by Ranae Rose
“I won’t stay long,” he said when she approached the screen door again. “I promise.”
“Just passing through?” Mandy asked, her tone coming out a little cooler than she’d intended. Would this be the only time she’d ever see her father?
“Yeah.” His voice held a note of sadness, but he didn’t elaborate.
Mandy unlocked the door and pulled it open. “Leave your backpack on the porch, please.” She wouldn’t have let him in if she’d thought it a likely possibility, but it was possible that it contained a weapon of some sort.
He unslung the backpack from his shoulders without hesitation and lowered it onto the porch before entering the cabin. Once inside, he walked slowly, looking around as if taking in every little detail, like he was interested in her home and her life.
“Would you like something to drink?” She’d let him in; she might as well be at least minimally hospitable. Besides, the little ritual of politeness gave her something to do other than simply staring as her cool resolve crumbled, revealing a pit full of a thousand questions, a thousand pangs of longing she’d felt for him – the stranger she wanted to pretend no part of her needed. It was hard to keep up the façade, even in the privacy of her own mind, when each passing moment made her feel more and more like the little girl who’d clung to an old 5x7 photo, dog-earing the corners.
“Water’s fine.”
“Are you sure? I’ve got a pitcher of iced tea in the fridge.” She didn’t know if he liked iced tea, but it was a Southern staple, and his accent marked him as someone from well below the Mason-Dixon line. Georgia, to be exact.
“That’d be nice.”
She poured him a glass, and one for herself while she was at it.
“How did you find me?” He’d settled on one end of the couch, and she took the other, perching near the edge of the cushion. “Have you been keeping track of me for long?” Had he been keeping tabs on her all her life, observing from a distance as she’d wondered endlessly, hopeless about him?
He shook his head, and she told herself she wasn’t disappointed that he hadn’t cared enough to do so.
“No. No, I couldn’t stand to do that after I left. I had to distance myself, couldn’t let myself anywhere near Nashville.”
He was honest, if nothing else.
“I found out a couple months ago that you were here. News travels among shifters. You hear things from other shifters; wolves, bears – it doesn’t matter. When I heard there was a wolf shifter in these mountains who’d found a mate with the last name Foster, I knew it had to be you.”
“So you came to find me.”
He nodded. “Maybe it would’ve been kinder of me not to bother you, but I wanted so badly to see my daughter.”
His daughter? Biologically, yes … but he seemed to be taking the term a little too personally. “Why didn’t you want to see me when I was a child?” There – the question was out. “Was it because you wanted to avoid my mother?” Did he think she’d keep his visit a secret? She buried her eyetooth in her inner lip. Maybe she would, if she thought it would keep her mother from being hurt again.
“Yes and no. I wanted to avoid both of you.”
Mandy gripped her glass a little more firmly. During her childhood, she’d fantasized about sitting down with her father like this. Of asking him these same questions and demanding his honest answers. She hadn’t expected him to be straight-forward, or the truth to be so brutal.
“It was for your own safety. Your mother doesn’t know what I am, and I couldn’t tell her. Leaving her – especially while she was pregnant with you – was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”
“Why would you leave? Shifters can take human mates.” Deep down, she’d always expected his excuse to be flimsy – what good reason could there possibly be for what he’d done? – but it was still exasperating to hear him try to justify his actions.
“It’s a long story. I was being pursued by some very dangerous people – mostly because of what I am, and partially because of things I’d done.” He must have seen the doubt in her eyes, because he spoke more quickly, locking gazes with her. “You don’t understand what sort of sick freaks those people were. Violent and ruthless – they would’ve killed you and your mother in a heartbeat if they’d known you were associated with me. I left you before anyone found out that I had a mate and a child on the way, to protect you both.”
Though he’d seemed honest so far, it was a bit much to swallow. “You really thought we’d be better off without you?”
“Anything’s better than dead, isn’t it? When I first met your mother, I couldn’t bear the thought of ever leaving her. Circumstances forced me to realize that as her mate, I’d do anything to protect her. Anything.”
Anything. Would she do the same, if in some crazy, twisted way, leaving Jack and her child behind became the only way to save them from a gruesome fate? It was too much to contemplate; it hurt just to think about. And she didn’t even know if she was hearing the true story of why her father had left her and her mother. She didn’t know this man.
The faint sound of a motor hummed in the distance. It was too quiet to be Jack’s truck – it probably belonged to a car. “That’s probably my pack mates’ car,” Mandy said. Clarissa had said they’d be driving down the mountain so they could haul the shower supplies in their vehicle. “You can’t hang around here all day if you’re really planning on disappearing again; my mother will be here soon, and you’ve already broken her heart once.”
He froze, his blue eyes widening. “Your mother is coming here?” He looked as if he’d been slapped across the face.
“Yes. For my baby shower, and the wedding tomorrow.”
“Your wedding?”
She nodded.
He leapt up from the couch.
“You’re leaving?” she asked as he turned his gaze toward the door.
“I have to.”
“So this is it?” She stood too, exasperated. “I won’t see you again?” Some reunion. She still had questions. Lots of them. As he took another step toward the door, she tried her best to seal off that pit, the void inside her heart where she felt nine, not twenty-nine.
Chapter 10
“I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head and meeting her gaze again, his eyes apologetic. “But I have to get out of here – I can’t do that to your mother. I shouldn’t have come. I’m sorry.”
A part of her wanted to stop him as he set his iced tea down on the coffee table and rushed toward the door, pausing for the briefest of moments at the threshold. “Congratulations on the baby and the wedding.” The door banged shut behind him as he seized his backpack and took off, his hiking boots pounding against the porch floorboards. With a rustle of vegetation, he disappeared into the forest, leaving Mandy staring from the doorway.
She could have gone after him, but it wouldn’t have mattered – no doubt he’d shift into his wolf form and be long gone in a heartbeat. He had an athletic build and was clearly in good shape. Pregnant, she wouldn’t have a chance of catching up with him. And if he was that intent on leaving again, trying to stop him wouldn’t be worth it.
The sound of tires on gravel interrupted her thoughts, and the little car with the Alaskan tags turned into the driveway.
“Hey Mandy!” Clarissa stepped out of the car a moment later, beaming. “Ready to let us transform this place?”
Mandy donned a smile, hoping that it reached her eyes and masked her whirling emotions. “I sure am.” There was no point in ruining the baby shower by telling the girls about what had happened between her and her father. Clarissa had worked so hard and was excited about throwing the celebration, and if everyone knew, her mom would probably pick up on the fact that something was wrong when she arrived. The best thing Mandy could do was to keep quiet – she’d talk to Jack about what had happened later. It wasn’t like her father was a threat to anyone; he was probably over the mountain already and well on his way to God-knew-where.
�
��No peeking!” Clarissa said as she climbed the short flight of porch steps with several oversized paper shopping bags in hand. “I don’t want you to see the decorations until they’re all up.”
Mandy held the door open for her. “Does that mean you’re kicking me out?”
“Oh, we’d never do that to a pregnant woman,” April said, approaching the porch with her arms just as full of bags as Clarissa’s. “We were thinking that maybe you’d like to take a nap. Or a bath. Or read.”
“Basically,” Violet said, balancing a large cardboard container that looked distinctly like a cake box, “anything that involves spending some time in either your bedroom or the bathroom.”
Mandy had already showered that morning. “When you put it that way, I guess I’ll do some reading.” There were certainly worse fates than being confined to her room with a book.
Mandy slipped inside behind Violet, and Clarissa grinned as she put her bags down on the table. “Perfect. With the three of us working together, we’ll be done in less than an hour. Promise.”
Mandy retreated to her bedroom and closed the door before digging the container of pepper spray out of her pocket and putting it back in the drawer she’d taken it from. Her father hadn’t proven to be dangerous, but he had proven himself a disappointment.
****
If Clarissa hadn’t chosen a career as a midwife, Mandy would’ve encouraged her to consider becoming a party planner or a decorator. The shower she’d planned was incredible; the cabin’s interior had been transformed into such a cute place that Mandy hardly recognized her own home. Everywhere she looked, decorations had been hung and furniture had been draped. The shower was half moon themed – adorable. Half moon-shaped details were everywhere, like the glittering cut-out hanging high on one wall above a folding table, which displayed a layered cake with a moon on top and star-spangled sides.
Even the food fit the theme; the girls had made half moon-shaped finger sandwiches, and a bowl of salad made with half moon-shaped pasta was beside the tray of sandwiches in the fridge. There was even a fruit platter that boasted large half moon-shaped slices of pineapple.
“This is amazing,” Mandy murmured for what must have been the tenth time as she waited on the couch – her mother would be arriving soon. “Thanks for putting this together.” She smiled at Clarissa, who was standing nearby, arranging a tray of blue and yellow rock candy that blended right in with the color scheme.
“No problem. It was fun.”
Soft footsteps sounded on the front porch, and Mandy rose from the couch, hurrying to the door. No vehicle had pulled into the driveway, which meant that the footsteps must belong to the only non-pack guest besides her mother. “Hello, Emmaline.”
Emmaline was Ronnie’s grandmother. In her seventies and naturally petite, she didn’t look capable of hiking over mountains, but Mandy knew that was exactly what she’d done to get to the shower. She’d stalwartly refused transportation offers from Ronnie and everyone else – she liked her exercise, as she often said. Of course, it helped that she was a bear shifter, just like her grandson. And though she and Ronnie were at opposite ends of the size spectrum, they shared the same bronze skin tone, dark eyes and dark hair – though Emmaline’s had gone iron grey – courtesy of their Native American heritage. Their ancestors had been living in the Great Smoky Mountains since long before European settlers had arrived.
“Hello, Mandy,” Emmaline said, tossing her long curtain of hair over one slender, t-shirt-clad shoulder and stepping inside. She was far from the average grandmother, and Mandy had liked her from the first time they’d met.
Emmaline sauntered inside, wearing simple jeans and moccasins and carrying a bright yellow paper gift bag. “The decorations are wonderful.”
“Thanks!” Clarissa had finished fiddling with the rock candy and was striding across the room, her hand held out in invitation. “You must be Emmaline.”
Mandy introduced Emmaline to Clarissa, Violet and April. It was the first time they’d met, though Emmaline had doubtlessly heard all about their arrival already, since Clarissa had sent her an invitation to the baby shower via Ronnie. No sooner had Emmaline and April finished exchanging handshakes than the sound Mandy had been waiting for all morning came – tires on gravel.
Her heart leapt as she turned toward the door and watched a familiar dark blue sedan turn into the driveway. She should’ve been feeling nothing but happiness as she watched her mother park her car in front of the cabin, but instead, her joy was tinged with a mixture of guilt and dull anger. Why had her father bothered to show up at all? The memory of his visit would haunt her throughout her shower and wedding day, flaring up every time she looked at her mother.
“Mandy!” Her mother, Kimberly, climbed out of her car and waved. Her hair was a long cloud of perfect strawberry-blond waves, and it streamed behind her as she sprinted up the porch stairs, her hands and arms full of half a dozen gift bags.
“Mom!” Mandy embraced her as best she could, considering that her belly and the many gift bags were between them. “What’s all this?” Her voice held a note of reproach as she eyed the beribboned bounty.
“Oh, just a few things for the baby.” Kimberly’s pretty face split in a wide grin, and her brown eyes sparkled.
“A few things? This is way more than that. You shouldn’t have.”
Violet and Clarissa helped by taking the bags and arranging them on the table next to the cake.
“I wanted to,” she insisted, still smiling. “So, this is your home. It looks wonderful.”
Mandy laughed. “You can’t see much of the cabin beneath the decorations Clarissa put up. Normally, it’s not so dazzling in here.”
“Yes, but the architecture…” She ran a hand over one of the log walls, her fingertips gliding over the smooth wood. “The craftsmanship. It’s so rustic – like something out of a magazine, or a vacation catalogue.”
Mandy smiled. This was her mother, all right – she always had something nice to say about everything, was almost always positive. Even after what she’d been through. Maybe her naturally sunny disposition was why she’d been able to make it through all those years of heartbreak in the first place. It wasn’t what Mandy wanted to contemplate at the moment, but she couldn’t help it. The memory of her father’s baffling visit was still so fresh. What would her mother think if she knew?
Mandy didn’t dare tell her. If her father had stayed, or even promised to return, it would’ve been different. She wouldn’t have been able to keep from telling her then – if she were in her mother’s shoes, she’d want to know. Or at least, she imagined she would. But her father had run away again. What use would it be to re-break her mother’s heart? Whatever solace she’d found over the last thirty years, Mandy wasn’t about to destroy it for nothing.
“So, any idea whether it’s a boy or a girl?” A warm hand pressed against Mandy’s belly, and the baby gave a small kick. “I dreamed that you were a girl when I was pregnant with you.”
“I’ve had dreams about having a boy and about having a girl. No predictions from me, I’m afraid.”
“Well, that’s for the best, isn’t it? You and Jack want to be surprised on the big day.”
“Yeah.” Mandy refused to let her grin fade from her face, though the reminder of the little lies she’d told her mother ate at her. She’d led her mother to believe that she’d declined to know her baby’s gender because she wanted it to be a surprise. Her mother had no idea that she hadn’t had an ultrasound at all because she was a werewolf and couldn’t visit human doctors.
The idea of explaining what she really was to her mother was daunting enough, and then there was the fact that she couldn’t possibly do so without bringing up her father and dredging up all kinds of questions and possibilities, forcing her mother to rethink her relationship with him and why he might have left her. So she’d decided on silence. As far as her mother knew, she was a normal human mother living with a normal human man. Werewolves didn’t exist.
“How about we start off with a game?” Clarissa held up a glass jar filled to the brim with blue and yellow star-shaped candies. Even it was cute – she’d fastened a ribbon around the top, and it cascaded down the front in a riot of curls. “The object is to guess how many candies are in the jar. Whoever’s guess is closest wins.” She handed the jar to Mandy’s mother. “Would you like to start?”
“I’m terrible at things like this,” she said with a grin, turning the jar over in her hands and trying in vain to make the candies rattle or shift. They were packed tight and didn’t budge. “Hmm. I’m going to guess three hundred.”
Clarissa jotted down the number as Kimberly passed the jar to April. As it made its way around, estimates varied widely between two and five hundred. Emmaline was the last to guess.
She weighed the jar in her slender hands, then held it up to the light, surveying its contents with an appraising eye. Slowly, she rotated it, brushing the ribbon out of the way and studying the jar for so long that it seemed possible she might actually be trying to count the candies. Once, she opened her mouth as if to speak, but apparently thought better of it. Several more moments passed before she raised her gaze from the jar. “Four hundred and twenty-three.”
