
"Good," Itsá chuckled. "Now that we finally have that decided, I can visit the mountain to tell the ancestors that you are all ready to begin. The only way to set things right is to do it together."
"You were testin' us?" Sam asked.
Itsá nodded. "Yes. The next spirit will come soon, and none of us are prepared for the darkness set to befall this world."
Mary Ann looked to Gabriel and noticed that the other
shifter was quite nervous. "I have a feelin' you ain't tellin' us everythin'."
"I am starting to get the same feeling," Abigail said supportively. "What is wrong? It has to do with Charlotte, doesn't it?"
"The Wendigo Spirit was able to control her before, to use her as a puppet until she was forced to spill innocent blood. She is stronger now, but I fear the other dark spirits might look at her as a weapon."
"Is she dangerous?" Sam asked.
This time, it was Gabriel that answered. "Yes. All magic is dangerous. All magic and power have the potential to be corrupted. But I believe your friend is strong enough to resist. She knows what is at stake."
Mary Ann's head ached fiercely. She took Sam's hand and led him back through the door. "Let's go home.”
“I used to think this was my home.”
“And now?”
Sam wrapped his arm around her shoulder as they walked out into the cold. “Now, you’re my home, Mary.” There was no wagon for them to ride back into town. After the witches attacked, Boone sent the other cowboys on the cattle trails with the herd. The ranch hands and servants were given the choice to leave until working was safe or to remain on the property with new restrictions. Most of the workers had shown great loyalty by choosing to stay. Silver Fox Ranch was as much their home as it was to Sam, Boone, Wesley, and Jesse.
Mary Ann helped Sam saddle his mare. He climbed into position before pulling her up to ride behind him. She snuggled up to his back and soaked up the warmth that radiated from his coat. Sam held her hand as they trotted along the dirt road that led into town.
Chapter Eleven
Colorado Territory
Ethan Tate stood at the edge of the forest, staring out at the meadow as Charlotte James appeared. He knew she would come. The curiosity of witches never failed to amaze him, and Charlotte was the most curious of them all. He had the pleasure of observing her torture, of feeding off of her pain and fear as she endured nightmares and constant agony. Such beautiful, exquisite suffering. And yet she was strong, standing at the center of the frozen meadow with the garish trinkets in her hands as she set them aflame with her power.
Kaia was frightened. She should have been.
Even from where he stood, the Wendigo Spirit could feel the raw power wafting off of Charlotte. But she was not the only powerful creature present that day. No, the Skadegamutc had risen. The Wabanaki tribes feared the undead ghost witch the most. Her ability to possess the bodies of dead shamans and use their powers had inspired many tales of magical hags luring unsuspecting victims to their deaths. He sensed her presence, but she made no move to involve herself. She simply watched from the shadow’s edge.
“Do you see the harbinger?” a frail voice asked. But she was far more lethal than her sound or appearance implied.
“Charlotte has grown much stronger, as you predicted.” Ethan peered over his shoulder and saw the shrouded figure that often came to speak words of wisdom in his ear. The creature was neither light nor dark, and that was precisely the problem. No allegiance to anything but itself, the entity could turn the tides of war in any direction. Ethan was wary of her.
“Two of the mates are carrying. Soon one will give birth, and then the other.”
“Which one is the child from your visions?” he asked earnestly.
The shrouded figure stepped forward and lowered her cowl. Ebony skin and dark eyes greeted him as he stared into a youthful face. Her hair was tidy and pulled back, showing a few pale scars that marred her complexion. “You know which of the wolves will be the defiler. I believe it will be his offspring. The bloodlines are strong, yes, but the spirit of the wolf thrives within his vessel the most.”
“Sam.”
She nodded her head and pointed to the Skadegamutc. “It won’t be long now. The other side is getting restless. See to it that things move quickly.”
“I don’t take orders from you. I am a god.”
The creature cocked her head to the side with a sly grin. “And I am the one who devours gods if they fail to do as they are told.” Her eyes flashed, and Ethan jumped back. When he opened his eyes again, the creature was gone. He called for his wendigo to attack, and they flooded the meadow. The wolves and their mates were there, quick to come to Charlotte’s aid.
Among the females was a healer, a fox, a witch, and...
The Wendigo Spirit sensed nothing within the other woman. The mate of Sam Cassady was a mystery to him. Ethan stepped into the field and watched as the shifters collided with his army of wendigo.
~*~
Wolf Valley
Colorado
"How could she be so stupid?" Sam barked as he tossed aside his muddy boots once he stood in the doorway of Mary Ann's home. Charlotte hadn't waited for anyone before tracking down the witches. She went off on her own and fought them, not thinking about how her actions might have left everyone vulnerable to attack. When Sam and the others arrived, they were forced to fight off the witches and another horde of wendigo. Only one of Kaia's witches had been slain, the others disappeared.
The only good to come out of the entire situation had been the realization that the Wendigo Spirit and Kaia feared Charlotte's power. Sam just could not let go of his anger in that moment. "She knows what we're up against."
"You and Charlotte have a lot of similarities, Sam. It's no wonder you and her ain't the best of friends."
"I have no issue with Charlotte except for what she pulled today." Sam removed his jacket and hung it up on the hook beside the door. "And now Wesley is talkin' about takin' her with when he hunts down those bandits."
Mary Ann rolled her eyes and sauntered up the stairs with a sway of her hips. She peeled off her clothing and dropped it as she walked, leaving behind a trail that Sam followed all the way to their bedroom...their bedroom. He stood in the doorway of the bedchamber and pressed a hand to his chest. For a moment, it wasn't Mary Ann he saw crawling onto the covers of the blanket. It was Savannah.
She crawled beneath the linens and crooked her finger at him. "Come keep me warm, Samuel."
But he could not. It was too much. It was far too domestic, felt too much like coming home to see his family after a long day at the ranch. "I can't," Sam sighed. Guilt and nausea churned inside of his stomach. "I gotta go, Mary. I'm sorry. I just need some time to think."
She sighed just as heavily as he had. "You're runnin' again, ain't you?"
"I ain't sure."
Mary Ann stood up and grabbed her robe from the chair in front of her vanity before slipping into it. She walked up to him slowly and removed the talisman from around his neck. "When Charlotte took Wesley's off, it got me thinkin'. You claimed me, Sam. We're together in every way except marriage and commitment. You wore this still. Hopin' it still has some power so you could withhold a bit of yourself from me."
"It ain't like that, Mary…"
"No?" she chuckled. "I guess I should have known this would happen eventually. You were pushed by everybody else to choose me. I ain't mad. I guess I'm just disappointed that I was right in this situation."
Sam stiffened when she reached out to touch him. He still felt the lingering shock. Mary Ann looked wounded, but she smiled and sat on the edge of the bed. "I don't know what to say, Mary. I want to be with you. I want my life to be simple and full of the love you give me, but—”
"I have somethin' to tell you," she interrupted. "It might make you run for the door quicker than you already are. But I want you to know that you don't have to do anythin' about it. I can take care of everythin' with or without you."
"What are you sayin'?"
She took a deep breath and uttered three words he never expected to hear after he had lost his family. "I'm with child." Mary Ann didn’t move an inch as she continued. “I know this has to hurt you. Bringin’ back painful memories can bring out the worst in people, but I hope you understand that I ain’t goin’ nowhere. I’ll be here.”
Sam barely registered anything she said. “You’re havin’ my child?”
“I am.”
“How long have you known?”
Mary Ann blushed profusely and lowered her head. “I suspected when the sickness came, but then Abigail was almost certain when I hadn’t bled in weeks. She says it’s a sign that I’m carryin’ somethin’ precious inside of me.”
“Is this some sort of trick? Some ploy to get me to marry you?” Sam saw Mary Ann flinch, but he was too upset to see her pain. “What do you expect me to do?”
“Honest? I expect you to storm out my front door and grab a bottle of whiskey to soothe your troubled mind,” Mary Ann replied. “Pa taught me to never expect anythin’ from a man but heartbreak, a cold bed, and bruises. He taught me to never hope for anythin’ better than a man who would walk out after he used me dry, to never think I was the only one keepin’ him company when he needed a woman’s touch. But no matter what you choose to do, I’m yours. I’m here if you choose to come back. Even if I have to raise my child on my own and only see you in the fight, I’m ready for anythin’.”
“I ain’t your father, Mary.”
“Maybe not, but Mama would call me a fool for the way I love you if she were alive.” Mary Ann scoffed and handed him a new shirt that wasn’t tattered like the one he wore. Sam stared at her in bewilderment as she climbed back in the bed and turned out the lamp. “Are you comin’ to bed or provin’ me right?”
Sam stood dumbfounded. He didn’t know what else to say to her, so he clutched the shirt tighter in his hand and walked out of the room. Sam could practically hear his brother’s words echoing in his mind. Boone thought he was nothing but a worthless parasite that wasn’t good for anything except causing people grief. And Sam knew Boone was right about him.
Everyone had been right about him.
He made sure to lock the door after he left and walked down to the saloon as Mary Ann predicted. Sam shoved through the swinging doors and stomped over to the bar. He didn't bother asking the server for a drink. Instead, he grabbed a bottle for himself from the shelf and slammed a handful of money on top of the sticky counter before taking a seat near the back. Sam pulled the cork out of the bottle and propped his feet up on the table. He pushed the brim of his hat low over his eyes and sipped from the bottle.
