by Ardy Kelly
“What is it?”
Troy shrugged. “Some people call it wolf magic. Some call the ranch enchanted.”
“What do you call it?”
“I call it home. Shouldn’t home make you feel good?”
“It’s not my home.” Chet turned, and the house across the street caught his attention for the eyesore that it was. The picket fence hadn’t been white for years, the lawn was overgrown, and blue plastic tarps stretched across the roof, sagging in the middle. “What’s that?”
“Oh. That’s Adam’s old house. A tree fell on it during a storm.”
The tarps flapped in the breeze, as if motioning for Chet to come closer.
“It’s vacant?” Chet asked as he approached the gate.
“Yeah. Luke is supposed to inspect it to see if it’s salvageable.”
“It’s salvageable.” Chet climbed the two front stairs onto the front porch, staring at the railing. It was the exact woodworking he had tried to recreate, but could never get the dimensions right.
This was the house in his vision. The only thing missing was David, the babies, and a roof. He pulled his flashlight off his belt and reached for the front door.
“Uh, Sheriff Thompson,” Troy called. “Are you sure my blood isn’t affecting you?”
“This is our house,” Chet said before disappearing inside.
“Our house?” Troy looked across the street. “But I’ve got kids. And a mate. This is so sudden.”
Chet turned, aiming the light at Troy’s face. “David and me. And the babies.”
“Oh, of course.” He hesitated at the doorway. “You want to live here? Across the street from me?”
“I’m as surprised as you are,” Chet answered.
“I hope you don’t plan on sticking me with your badge every day to get through the gate. I’m not a pin cushion.”
“You can go back home,” Chet said. “I want to check the damage.”
“I’m not leaving you alone in here. You could step on a rotten floorboard and plummet to your death, with my name being the last words on your lips.”
“I doubt that’s an issue.”
“Nonetheless, we have a buddy system here on the ranch.” Troy looked back to his home. “Kids,” he called. “Daddy has to do something. Don’t leave the yard.” He stepped inside. “We’ve got ninety seconds before one of them leaves the yard.”
Chet’s flashlight was aimed at the ceiling. The beam spanning the roof had broken in half. Stains ran down the walls where the water had gotten in before someone tarped the hole. The floorboards were warped, but otherwise the house had survived. “It’s got good bones.”
“Contrary to what you may have heard, we don’t build houses with bones.”
“I mean the structure. It’s solid.”
“Good to know,” Troy replied. “Can we go now?”
“Hmm, the kitchen is going to be a problem. No triangle.”
“No kitchen, really.” Troy stuck his head out the door and counted his children before stepping back inside. “I should warn you, I’m doing this at the peril of my own reputation. Imagine if rumors circulated that a mated omega, in the prime of his fertility, was seen alone with an unmated human. The scandal could devastate my reputation.”
“From what I know about your reputation, very little could make it worse.”
“Well, thank you.” Troy excelled at gossip, but sarcasm went over his head.
Chet worked his way through the bedrooms and bathroom before exiting out the back door. The yard behind the house was even more overgrown than the front, with a large, uprooted redwood stump lying on its side.
Troy scratched his head. “You sure David’s going to want to live here?”
Chet shook his head. “Not in a million years.”
Chapter 14
Chet followed Troy’s directions, but it was Lionel who answered the door holding a crying Joshua. “They left fifteen minutes ago. Constance and Raff returned and dragged them all to Mack’s.”
As Chet rushed back to his car, Lionel called, “When you see Diana, ask her to hurry home. Please!”
A quarrel inside Mack’s house prevented anyone from hearing his knocks on the door.
A woman’s voice boomed through the house. “He’s a veterinarian? This is your solution to my son’s pregnancy?”
Must be my new mother-in-law. Chet opened the door and followed the voices to the kitchen.
David was the first to see him. He mouthed, “Save me.”
The woman whose voice carried beyond closed doors pointed at him. “Oh, good. The dog catcher is here. Are you part of the medical team, too?”
Though Chet had never taken de-escalation training, he knew his smile was the safest strategy. “You must be Constance. I’m Chet. The fiancé.”
The smile had no effect on her, but the words did the trick. “You’re the father?”
Chet’s “Yes” drowned out David’s “No.”
“Not the biological father,” Chet explained. “But the father in every other way.”
“You’re not a shifter,” Raff said. “How do you two expect to raise a shifter child?”
“By staying close to the ranch,” Chet said.
“Not too close,” David added.
“Finally,” Constance crowed. “Someone is talking sense.” She stepped closer to Chet and lowered her voice. “No non-shifter has ever survived an omega pregnancy.”
“We can all hear you, Mother,” Diana said. “No need to whisper. And I believe you meant to say no non-shifter has been given the chance to survive an omega pregnancy.”
She ignored her daughter. “It’s imperative he stay on the ranch.” She shot an accusatory glare at Rob. “And that we receive the best medical attention.”
Chet nodded. “Nobody understands your concern better than I. We have already made contact with a shifter doctor a few hours from here. But for the time being, we are very happy with Dr. Rob.”
A new voice rang through the kitchen. “Why do I have to hear about an omega carrying twins from Troy?” Helen stood in the doorway, pissed she hadn’t been invited.
“We just found out today,” Mack explained.
“I don’t see why it’s any of your business,” Constance chided.
Helen gave her a withering glare while dropping a large bag on the kitchen table. “Damn Morehouses,” she mumbled as she sized up David.
Pulling up his shirt, she ran her hands over his belly. “No birthing line. And you shouldn’t have stretch marks this early. That’s what you get for being so thin.” She pulled his shirt back down. “The rumor is you don’t shift.” When David nodded, she swore. “You people always do things ass-backwards.”
Constance stiffened. “I’ll repeat—”
Mack answered before Helen could say something rude. “She is the ranch midwife.”
“You’re planning a cesarean?” Helen asked Rob. When he nodded, she added, “Better stock up on antibiotics. Get some good anesthesia, too. He doesn’t strike me as the grin-and-bear-it type.”
She pointed a bony finger at David. “You need to stay here on the ranch.”
“I’m staying nearby,” David replied.
“Nearby isn’t close enough,” she said. “I want you on the ranch.”
“You can stay with your father,” Constance pronounced.
“Actually,” Chet interjected. “Can Adam’s old place be fixed?” Chet avoided David’s gaze, knowing he wouldn’t like the direction of the conversation.
Mack scratched his head. “I don’t know. I can have Luke and his crew look at it.”
“Luke does construction?” Those were the first words out of Rob’s mouth since Constance arrived.
“Why isn’t anybody listening to me?” David demanded. “I’m not living on the ranch.”
“There it is,” Diana said. “The Morehouse mood swings.”
Constance smiled, shocking her children. “That’s exactly what he’s got. The Morehouse mood swings.”
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“This isn’t a mood swing,” David argued. “This is actual annoyance that no one cares what I think.”
The past twenty-four hours had softened Raff’s opinion of omegas somewhat. “He sounds like you when you were pregnant,” he offered in a noncommittal tone.
Helen nodded. “Early pregnancy can be a lot like demonic possession.”
While David glared, Helen reached into her bag and pulled out a large green tin. “Rub this on your belly twice a day. We need to keep the skin moisturized so it will stretch when you blow up like a balloon.”
“Does he need bed rest?” Chet asked.
“He needs to be up and moving around,” Helen replied. “Gravity will help make room for the twins.”
Chet sensed an argument building in David. He tugged him toward the door. “It’s been great meeting everyone. Let’s talk soon.”
Once outside, Chet asked, “How’s your stomach?”
David let out a breath. “I think it’s getting used to conflict now that I’m fighting for my kids. But if I spend one more minute on the ranch, I will explode. Everybody knows everybody’s business. How does Diana stand it full-time?”
“If you lived here, you might grow to like it,” Chet said off-handedly.
“Never gonna happen.”
“Never say never.” Chet stifled the urge to open David’s door. Don’t piss him off any more than you have to.
“What were all the questions about Adam’s house for?” David asked.
“You’ll see.”
David slid the papers that littered the seat to the middle. “What’s this?”
“Oscar has been scanning and sending me things he’s found in the books.”
David sat and shifted through the pages. “Are these more fey spells?”
“Think so. I wanted to try them on the ranch.”
“Great. Let’s see if you can blow it up.”
Chet drove slowly, as he headed back to Troy’s street. “Do you feel anything different when you’re here?”
“I’m carrying twins. I don’t feel anything normal.”
Chet turned the corner. “Well, I feel a kind of pulsing. I thought it might amplify the magic.” He pulled up in front of the house. “Do me a favor. Look out your window and tell me what you see.”
David turned his head and glanced at the property. “Are you thinking of getting into real estate? Buying the worst house in the best neighborhood?”
Chet waited a beat. “Notice anything?”
“The roof collapsed, the fence is falling down, the yard—” David sucked in a breath. “Don’t tell me.”
“You see it, right?”
David held up a hand. “Just because it looks a little like the house you built does not mean we have to move here.”
“It’s exactly the house in my vision. Once we fix it up.”
David looked out his window. “It’s not a fixer-upper. It’s a tearer-downer. The only thing that could make this place less habitable is if Troy lived next door.”
“I can promise he’s not next door.” He unfastened his seat belt. “Humor me. Even if we don’t move in, as long as everyone thinks we plan on it, they won’t keep bothering us to move to the ranch.”
David stared at Chet before nodding. “It’s a good plan. As long as we agree nothing has been decided.”
“Agreed. Do you want to see inside?”
“No.” David handed Chet the stack of spells. “Take these. You can practice in the yard. Nothing you do could make it look worse.”
“Come and watch. I need a witness.”
Following Chet past the gate, David sat on a lone patch of grass. When his butt began to pulse, he stood. Damn him for putting that idea in my head.
Chet trampled over weeds to the middle of the lawn. Kneeling, he placed his hands flat on the ground before reading out loud from one of the pages.
Nothing happened.
David sighed in relief. If his magic had responded to this place, Chet would want to make it their home. Their home. How had he become an unwed father with a fey fiancé in a week? And why am I suddenly okay with it?
The sheriff shuffled the pages and tried a different spell. Nothing.
Children rode past on their bicycles. The sun was beginning to dip below the treetops. Considering the trees were giant sequoias, there were still several hours of light left.
Despite David’s annoyance with the ranch, he had to admit it was beautiful. He imagined what his childhood would have been like growing up here.
Suddenly, the ground vibrated under his feet.
The fey magic was working.
The air around Chet glimmered like the northern lights. The kids on bikes backtracked to watch.
The dirt under Chet began to blossom. Wildflowers sprung up from the ground, heedless of the season, circling the sheriff. He jumped, taking care not to step on the new growth, and smiled victoriously at David.
Across the street, Troy waved his arms. “My goodness, you’ve only lived here five minutes and you’re already improving the neighborhood!”
David’s jaw dropped. “You promised,” he hissed.
“Across the street is not next door.” Despite his excuse, Chet had the good sense to look guilty. “I’ve got a few more spells to test. Do you mind?”
It was hard to argue with a man in a uniform knee-deep in wildflowers. “No. Might as well put on a show for our new neighbors.”
Chet gave him a smile that melted his heart.
The sheriff moved around the front yard, testing each remaining incantation. A few were duds. One produced a wall of bramble, which he took to be a protection spell.
When an apple tree appeared, heavy with fruit, David suggested they move to the backyard. “It’s looking a little busy up here.”
By now they had an audience, and as the crowd followed them to the back of the lot, Troy took hold of David’s arm. “He’s too good-looking to be a garden gnome. What is he?”
David pursed his lips, turned an imaginary key locking them together, and tossed the key aside.
To the amazement of the crowd, Chet’s last spell produced a garden that surpassed even Ricky’s. David realized there were enough fruits and vegetables to supply a restaurant.
“I think he’s a fairy,” Patrick said.
“Nah,” Victor said. “Fairies don’t have guns, do they, Daddy?”
Troy pondered the question. “Sheriff Chet might have fey blood. But not so much he can’t hold iron.”
David clapped his hands before addressing the crowd. “We can’t possibly eat all this. Help yourself to whatever you want.”
“Is it organic?” Troy asked.
David shrugged. “It’s magic. That’s all I can promise.”
While the neighbors harvested the garden, Chet and David snuck off. News traveled fast, and even Sarge was wide-eyed as they drove past the gate.
Chet’s body hummed with adrenaline. “That was incredible,” he crowed. “Did you take pictures? Video?”
“Sorry. I was too stunned to think ahead. Maybe the neighbors got something.”
“I need to write this down. I don’t want to forget which spell does what.”
David grabbed the pages. “I remember you said something that sounded like xylophone before the apple tree appeared.”
He scanned the pages, scribbling “apples?” on the sheet with the words “zyno fone.”
“One has a picture of corn on it,” Chet recalled. “That created the vegetable garden.”
They managed to guess at a few more of the pages before Chet pulled into his driveway. David stared at the building, noticing how closely it resembled the one on the ranch, despite the roofline.
Chet yawned. “Take pictures while I do these spells again.”
“Let’s eat what you’ve already conjured first. I hate wasting food.”
Chet was too tired to argue. He went to the bedroom to change out of his uniform while David debated what to make for dinner.
He sorted the vegetables on the counter until, peering through the studs, he saw Chet passed out on the bed. The sheriff had only managed to take off his gun belt before falling asleep. His feet were still on the floor.
“Magic must take it out of you,” David mumbled, as he lifted Chet’s legs up to set them on the bed. He unlaced the shoes and slipped them off.
Washing the vegetables in the sink, he stared out the window. He found the forest view breathtaking…but lonely. He hadn’t noticed it when Chet was awake, but right now he felt an uncomfortable isolation.
David had lived alone for years, but there was always a vibrant city just beyond the door. If he isolated, he told himself it was because he chose to. He wasn’t a hermit. He had friends. Granted, they were the people he worked with. They didn’t hang out together after work. Why would they? They saw each other five days a week. Until the restaurant closed.
But it was different here. The only thing that lay beyond Chet’s door was forest. Lots and lots of forest.
He needed to hide out during his pregnancy, but didn’t crave solitary confinement. Lone Wolves Ranch was looking like the best alternative. They must have houses that aren’t across the street from Troy.
His apartment offered distractions from the feeling of loneliness Chet’s house lacked. There was no TV, his laptop was at the Welcome Inn, and his cell phone was no more than a paperweight this far from a signal.
With cooking his only option, he decided on a vegetable ragout. He had everything he needed except the most important item: a pot big enough to hold it.
I’ve got a shed full of the stuff, Chet had said on his first visit. Feel free to explore.
Chet opened his eyes, momentarily confused. He was still in his uniform, alone in bed. The clock flashed two a.m. He called for David but there was no answer.
Out the window, he saw the glow of a lantern. He slipped his shoes on, grabbed a flashlight, and went to investigate.
There was a semi-circle of boxes in front of the shed. Sweeping the beam of light, he read the inventories newly listed on the boxes: linens, wine glasses, salad plates, cutting boards, pots.
David sat on the floor of the shed, unrolling a piece of canvas. Inside were half a dozen knives. His glazed eyes widened. “These are Swiss!”
