Peggy was right, of course. Barbara was busy inspecting the wound. I’m not seeing any muscle damage. It doesn’t look that deep, but man, this is not a clean cut.” She looked at David, took a deep breath, and glanced at the glass of water Riley had brought him. “This is what we’re going to do,” she said, emptying her basket and placing the items on the coffee table: a syringe and saline solution, betadine, Steri-Strips, rolls of gauze, and finally latex gloves and a white cloth, which she put under his leg. “First, I’m going to give you some morphine by mouth and wait for it to kick in. It may make you queasy, hopefully not, but you won’t feel any pain. I’ll need to flush out this wound, disinfect and debride the tissue, and then I’ll do my best to close it. How does that sound?”
“Let’s do it.”
She picked up a prescription bottle and shook it at him. “Augmentin. An antibiotic. One pill every twelve hours for the next seven days, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Tom?” Barbara looked over at her brother. He hadn’t said a word since they arrived. Whether he was drunk or simply dumbstruck over the reverend being a werewolf, Riley couldn’t tell. But he looked ridiculous standing there with his big mouth hanging open and his head looking so small. Barbara loudened her voice. “Tom! Snap out of it.”
“Huh?”
“Close your mouth and pay attention! Roll that desk chair over here. And let’s get this coffee table out of the way. Maybe we can get the cats out, too. And David, I need you on your side, away from me.”
The gash was high on his thigh, right along his ass. A very nice ass, from what Riley remembered seeing of it in the church, and Barbara had to roll up the leg of his boxers. If all went well, Tom would have one more sexy scar to admire.
Peggy walked over, lifting one purring cat and handing it to Riley, then took the other off David’s chest. “Call us if you need assistance,” she said to Barbara, then stopped before she and the others left the room. “I hate to ask at a time like this, David, but do you have any coffee?”
“Sure. Coffeemaker’s on the counter. You’ll find a bag of Peet’s in the fridge. Make a whole pot. I might need a cup when I’m done here. Oh,” he added, “there’s fresh apple strudel in there, too. Help yourself. Warm it in the microwave.”
“Strudel?” Peggy licked her lips. In her long flannel nightgown, she looked like she was attending a sleepover. “We left the party before dessert, and I’m suddenly in the mood for emotional eating,” she said, shooting Riley a reprimanding look, as if David’s injury was all her fault. Which it was.
* * *
“I don’t understand how you two can possibly be related,” Tom said to the reverend. “Riley has no Hispanic blood.”
“Neither do I.” David looked at Riley, his leg propped on an empty chair. The five of them sat around the farm table in the kitchen, enjoying the warmth of the woodstove that Riley had piled with logs in case they lost the lights, which usually happened during storms. It wasn’t so much the rain or snow, but the wind that knocked the power out. And the wind out there was fierce. They’d already lost the TV signal. Tom had tried getting a weather update on his phone, but the internet was down, too. And when the lights flickered, Riley picked up a book of matches and lit the bunch of beeswax candles on the table.
“Cortez is the name of the family who raised me. Francisco and Marianna…Frank and Maria.” In what seemed like slow motion, David spooned sugar into his coffee, half of it missing the cup. “My father…our father…descended from the Mahican Indians, an Algonquin-speaking tribe known as the Hudson River Indians. There were several clans…the bear, turtle, turkey, wolf. We came from the wolf clan, also known as the loups.”
Riley would have chosen not to shift at all, but thank God she turned into a canine and not a turkey. Or a turtle. Jim might have caught and cooked her. “Loups?”
“It’s what the French who were here called them.” David’s head began to drop like he was in a heroin nod, but when his chin hit his chest, he perked up again. “Who knows where or how we came to be…or how many of us there ever were. The Mahicans settled here in the Berkshires and became known as the Stockbridge Indians until forced to migrate in the 1800s. They joined the Munsees…headed out to Wisconsin, where they live today.” He pushed his long, damp hair from his face, struggling to keep his eyes open. “Frank and Maria had a sheep farm near the reservation. That’s where they found Jacob.”
“Who’s Jacob?”
“Our dad. As the story goes, Frank heard his sheep bleating one night, went out to find a black wolf in his trap, and watched the animal turn into a young boy. Who knows why Frank didn’t shoot him on the spot?” David looked at Riley, glassy-eyed, and shrugged. “Maybe because they had no children of their own…maybe because they took pity on him…sort of like Peggy and Barbara did you, I suspect.” He glanced at Peg, Barb, and Tom with half-closed eyes and smiled. “They took him in, raised him…and I guess he quickly learned the rules on the farm…no killing sheep!” David swayed on his chair and laughed, but it sounded like more of a musical exhalation. “When Jacob turned eighteen and it came time to go to college, he wanted to travel to Massachusetts…see Stockbridge…find his roots. Who knows? He was enrolled in a pre-vet program over at Amherst when he met and fell in love with Ellen. Got her pregnant, too.”
Ellen. Jacob and Ellen. Her biological parents. Riley had given up long ago on the idea of ever knowing her family history.
“Maria says Jacob intended to marry and take her back to Wisconsin, thinking they’d transfer to colleges out there. Jacob would help out on the farm, and Frank and Maria would mind the baby while he and Ellen finished…school.” David’s head fell forward again.
Peggy reached across the table and patted his hand. “Are you okay?”
He snapped to and continued. “That was the plan, until Ellen walked in on Jacob shifting one night. She freaked out…ran for her life. Can you blame her, though? It was bad enough finding out her boyfriend was a werewolf…even worse knowing that his baby was growing inside her.” David started to scratch his head, but his hand missed and hit the table.
“I’m worried,” Peggy whispered to Barbara. “I think you overdosed him.”
“He’s fine. He’ll feel worse when it wears off and the pain hits him.”
“I heard that.” David grinned. “Don’t worry. It’ll wash off…I mean, wear off.” He started giggling. “I’m a wash-n-wear wolf.”
Peggy looked between Riley and Barbara and rolled her eyes. “He’s high as a kite. Maybe it isn’t the best time for this conversation. He needs to rest.”
David was loopy on opioids, Tom was mesmerized by the reverend to the point of stupidity, and beneath their cool exteriors, Barbara and Peggy were clearly on overload. The dynamics of this group were forever changed. Unless Jim was still alive, Riley had become a killer this evening. But at least she was no longer a lone wolf. She was here having coffee with her brother—her brother, for God’s sake. And the other three humans present were sitting at a kitchen table with two werewolves—one of whom had been shot for undisclosed reasons. All in all, everyone needed to rest.
“I’m okay, Peggy,” David mumbled. “I’m awake…I can hear everything…I’m just having trouble keeping my…my eyes open. Morphine…wow…now I understand the heroin epidemic…and why all those Victorian opium dens were so popular.” He forced his eyes open, drank some coffee, and when some dribbled out of the corner of his mouth, Tom grabbed a napkin and gently wiped it.
“Thank you, Tom,” David said, smiling flirtatiously. “As I was saying…what was I saying?” He paused. “Oh, yeah…well, according to Frank and Maria, Ellen lived in Great Barrington. She and Jacob had done a lot of hiking in the area, on the Appalachian Trail. Of course, she didn’t want anything to do with him…threatened to have him arrested for stalking her if he came around, and…he feared being arrested.”
Riley completely understood her father’s fear.
David took another sip of coff
ee, this time managing to swallow it all. “I guess our mother was terrified of giving birth to some half-human, half-animal freak. Jacob knew she was hiding her pregnancy from her parents, so after the spring semester ended, he stayed hidden, keeping a careful watch…from the woods. Frank said Jacob used to call them, frightened that the change was coming on him too frequently…that when it did, he had a hard time changing back.”
David paused, his eyes closing, and then just as fast they sprang open, and he began talking again. “When the time came for her to give birth to us, she—”
“Us? You mean like…like twins?” Riley stammered.
“Twins…littermates…” David nodded. “She headed for the trails. Jacob was there in the distance though…a wolf waiting to snatch his pups, but—”
Tom’s eyes bulged. “Pups?” It was the first word he’d uttered since sitting down. Something about Riley being called a pup obviously struck him as hilarious, and he covered his mouth, stifling a sudden fit of nervous laughter.
“Spare me, will you?” Riley groaned.
Peggy and Barbara both shot Tom a disapproving frown. David didn’t notice. He was dozing again.
“But what happened?” Riley had to know. “What happened to me?”
“Um…” David ran his fingers through his long, black hair. “He couldn’t carry us both in his mouth. He took me first, stashed me somewhere…but when he returned for you, a crowd of early morning hikers was rushing off with you. Jacob called Maria, hysterical. She told him to buy formula, sneak me back into the room he rented off campus, and start feeding me. She and Frank got in the car and drove all the way from Wisconsin to Massachusetts to take us home. Jacob never went back.”
“What a sad story,” Barbara said. “How awful for Jacob. And for you and Riley.”
Especially for her, Riley thought. Her birth mother had abandoned her, but her father hadn’t. If those well-intentioned hikers hadn’t rescued her, she’d have grown up in Wisconsin with her father and brother.
“My dad always told me I had a sibling somewhere,” David said. “He didn’t even know if you were a boy or a girl.”
“So your dad raised you?” Peggy asked.
“On the farm, yes. Jacob was a great dad…while I had him. I grew up watching him shift all the time. I remember being tiny, maybe three, and riding on his back through the moonlit woods when he was in fur. He was beautiful. Majestic. Huge. Black and silver.”
“More wolf than coyote…like you,” Riley said.
“Yeah. Like me. Seeing him in fur was normal for me…although I knew I was never supposed to tell anyone. I guess he didn’t want to hide who he was in case…you know, in case it ended up happening to me. And it did. He was gone by then. He was still in his twenties when he left. More and more, he had trouble staying in human form. Maria blamed it on Ellen. Not only on the fact that the woman he loved rejected him, but that she had looked upon him with disgust and loathing. She says it messed him up emotionally. Sometimes he’d be fine, but then he’d take off for the wilderness in fur and not come home for weeks.”
David brought his coffee cup to his lips, careful not to miss his mouth. “I remember the day he left. I was just turning eight. He said he had to go away for a while. I guess it broke his heart to tell me he’d never be back. But Maria and Frank knew. Jacob had already made legal arrangements with them.”
“But I thought he died,” Riley said. “You told me you lost your father.”
“I did lose him. I lost him when he lost himself…his human self.”
“He’s still alive then?”
“Could be. We don’t know. Frank figures he headed north…joined a wolf pack. After Ellen, he probably figured he’d never find a human mate who would accept him.”
“And what about you?” Tom asked. “When did you know what you were?”
“The change came upon me when I was thirteen. Whew…” David snorted a laugh. “I was a handful…Frank and Maria will tell you the next time they come to visit…a sullen, testosterone-fueled adolescent, angry at my father for disappearing…angry at our mother for leaving us to die…angry at the nice people who’d taken my sibling. Add to that the temptation of being a werewolf living on a sheep farm! Frank had to lock me in my room at night.”
They shared a little laugh around the table, which broke the tension. “That’s why I never touch any meat other than fish. It makes me turn. Makes me wild,” David said. “The cravings get too strong…strong enough to kill and eat a man.”
Tom’s eyes widened, and Riley watched his Adam’s apple move up and down as he swallowed hard. Now she was the one suppressing a giggle. Seeing Tom scared for a moment served him right.
“Actually, I probably did eat a few,” David admitted. “Thugs, bad guys, of course.”
Riley wondered if he’d admit this if he weren’t drugged.
David glanced at Tom. “I’m not without a moral compass, you know. But I did need to learn to curb my appetite…put myself in check before I got into big trouble…or started to become more wolf than man, like my father. With Frank and Maria’s support I decided to take a more spiritual path…which led to studying theology and entering the ministry. It was the only way to save myself.”
Barbra took a deep breath. “And you returned to your birthplace hoping to, what, find your mother?”
“No. I’ve never looked for her. I don’t think she’d want anything to do with me. I think I always unconsciously hoped to find my sister.” He looked at Riley. “It seemed an impossible fantasy. And then…that night at your house, when you said you were a foundling…born on the Appalachian Trail…I knew it had to be you. When Tom told me your birthday…that confirmed it.” He looked at Peggy and Barbara. “I wanted to tell Riley when she came to visit me last month.”
The mention of a visitation with the reverend made Peggy raise her brow and Riley cringe. Could she ever do anything without Peggy finding out?
“I had no way of knowing whether Riley inherited our father’s lycanthropy,” David said. “She looks nothing like us. Obviously, she takes after our mother, so it was quite possible she wasn’t a shifter. I started keeping tabs on her only after she left her will with me. I was concerned that maybe she was sick or depressed.”
Her will?” Peggy shot her gaze at Riley, but she refused to make eye contact.
“I knew someone was watching,” Riley said. “I thought it was Jim.”
“And it’s a good thing it was me, huh?” He attempted to give Riley a wide wink, the kind you’d give someone to acknowledge a private joke, except that both eyes closed and stayed shut.
Damn that morphine. It had David blabbering all her secrets. Barb might as well have given him truth serum.
Peggy rubbed her temples as though warding off a massive headache, then pushed her chair back and stood up in her grandma-like nightgown. “I’ve had all I can stand for one night.”
At least Peg and Barb only had to cross the road, from one driveway to the next. Tom, she assumed, had planned to spend the night at the cottage. Riley had only a two-minute drive home, but she wasn’t about to leave David alone.
Apparently, Barbara was having the same thought. “The morphine will wear off in a couple of hours, but you shouldn’t be by yourself tonight.”
Tom’s hand flew up like he was bidding on something at an auction. “I’ll stay,” he volunteered before Riley could speak.
David looked at him sleepily, dreamily. “That’s sweet, Tom,” but I don’t want to impose.
Tom, they all knew, was dying for the reverend to impose on him. He’d been hopelessly in love with the man for how long? Now he had him—his very own werewolf. “No imposition,” he said.
With a lopsided grin, David reached over and petted the fake fur on what looked like a furry onesie. “You look so cute in this…but your head looks so little.”
“I need to change,” Tom said to him. “I’m going to run across the road and get my bag out of the car. Promise me you won’t stand up
until I get back and help you to bed.”
“Whatever you say.” David’s mouth stayed open and his eyes closed again. “Oh…and the cats need dinner…”
“I’ll do that, too,” Tom said.
At the sound of all their chairs moving, David’s eyes flashed open, and with a drunken smirk he gave them all a big wave good-bye until his hand hit the table. “Thanks for patching me up, Little Red Riding Hood,” he said to Barbara. “You, too, Grandma,” he said to Peggy, his torso swaying side to side.
Peggy pursed her lips tightly. “I think you gave him way too much, Barb,” she said as they put their coats on.
“For the last time, Peg, I did not give him too much. Jesus. I’m a pharmacist, remember? It’s what I do for a living,” Barbara huffed. “Geez, you’re starting to sound like a cranky old lady. Maybe you need to get out of that flannel nightgown, Grandma!”
“Me? How about you, Little Red Riding Hood? You’re supposed to be taking Grandma bread and cheese and fruit from the garden in that basket of yours. Instead, you’ve got it loaded with drugs.”
“Oh, Lord! A marital spat. I love it,” Tom said, “I wish I had a spouse to argue with.”
Laughter erupted from the kitchen. Whether David was laughing at them or nothing in particular, they couldn’t tell.
“Come on, guys,” Riley said. “We’re all on edge…except for Tom, who’s in la-la land.”
“On edge?” Peggy said, piercing Riley with her glare as she pulled on the gray wig and attached nightcap as though it were a winter hat. “That’s an understatement.”
Riley hung her head. “I’m sorry, Peg.”
“Just tell me this. Will I be visiting you in jail? Do I need to retain a lawyer on your behalf?”
“No and no.” That’s as honest as she could be.
Tom opened the door, the burst of frigid air striking her with the cold truth of what she’d done tonight. Was Jim dead yet? What if he wasn’t? What if Fiona reported him missing too soon, and they found him alive? He knew her name…where she lived.
Coyote Blues Page 36
