by Michelle Fox
“Gretchen.” Chloe came forward, her hair shining like honey and a sympathetic smile on her face. Despite her sympathy, she beamed and glowed like she’d been rolling in pixie dust.
“Hey, Chloe.” Gretchen looked down and saw the reason for the glow. Chloe was a two-for-one special. “I didn’t know you were pregnant.” She’d left town back when Chloe had been a null and due to leave the pack and join the human world. From what she’d been told, Jackson had since managed to bring Chloe’s wolf over. How, Gretchen didn’t know, the details had been fuzzy by the time she heard anything, months after the fact. The highlight reel featured a rogue alpha, some jealous bitches and ended with Chloe as the alpha’s mate. She would lead Huntsville at Jackson’s side once Cal stepped down, and as far as Gretchen was concerned, that was all she needed to know.
Chloe put a hand over her stomach. “Yeah. We’re due in a few months.”
“Oh, congrats.” She tried to be happy for them, and deep down she was, but she couldn’t really focus on anything but her father.
“Thanks.” Chloe nodded toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms. “Go on back. Marie said to send you in when you got here.”
Gretchen started moving before Chloe finished speaking. Marie was the pack healer, versed in the use of herbs and with an innate ability to heal. She was only called in when it was serious. Gretchen’s heart pounded as she rounded the corner to her father’s bedroom. She stopped short at what she saw.
He was so small.
And thin as a twig.
Bandages wound their way around his head, the white vibrant against his pasty skin. Bruises mottled one eye as well as dotted his arms.
She covered her mouth with her hand, trying to hold back the sadness that swept over her.
In her mind, her father was always the strong, virile man he’d been when she was five. He’d been the most handsome man in the world then. Every Friday night, they ordered pizza and then put on some jazz. She would stand on his shoes and he would dance with her, stepping around the living room and swinging her up high on the last note of every song.
Now he lay on his bed, still as death.
“Come in, child. He needs you.” Marie gave a gentle smile that crinkled all the fine wrinkles of her face. Her white hair had been pulled back from her face in a bun and a pink jogging suit complemented the rosiness in her cheeks. She left the chair she sat in, moving with the fluid strength of a much younger wolf despite her age, and came to Gretchen, guiding her toward the bed by the elbow.
Gretchen nodded and settled next to her father, taking his hand in hers. “H-h-he’s cold,” she said, layering her other hand on top in an effort to give him her heat. A whine from her wolf escaped her throat.
“But better than he was.” Marie laid a comforting hand on Gretchen’s shoulder. “He will recover.”
“Thank the moon.” She couldn’t breathe for a second, the relief at Marie’s words overwhelmed her like a wave sweeping her under.
“However, he may not be quite the same. His shoulder was completely shattered. At his age, it may not knit back together like it should.”
“But he’ll still be alive.” Gretchen hugged her father’s hand to her chest.
“And you know his mind has been failing him for quite some time now.” Marie moved to resume her place at the chair next to the bed. “This may accelerate that.”
“I’m not putting him in a home,” Gretchen said, her voice terse.
“Not everyone has to go to a home, child, but you need to be prepared for the possibility. If he loses control of himself, you will have no choice. Neither will Cal. He has to do what will protect the pack.” Marie waved a hand. “We can’t have old folks toddling off and shifting willy-nilly because they can’t remember what they are, let alone how to keep a secret. The humans will see and then we’ll have our tails pinched in the door, won’t we?”
“I’ll take care of him. I’ll make sure he doesn’t cause trouble. Cal won’t have to worry about my dad.” She closed her eyes and started rearranging her life. No matter what, she wouldn’t let her pack alpha put Dad in a home. Wolves lived free and they died free. The homes were for old wolves who didn’t have family or pack to look after them.
“All right, child. I don’t want to burden you more than I have to. I’ve said my piece and done what I can for Hank.” Marie rose from her chair, her posture straight and narrow. “Fix up some good bone broth for him. He’ll need it when he wakes up.”
“How long will it take him to heal?” Gretchen asked. Young shifters healed within minutes to hours, but the older the shifter, the more time they needed.
“Probably a few days. No more than a week. If he’s doing poorly, let me know and I’ll come lay the healing on him again.”
“Thank you.”
“Take care, child.” Marie left the room and Gretchen caught snippets of conversation between the healer and Jackson and Chloe as the elderly woman said her goodbyes.
Chloe came to join her then, easing into the same chair Marie had occupied. “Hope you don’t mind if I sit down. My legs get tired from hauling two people around.”
“No, it’s fine. Of course you should sit. Thank you for coming to check on my dad.”
“I’m glad you called. We found him lying in the driveway.”
“They just left him?” Gretchen couldn’t keep her horror out of her voice. Only a lowdown dirty dog would do that to another shifter.
“Do you have any idea who called you?” Chloe asked.
Gretchen shook her head as Jackson joined them, tucking his bulk into the corner by the dresser. “If you don’t mind I’d like to see your phone.”
Gretchen fished it out of her purse and showed him the text and the call she’d received. “It’s not anyone I know and he didn’t say his name.”
“Well, let’s call him back and see what he says.” Jackson made the call and put the phone on speaker. No one answered. He stared at the screen with a frown. “Huh. If this guy won’t answer, we might have to wait until your dad wakes up and tells us what happened.”
“I tried to call him earlier and no one picked up,” Gretchen said. “Can the sheriff run the number or something?” she asked, having only a vague notion of police capabilities. It sounded right, though. Just like the true detective shows she’d watched once or twice.
Jackson lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Maybe. I’ll text the number to him. Hang on.” He pulled out his cell phone and quickly pecked out a text with one finger. “Okay, all sent. We’ll see what Chief Mueller comes up with.”
“Thanks. I’ll be here with my dad.”
Jackson offered a hand to Chloe as she struggled to get up. “Yeah, since you’re here, I wanted to let you know about our…” He trailed off as Chloe elbowed him in the ribs.
With a tight smile, his mate said, “This probably isn’t the best time, Jacks.”
“I don’t want to be rude and not invite her either,” Jackson protested.
“Invite me to what?” Gretchen feigned interest when she really just wanted them to leave already, but she couldn’t figure out a polite way to say as much. Her wolf had been riding high, battling with her for dominance since she read the first text. It was exhausting and if she didn’t get a break soon, she was going to lose control and shift. Damn beast thought it could do a better job taking care of her dad.
You don’t have thumbs, she thought at her wolf. And you won’t be able to carry the pot for the bone broth.
Chloe crossed her arms and rolled her eyes at her mate. “Go on, tell her.”
“But you said that would be rude.” Jackson gave his mate a confused look.
“It is, but you’re clearly not going to listen to me so at least be quick about it.” She pinned him down with a sharp look. “Gretchen’s got better things to do right now.”
Jackson gave a curt nod and then cleared his throat. “What I was going to say was we have a new pack initiative, and since you’re here, I wanted to invite you to co
me.”
“Okay. What is this initiative?” Gretchen asked, wishing he would just spit it out.
“It’s a mixer. For singles. In our pack and others.”
Gretchen cut him off. “Not interested.”
He gave her a confused look. “But you’re single. Don’t you want to find your mate?”
“I don’t believe in mates and I’m not looking to get hitched. Sorry.”
Chloe and Jackson looked at Gretchen and then each other. Gretchen’s wolf didn’t like her answer either and scolded her with a yip.
She gestured to Chloe and Jackson. “I know you two are mated and happy and that’s great, but my dad thought he had a mate and she left us both. He wouldn’t be like this if she’d stayed and done right by her family and her pack.” She closed her eyes for a second, reliving the loss of her mother. It had haunted her all her life. In the sixth grade, she’d once been taunted as being the kid whose mother didn’t want her…and, as much as that hurt to hear, it was true. She and her dad hadn’t been good enough for her mom.
“You do know our population is dropping and we’re not getting pregnant as easily, right?” Jackson’s gaze probed hers until Gretchen turned away, refusing to meet his eyes.
“It’s not up to me to fix that problem. I’ve got other fish to fry anyway. I’m not doing anything right now except looking after my dad. It’s not like there’s anyone else.”
Jackson opened his mouth to say something, but Chloe smoothly stepped in front of him and said, her voice soft, “That’s okay. We understand.” She grabbed Jackson’s hand and tugged him out of the room as she said, “We’re going to go tell Cal what’s going on and let you take care of your dad.”
“Thanks,” Gretchen said, relieved that she wouldn’t have to explain everything to her alpha. “I tried to call Cal earlier and couldn’t reach him. That’s a big help.”
Chloe gave an apologetic smile. “I got a hold of Cal after I spoke to you. He would’ve come himself, but he’s stuck in a meeting with the mining company.” One of the ways the pack made money was to lease their mineral rights. Their land had a rich deposit of coal and the revenue from the lease was divided evenly amongst all the pack members who were eighteen or older.
“Maybe you can make the mixer some other time,” Jackson said, still focused on finding her a mate. “We’re going to have them regularly.”
“Yeah, like never,” Gretchen muttered as Chloe marched him out of her dad’s bedroom, not caring if he heard her or not. Her father would’ve had a fit at the disrespect, but at the moment, she just didn’t have it in her to be nice. She would apologize later if it became an issue, and anyway, she wanted her pack to know she was serious about staying single.
She didn’t need anybody but her dad. It was the two of them against the world and it worked for them both. No reason to change that now, especially when her father needed her the most.
***
Mindful of the healer’s instructions to make bone broth, Gretchen made sure her father was covered with blankets and then went to the kitchen. Fortunately, the freezer was stocked with a good selection of beef bones and her dad must’ve gone to the grocery store fairly recently as there were onions and carrots. Putting on some of his favorite jazz music, she set to chopping onions and soon the house was filled with the smell of herbs and root vegetables. Once she added the bones and covered them with water, she set the timer and then went back to check on her dad.
Seeing that he was resting comfortably, she collapsed on the couch in the living room.
She thought about calling Inga, one of her closest friends, but decided she was too tired to be good company. Pulling the afghan off the back of the couch, she wrapped it around her shoulders and dozed while she waited for the timer to go off.
Everything’s going to be all right.
Chapter Three
~Gretchen~
Gretchen woke some time later to the buzz of the kitchen timer and the ding of her cell phone. Thankfully her wolf had calmed down and slept right through the din. She checked the screen as she made her way to the kitchen, frowning as she recognized the number as that of the mystery man who’d called earlier.
“What do you want?” she growled into the phone.
“My money. You’ve got until tomorrow night or I’ll do you the same as I did your dad. Then once you heal, I’ll do it again and again until I get what’s owed to me.”
She grimaced at the bloodlust filling his voice. This asshole liked what he’d done to her dad, she could hear it. “Where do I find you?”
“Meet me at the intersection of routes 88 and 122 at midnight tomorrow.” The phone went dead in her ear as he hung up.
“Damn it,” she swore as she turned off the timer and checked the soup. She took a second to text herself the location he’d given her, knowing she’d have to look it up on a map later.
A groan sounded from the back of the house. Her dad was awake. “I’m coming,” she called. Grabbing a bowl, she spooned in some of the broth and then headed to his bedroom.
She found her father, flailing in bed, trying to sit up, but too weak to do so. Setting the soup on the nightstand, she rushed to his side. “Shh, Dad. Take it easy.”
He looked at her, surprise shining in his blue eyes. “Gretchen? Is that you?”
“Yes, I came as soon as I could.” She fluffed the pillows and drew the covers back up to his shoulders.
“Why? I thought you had a big job interview today.” He relaxed into the bed, his brow furrowed.
“You remember that, but you don’t know why I’m here?” She gave him a look, trying to spot what was going on.
“From how rotten I feel, I guess something happened, but I couldn’t tell you what.”
“You were attacked, Dad.”
“I was? By who?” He scanned the room as if expecting to spot his assailant.
“A shifter who says you owe him money. That’s all I know.”
He frowned. “I don’t owe anyone money. He must have made a mistake of some kind.”
“Maybe, but until we sort it out, I’m home taking care of you.” She picked up the bowl of broth and stirred it. “I’m under orders to feed you broth until you float.”
“Who made it?” He cast a suspicious gaze at the bowl.
“I did.”
He smiled. “So it’s delicious then.”
“I certainly hope so.” She held up the spoon. “Are you up to feeding yourself or should I feed you?”
He snatched the spoon from her hand, moving faster than she would’ve expected. “I can manage.”
“All right.” She let him take the bowl and then stood and stretched, relaxing now that she knew her father would be okay. Hearing it and knowing it were too different things, and seeing his feisty spirit, even if his memory appeared to be a bit addled, soothed her worries. “I’m going to go dig around in my closet to see if there are any clothes here that I can wear. I didn’t have time to pack a bag.”
***
Searching her room turned up some old sweat pants, ratty t-shirts with her High School mascot emblazoned across the front and underwear she should’ve thrown out years ago. “Great,” she muttered to herself. Well, there was no helping it, she would just have to drive down to Hudson and pick up a few things until Dad was strong enough to do without her for a few days.
Giving up on clothing, she called Jackson who answered on the first ring.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. I thought you would want to know Dad’s awake. I asked him who he owed money to, but he has no idea what I’m talking about.”
“Oh, really?”
“I wonder if maybe he has a concussion or something?”
“Splitting someone’s skull open could mess with memory. Or he might just be…” Jackson trailed off, leaving it unsaid.
Irritated, Gretchen finished the thought for him. The emotion caused her wolf to stir and blink at her with curiosity. “Losing it? Is that what you were
going to say?”
“I, ah, well,” Jackson paused, hesitating for a second. “You have to consider the possibility, Gretchen. He’s no young wolf anymore and Marie told us he’s been fading.”
“He’s over a hundred years old, of course his brain isn’t working like ours,” she said, exasperated. “But he’s not lost in a fog of dementia either. I talk to him almost every day and he follows a conversation just fine.”
“Okay. Maybe you’re right, but we have to consider all the possibilities here.”
“So now what? Did you hear anything from Chief Mueller?”
“Not yet, and until we do, can you take a look around your dad’s house? If there’s a big debt, there should be some paperwork. A contract, a receipt, something.”
“We’d better figure something out soon. This guy says I have until tomorrow night to get him his money, or else.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll protect you. He’s no match for the entire pack.”
***
After saying goodbye to Jackson, Gretchen poked her head into her dad’s room, and finding him asleep, she retrieved his dishes, returning them to the kitchen. The smell of the broth set her stomach growling and she took a minute to drink some of the salty, warm liquid. Then she called in a takeout order for pizza, knowing the broth wouldn’t hold her for long. Ideally, she would cook, but she didn’t feel up to it after the day she’d had so far. Her inner gourmand would have to wait until she had more energy.
While she waited on the pizza, she checked all of Dad’s usual spots for bills and other paperwork. The dining room table held a spread of current bills, but nothing that would justify a skull splitting attack. She moved on to the oak secretary that had belonged to her great-grandparents. There she found tax records and all her old report cards.
Chuckling at the way her father had preserved her childhood, she put everything away and moved on to the next spot. The basket by his favorite armchair finally revealed some clues. There were stacks of receipts in all sorts of amounts. A hundred dollars. A thousand. Ten thousand. Twenty-five thousand. All signed by her father and a man named Axel Sharpe.
