Desert Yule

by Anna Lowe

  She scraped her heels against the coarse stone floor and fought back a frown. She had a great legacy to pass on, too, as Mistress of the Hunt. No one else could do what she could. No one else could guide survivors of ever-dwindling species to safety the way she could.

  No one ever would, if she didn’t pass the gift on to a daughter of her own.

  She scraped harder, gazing into the crackling flames of the hearth. It was one thing to bear the burden of responsibility that came with her gift, but knowing she’d fail to pass it on…

  Rae pulled in a long, slow breath. She wasn’t just the only one of her kind. She was the last of her kind.

  She gave herself a little shake.

  We’ll just have to work twice as hard, then, she told her inner wolf.

  The beast nodded slowly, mournfully. I guess we will.

  Zack’s hand came to rest on her thigh, and a little beam of sunshine broke through her gloom. She was lucky to have her mate. Lucky to have this version of a life instead of the thousand ugly alternatives that could have come to pass if fate hadn’t let her win her mate.

  She leaned left, resting her head on Zack’s shoulder, and he tilted his head back. She closed her eyes and concentrated on his touch, his warmth. Shutting everything away but the snap and crackle of the fire, the slow rise and fall of his chest as Zack breathed in time with her.

  The bustle of the room receded. Behind closed eyes, she could pretend the fireplace was an extra-large version of her fireplace at home. Slowly, everything shrank down until it was just her and him and the encompassing warmth that promised everything would be all right.

  She found Zack’s hand, held it close to her belly, and snuggled a little closer.

  Minutes passed, or maybe hours. Her inner wolf gradually settled down, turning in three circles then curling up for a nap. Another cozy Christmas with her mate.

  Zack’s finger twitched over her thigh, and she squeezed his hand.

  It twitched again, and the steady beat of Zack’s heart skipped.

  Look, he murmured.

  She didn’t want to look. She wanted this escape, this hiding place.

  Look, Zack insisted in a voice twinged with wonder. Enough that she lifted a reluctant eyelid and peered out.

  Zack was staring into the flames. His fingers stroked over hers faster than before.

  She looked into the crackling fire and followed the flurry of sparks hurrying upward and onward. Studied the steady pulse of the fire, the ashy outlines of logs.

  Close your eyes and look, Zack said. Which didn’t make sense, but the shake in his voice made her obey.

  She let her eyes slide shut again, allowing the fire to play on in her mind. Easy enough, with the real thing blazing only a few steps away. The flames wavered and interwove like water in a stream, joining and separating only to rush together again.

  Look. Zack’s voice rose.

  She was about to ask what there was to see with her eyes closed when she caught it. A flicker behind the flames. A reflection? No, a vision of her and Zack, stretched out on the thick rug in front of the fireplace at home. They were nestled together under a blanket with their legs intertwined, their naked bodies flush from shoulders to hips. There was a bowl of popcorn over on her side of the rug, and a scattering of clothes left carelessly where they’d been discarded in a rush.

  Rae hummed in recognition, because she knew that scene. It had played out a hundred times already and would unfold in exactly the same way a hundred times again. They’d come home from a hunt, or a tracking job, or work around the ranch, and ease their weariness away with an hour of snuggling, touching, and whispering on the rug. The high of sex would leave them both with a glow, and they’d fall asleep in each other’s arms.

  But something was different about the scene. The room seemed more cluttered, for one thing. A couple of bright pillows lay tossed across the couch along with a rose-colored blanket that was new. A tiny, furry shape peeked out from underneath one.

  She squinted at the vision in her mind. A vision of the future. That much, she got. The details were hazy, though. Was that a cat curled up on the couch?

  She frowned. A teddy bear. Maybe one of their godchildren had been visiting and forgotten—

  The Zack in her vision sat up on the rug, and the blanket fell away, exposing his bare chest. He leaned over her sleepy form, delivered a kiss, and then stretched toward the teddy bear. Plucked it straight off the couch and swung it over to his left…

  The camera of her mind’s eye panned wider, revealing a basket. Wait, not a basket. A bassinet. She held her breath. Zack’s lips moved as he murmured something, though all she heard was the fire pulsing in her ears. He held the teddy bear over the bassinet and peered in. The vision shifted so she could peer in, too, and see—

  Look, she cried into Zack’s mind.

  I see it, his choked-up voice replied. I see.

  The world’s most perfect child, or so Rae thought as her heart thumped in her chest. Her hand clutched her mate’s as she took in the image of a child swaddled in a pink blanket, blinking back at her. A tiny pink hand reached up and grabbed the finger Zack extended in the vision. A huge smile stretched over her mate’s face, and Rae looked up.

  The huge smile was there in real life, too. Not just in the vision dancing at the edge of the flames.

  “Beautiful,” she murmured. Well, she tried to murmur, but there was a huge lump in her throat and tears in her eyes. How many times had she held her prey still and forced it to listen to the whisper of Mother Earth? How many times had she willed another being to understand? Now she was the one being whispered to, being reassured.

  Zack slid his arm over her shoulders. He pulled her closer, and they both watched the future flickering in the fireplace. The dining hall was a flurry of activity behind them as the gift-giving began, but all of if it was muffled to a distant hum, like the song of crickets beyond the glowing edge of a campfire.

  “It’s real, isn’t it?” she managed to whisper at last.

  “It will be.” Zack nodded, watching the scene. “It will be.”

  Rae let out a slow, shaky breath, and the two of them hung on to each other, watching the flames.

  “Merry Christmas, everyone!” somebody called behind them, and a whole chorus of voices broke out, echoing the words.

  Tina’s voice carried bright and clear above the general din. “Merry Christmas!”

  “Merry Christmas!” Cody’s warm tenor rose above the rest.

  “Merry Christmas,” Ty rumbled, not too far away.

  Rae snuggled closer to her mate, still intent on the vision hovering at the edge of the flames. “Merry Christmas,” she whispered—twice. Once for the baby and once for her mate.

  Chapter Seven

  Carly looked around the dining hall. “Where did Dad wander off to?”

  Cody shrugged. “Went home, I guess.”

  “You guess?”

  Her brother took another sip of wine and went back to kissing his mate.

  Carly rolled her eyes. The Christmas party had reached the point when the feast was reduced to scraps, the fire down to embers, the gift wrap brutally ripped apart and discarded by children intent on the goodies inside. The singles had long since waved their goodbyes and headed off for a different kind of fun—the kind she wasn’t getting tonight—and the couples were snuggled up in little bubbles of mated happiness that made her want to head for the nearest bar and hit the strong stuff. After which she’d do a little dancing, find a cowboy with just the right moves, and—

  “Auntie Carly! Auntie Carly!”

  That was the worst part—the kids were still going strong, semi-high on the buzz of too much dessert and too much excitement.

  Tana and Holly came skipping up and grabbed her hand. “There’s one more present! Look! Look!”

  She followed them to the tree, where Holly crawled under the lowest boughs and backed out with a one last gift.

  “See? See?”

  Carly to
ok the thin envelope of a package, turned it over in her hands, and examined the chicken scratch in one corner.

  “It’s for Grandpa!” Tana clapped.

  Holly jumped up and down. “We made it for him!”

  “We have to bring it to him!” Tana declared.

  Carly looked around. She’d spent most of the day with her dad—a new personal record—and that had been plenty.

  “Cody!” she called. Let her brother do the dirty work for a change.

  Cody went right on grinning dreamily at his mate, and Heather grinned right back.

  Useless, those two.

  “Ty!” she tried.

  Ty was so busy nuzzling his mate’s ear by the fireplace, his hearing appeared to have switched off.

  Great.

  “Ti—” she started.

  Tina just stuck out a hand in a stop sign. All Carly could see was her sister’s back and the one hand stuck up, saying, No way. Rick’s arms were wrapped so far around her body, they overlapped, and it was obvious those two wouldn’t be unraveling any time soon.

  She looked around the dining hall. Rae and Zack were staring into the embers like the most fascinating movie in the world was playing there. Kyle and Stef were helping their baby swat at his new toy, a kiddie jungle gym thing. Honestly, did that have to be a two-wolf job?

  Fine. She was just going to have to deliver the present herself.

  “Great,” she grumbled, taking the girls’ hands.

  “Great!” Tana cheered. “We’re going to Grandpa’s!”

  Carly shook her head. As kids, she and her siblings had dragged their heels whenever they were called to their dad’s place. Apparently, this new generation hadn’t yet figured out what a grinch the old man was.

  “Great!” Holly echoed.

  Before Carly knew it, she was saddled up with three kids. Holly’s little sister Sammie insisted on coming along, too, which translated to riding piggyback on Carly out into the night and down the path to her father’s house on the edge of the ranch. The farthest edge from Ty and Lana’s house, with Heather and Cody’s home placed equally far away on another point of an invisible triangle. No coincidence there.

  A three-quarters-full moon shone over the high-altitude desert, and winter’s chill lent a certain peace to it all. They wound along the narrow walkway between bushy brambles flanking her father’s house and knocked on the door.

  “Grandpa! Grandpa!”

  Carly pulled back a step, putting a hand over Sammie’s ears in anticipation of the bellow that was sure to come next.

  The door creaked open, and her father appeared with a scowl.

  Carly sighed and steeled herself. Here we go. Ho, ho, ho, Dad.

  His gaze jumped from adult eye level to lower down, and he stopped in midgrowl.

  “Oh,” he mumbled, missing a beat.

  “Grandpa!” Tana jumped up and down in delight.

  “Grandpa!” Holly waved the gift.

  “Now, what’s this?” he grumbled as the kids piled into the house.

  Carly stood blinking momentarily. No shouts? No murderous looks? No threats?

  “We brought you your present!” Holly wrapped her hand around the tree trunk of his arm and pulled him along, smiling like a million bucks because Holly was sunshine and happiness and believed in good things.

  “Yeah, Grandpa,” Tana said, backing him into his recliner by the fireplace until he had no choice but to sit down. She slid into his lap without waiting for an invitation, because Tana was tough and ballsy and good at giving orders. “A present. For you!”

  Carly followed cautiously. Apparently, the kids hadn’t yet learned what a curmudgeon the old man could be.

  “Open it, Grandpa!”

  He turned the package over in his hands. Twice.

  “It’s a present! We made it for you!”

  He turned it over again. “For me?”

  “Mommy helped us make it,” Holly explained.

  “Open it!” Tana urged him.

  He grumbled softly and started peeling back the tape at one corner. Slowly, carefully, like the goddamn Mona Lisa might be hiding inside.

  Carly’s eyes wandered the dark room. It was gloomy as ever, with the usual collection of rocks along the mantelpiece. Rocks and…something new. She leaned closer. A framed photo of some kind.

  She blinked and glanced at her father, then back at the picture. It was the family picture taken at Thanksgiving, with all the kids and all her siblings and Aunt Jean. She’d seen Lana give it to him with a hopeful smile at the party, but the old man had simply set it aside, still wrapped, and took another slug of whiskey, uninterested.

  Or maybe not so uninterested, because it already had a place of honor on the mantelpiece, and he had it angled just right to see from his chair.

  Huh.

  “What’s this?” her father asked.

  Carly tore her gaze from the photo, just in case. Her father didn’t like to be caught in the act of loving anyone, not even his own family.

  “It’s a por…por-folio,” Tana announced proudly.

  “Portfolio,” he grumbled, extracting a sheaf of colorful papers from the gift wrap.

  Tana didn’t miss a beat. “We made it for you. We all did!”

  Holly was already turning the pages for him. “See?”

  The first page had a blue handprint on yellow paper, with T-A-N-A scratched alongside. The second had a smaller handprint in red, with crooked letters that identified the artist as Holly.

  “That one’s Sammie’s,” Holly narrated, leafing past the next one, labeled with a swirly line.

  “Mine!” Sammie pointed. “Mine!”

  Carly smiled. It figured that Heather had organized a gift like that. Next year they’d probably give the old man a spaghetti necklace. If they dared.

  “And there’s Tyler’s,” Tana went on. “But he’s too little to do it himself, so Mommy put his hand in the paint and wrote his name.”

  Carly hid a grin. The girls loved being the oldest and wisest of their generation.

  Holly turned another page and stuck a finger out.

  “That one’s mine. Look!”

  “What is that?” Her dad squinted at the stick figure on the next page.

  Carly shot him a warning look.

  “It’s you, Grandpa! Look!”

  “That’s me?”

  Holly pointed. “There’s your nose. There’re your eyes…”

  There’s your frown, Carly thought.

  “And the cookies you always give us when Mommy isn’t looking,” Holly went on.

  Her father shot a sidelong glance at Carly and shifted his elbow so she couldn’t see the page.

  She cocked an eyebrow at him. Cookies? She never got cookies as a kid…

  Tana clapped for her cousin. “Isn’t it nice?”

  Old Tyrone grunted and turned the page. Tana bounced with excitement. “That’s mine! I made it!”

  “And what do we have here?”

  Carly’s head snapped around, because the way he said it was actually…gentle. Okay, not quite gentle, but nowhere near as bristly as usual.

  “Your house, Grandpa! Your house!”

  He tilted his head at the geometric patterns on the page.

  Tana pointed. “And there we are visiting you! Me and Mommy and Daddy and Tyler…”

  He traced the drawing with his eyes, then a finger. Ran his thumb along the edge of the page. Pursed his lips and stayed on the page a very long time before solemnly turning to the next masterpiece, where he spent another couple of quiet minutes. Then he turned back to the beginning and did it all over again while the kids narrated a dozen details to him.

  “There’s a cloud, and there’s the mesa…”

  “And Maxie! Do you see Maxie? He’s barking…”

  The black smudge didn’t look anything like the dog, but who cared when Holly was so excited about the result?

  “Isn’t it nice?” Tana prompted.

  The old man was a veteran o
f a hundred shifter battles. A man who’d invested blood and sweat—but never, ever a tear—into making Twin Moon Ranch what it was. A man who led his pack with iron resolve and never stopped to smell the flowers or to pat someone on the pack.

  “It’s beautiful,” he murmured.

  Carly drew in a slow breath, etching the moment into her mind.

  Her father went back to the cover, which had one handprint from each grandchild. He nodded and spoke again in that same hushed tone. “Beautiful.”

  Tana leaned in and kissed his scruffy chin. “Merry Christmas, Grandpa!”

  “Merry Christmas,” he rumbled, brushing Tana’s ruddy cheek.

  Holly patted his back exactly the way she rubbed Maxie’s. “Merry Christmas, Grandpa!”

  “Merry Christmas, sweetie.”

  Carly’s heart climbed a rung higher in her throat. And when her dad’s heavily lined eyes rose to hers, it climbed again.

  He cleared his throat gruffly, then murmured, “Merry Christmas, Carly.”

  She gulped and whispered back, “Merry Christmas, Dad.”

  * * *

  I hope you enjoyed Desert Yule and that you’ll leave a review on Amazon and/or Goodreads. Reviews help readers make informed choices, and they also help an independent author’s work reach a broader audience. Thank you!

  The next two books in the Twin Moon Ranch series, Desert Rose and Desert Roots, are some of the best in the series, so get your copies today! Desert Rose (Book 5) features the world’s sweetest boar shifter, Axel, who rushed in to save Tina and Rick at the conclusion of Desert Heart. Axel has yet to fight the battle of his life in Desert Rose. And as for Carly…let’s just say she better enjoy being single while she can, because her love story is coming up in Book 6, Desert Roots!.