Heart of the Winter Wolf

by Heart of the Winter Wolf (pdf) (lit)

  "I'm your partner, and this farm needs to be brought back from the dead."

  "Can't argue with that. It's needed serious work for a long time. How the hell did you find so much help? Looks like somebody kicked over an anthill."

  "I discovered one thing that hasn't changed in thirty years--money still talks. I figured there's no point dragging all these projects out, so I offered hefty incentives to finish by the end of the month. Just in time, too. There isn't a roof that doesn't leak, and two of the equipment sheds are on the verge of collapse. There's no watering system for the stock, and the fuse box in the stable catches fire when you turn on a light."

  Connor put his hands up as if surrendering. "I admit it. It was grim. I thought this place had a lot of potential, but if it was left in my hands, it would just revert back to the forest, like those ancient ruins you see in South America."

  "You didn't do so bad. You got a contractor to come in and renovate the house at least. I fear to think what kind of shape it was in."

  "Well, it had an air-conditioned roof that matched the barn, for one thing. Once we got that fixed, the contractor pointed out other things that should be done, too. Remove the weasel family from the kitchen, the bee colony from the attic, and so forth. One thing led to another. I figure it's pretty much a new house now, but I like it. I imagine I'll like what you're doing when it's done, too."

  "I hope so. Look, if you want anything done a certain way …."

  Connor shook his head. "Nope. You go right ahead and do it, do anything, any way you see fit. Believe me, I'll be perfectly happy as a silent partner." He was about to walk away, then turned back. "Almost forgot. Our multi-talented Culley sent these over for you. It's your new ID."

  James surveyed the little plastic cards his brother dumped in his hand. "Which one is the ID?"

  "All of them. It's a collective term for the basics. Drivers license is probably your main one. Birth certificate--that's important. You'll have to memorize the new year, but the date and place are the same. Figured it would be less confusing for you."

  "Seems to be a lot tougher to be a Changeling in the 21st century. Tougher to hide your age."

  "You got that right." Connor rolled his eyes. It was a perennial problem for all of them. The lifespan of a Changeling was much longer than that of a human, and they aged very slowly. And that meant James couldn't use a single document from his previous life. Because according to them, he was 75 years old. Or dead. Either way, he had to start fresh. As Connor had. "That's why I moved here ten years ago. Kenzie says she can put a few gray streaks in my hair eventually, and Birkie has a little magic that will make me look a bit older. I figure I've got maybe twenty to thirty years left here before I need to move on. I'm thinking I'll try Alaska next time. Mom and Dad want to go there, too. Carlene says it's incredible."

  "Mom and Dad still coming here to visit?"

  "In the fall. They're leading a historical tour of the Highlands until late September. Then they have the rest of the year off, said they'd like to spend it here with us. You know, their first impulse was to drop everything and rush over here to see you. But they thought maybe that might be overwhelming, that they should give you a little more time to get your human feet under you." Connor watched his brother's face. Decided not to mention that holding off had been his idea, but he wasn't sure at that moment who he had been protecting, his parents or his brother. "It cost them, James, let me tell you. They love you. We all do."

  James nodded, then abruptly walked away. Connor let him go. I know it costs you, too, bro, just to be here in human skin. Please don't give up.

  * * * *

  He walked out of the bank with two new accounts, two more plastic cards, and a sheaf of papers and brochures. James' first impulse was to dump the paper into the nearest trash, but Culley had cautioned him against doing exactly that. Thank God Culley was doing his bookkeeping if it meant keeping track of this much crap.

  James had to admit that Culley was doing a very good job of it, though. His youngest brother had showed him a lengthy list of assets and investments waiting to be transferred into James' new accounts. Wealth accumulation was relatively easy with a long lifespan, but still, James had been shocked at the amounts.

  He'd also been humbled. He'd never thought about all the things his family had had to deal with, all the details that had to be taken care of. They'd even had to bury Evelyn, sort her belongings, sort his belongings, sell off the ranch, all without any help from him. As if he had died. What had he put them through? Automatically he thought about his parents again, and his throat tightened up. He wanted to see them, badly, and dreaded the powerful emotions that were sure to come with it at the same time. Maybe he'd be more comfortable, better able to handle those emotions in a few months, when he'd had more practice at being human. Maybe pigs will fly. That's the whole damn problem with being human. You always end up feeling things you don't want to feel. Nevertheless he wanted to see his folks. He had no idea how he was going to apologize for his thirty-year absence, but he was damn well going to try.

  The scary part was that he couldn't promise his family anything, not a thing. He had no idea how long he could stand to be human. All that held him to a two-legged existence was the overriding need to protect Jillian from his own wolf. As long as it takes. I'll do it as long as it takes.

  He'd hoped that just being human would be enough to keep the wolf away from Jillian. God knew it wasn't enough to keep her out of his mind. He caught himself thinking about her countless times through the day, and at night he dreamed about her frequently, often reliving that kiss at the clinic. Sometimes dreaming beyond the kiss ....

  When he awakened one night on the very verge of Changing, he realized he'd have to find some other way to appease his alter ego. There was no doubt in his mind that if he'd finished the Change, the damn wolf would have headed straight to the clinic. To Jillian. Maybe I need to give it what it wants. Some of what it wants, he amended. If he dropped by the clinic in the morning, saw Jillian, would the wolf be satisfied?

  He didn't know that once would be far from enough. And it didn't take long for Connor to notice either. His brother was waiting for him at the edge of the field when he finished seeding one night.

  "Noticed you were at the clinic again today."

  "Yeah, so?"

  "So, seems like you're there a lot. Any special reason?"

  "No big deal. Just checking on Jillian, that's all. Making sure she's okay."

  "Every single day?"

  "Look, I figure it keeps the damn wolf from looking in on her while I'm asleep. Just being proactive." It was true that James didn't trust his alter ego, but he wasn't about to mention how much he had come to look forward to going to the clinic. It wasn't something he admitted to himself. He never stayed long, a few minutes only. Enough to catch a glimpse of her. Sometimes to exchange a couple of words with her, hear her voice.

  "Good Christ, James, it's pretty obvious to everyone that you like her a lot. Why the hell don't you ask her out? Come to think of it, if you're so damn concerned about her safety, it would be a lot easier to keep an eye on her--and the wolf--if you were in a relationship. Maybe you should think about that."

  What? "Maybe you should mind your business. I'm not interested."

  Connor's expression was smug. "Not interested. Sure. You must have mentioned her a half dozen times over supper last night. And at the clinic this morning I thought you were going to flatten Martin Bell when he asked where the little blonde gal with the great ass was."

  James flicked a murderous glance at the smirk on his older brother's face. Surely he hadn't mentioned Jillian that much? Connor was exaggerating, right? "Maybe I get tired of hearing jerks like Bell shoot off their mouths. So what?" And dammit, she did have a great little behind.

  "So you're asking me to believe you're not the least little bit interested in Jillian Descharme? She's just a responsibility, someone you feel obligated to look out for but nothing more?"

  "
I'm not asking you anything. Just leave it alone, Connor." It was all he could do to keep from shouting it at his brother. Deep inside James was uncomfortably aware his anger was little more than a flimsy shield, and that pissed him off even more. He'd made a decision, goddammit! Decided it was best to stay away from Jillian, to resist the attraction he felt for her. Because in order to keep her safe, he could not have a future with Jillian Descharme.

  He hadn't expected it to be so damn hard.

  * * * *

  Jillian paused long enough from eating triple-fudge mocha almond ice cream to down more aspirin. It wasn't her best choice, she supposed, but neither was letting her wrenched shoulder throb constantly. The doctor had warned her to take it easy, but it was difficult to do so when delivering a 90-pound foal. Unless she delivered the foal with her feet. Maybe I should have tried that. Now both arms were strained and bruised, and the shoulder hurt like hell.

  "Mighty fine butt, lots of muscle. Privilege just to see a butt like that." Birkie took another spoonful of ice cream. The two were sitting on Jillian's couch with their feet propped comfortably on the sagging coffee table. "I might be old, but honey, I've got eyes."

  Jillian poked fiercely at her own bowl and told herself she didn't give a damn about James' butt, the fact that she'd once wanted to compare it to the rest of his appealing physique notwithstanding. And for the five hundredth time she ruthlessly yanked her mind back from the sexy dream she'd had in the night about him. Much more of this and she was so going to order a shiny new vibrator from the Internet. Maybe a blue one ....

  "So what did you talk about in the kennel? I saw Connor leave just before I did. You and James must have had a bit of time to yourselves."

  "Nothing really. We never seem to have much of a conversation. Besides I was, well--" Thinking about how much she'd like to jump James, but she couldn't say that. "I was really tired, and I left."

  "Left?" Birkie snorted, leaned forward and pointed her spoon at the younger woman. "Honey, the moment you get too tired to spend time with a handsome man who's smitten with you, you are definitely working too hard. Sounds like we got you some days off just in the nick of time."

  "I ... you ... he is not smitten with me. He doesn't even know me. And I don't even know him. And what kind of an archaic word is smitten anyway?"

  "Ha. Smitten's a perfect word for someone who shows up here every single day."

  "Oh, come on. Davis Jenkins is in here daily, and he's definitely not fond of any of us."

  "Davis just likes to complain and drink up the free coffee in the waiting room while he does it. James Macleod on the other hand, likes you quite a bit."

  "Since when?"

  "Oh, I'd say since all the way back to when Ruby brought Cujo in. You didn't see the way James was looking at you. I did, though. I stood in the doorway and watched him hold that dog. Ruby was talking a mile a minute about the price of lamb, but he wasn't listening to a word. His eyes were on you the whole time."

  "He was probably just interested in what I was doing. More people than you might think like to watch stitching and surgery and all kinds of things like that. That's why Reality TV is so popular."

  "And that's why he was staring at your face?"

  "He was not."

  "Was too. Was today as well, when you were treating that pony that ran into a hornet's nest."

  "Well, if he was, I didn't notice." She wasn't about to admit that it gave her a pleasant little flutter to know that he might have been looking at her. "The pony sure calmed down a lot when James came along, though. The owner wasn't any help at all."

  "Don't forget how James hot-footed it out to the corral that time he saw Gerald Mountney Jr. giving you a bad time."

  "I didn't need any help."

  "Course not. But that's not the point. The point is that James was prepared to dive in and do whatever was necessary. He would have defended you if you'd wanted him to, you know."

  "Yeah, I get that. It's a guy thing. So?"

  "So he didn't. Because he also knew you didn't want him to. That tells me he's thought about you and how you think, how you feel. Therefore he likes you. A lot."

  Jillian narrowed her eyes at her friend. "Are you sure you're not a detective or something? Do you keep notes on all this stuff?"

  "Just observant, hon. And even an old duck like me isn't going to turn down an opportunity to observe someone like James Macleod. That man is mighty scrumptious eye candy." Birkie's grin was unrepentant. "Although seeing Mountney peel out of there with his forked tail between his legs was an unexpected bonus. He hasn't been back since, either."

  Jillian rolled her eyes. "Okay, okay. We've established that James is hot, and I'm attracted. I don't know what difference it makes. Maybe he looks at me, maybe he even kind of likes me--maybe--but it's not like he's ever asked me out. We never talk. We probably have nothing in common."

  "Bah. I'll bet you have plenty in common. For one thing, both of you are very talented with animals. James has taken over Connor's farm for him, and you wanna believe that place is going to flourish from now on. He's already made a lot of changes."

  "I heard something about that. I guess it's a good thing for Connor. He's so busy, I don't know how he ever had time for a farm."

  Birkie carefully spooned a chocolate-covered almond out of her ice cream, savored it for a long moment. "Connor bought the place about eight or nine years ago at an auction. He wanted to live out of town, and he liked the land. Big place and pretty, too, backing right onto the Peace River. But you're right, he just hasn't had the time to make the farm produce. He bought a small herd of Highland cattle when he started out, but they just turned into big shaggy pets. Really, the farm's just become a catch-all for some of the unwanted animals he comes across in his practice."

  "God knows there's too many of those."

  "Amen. And we try to find homes for as many as we can, but when we can't, the creature generally finds its way to Connor's farm. He must have quite a menagerie by now."

  "So James is managing the place for him?"

  "Yup. More than a manager, though, he's a full partner in the operation. Moved into a house of his own out there, too."

  "Huh. Guess he's not homeless and jobless anymore." Jillian found herself unexpectedly relieved.

  "Exactly. So when are you going out to visit the Macleod farm?"

  "What? When Connor invites me, I guess. I'd say when James invites me, but I'll be old and gray before that happens."

  Birkie made little tsk-tsking noises. "My dear, you have to be a lot more proactive if you ever expect to get to know James any better."

  "I know that look. What you really mean is devious. I don't know if I'm that interested."

  Her friend just looked at her.

  "Okay, Okay, I am. Just out of curiosity, mind you."

  "Of course. So when do you want to visit James on his home turf?"

  Jillian put up her hands. "I give up. You're the mastermind. You tell me."

  "Well, it just so happens I have some plants and things for Connor. Maybe you could find time to do me a favor on your day off, make a little delivery?"

  Chapter Nineteen

  As a veterinarian, Jillian had been to countless farms. But she'd never assign the word 'beautiful' to any of them. The Macleod farm was an exception. A long wooded lane led to a sprawling two-story house nestled in the trees. The old building had been made over into something that spoke of both history and comfort. The roofed porch that wrapped around two sides of the house had a charming assortment of mismatched chairs and rockers scattered about, and a couple of hanging swings. Pots of newly planted flowers sat in groups everywhere. Sprawling beds of yellow daylilies and purple irises flanked the steps. The effect was one of invitation, of welcome.

  She parked the truck in front of the steps, took Birkie's trays of plants to the porch and set them carefully in front of the door. She knew there was no one at the house. Connor was in surgery this afternoon. There was no sign of anyone else eit
her. No sign of James, and that was a bit of a letdown, even if she knew he was likely busy. It was a sunny and pleasant day, however, and who could blame her if she decided to walk around a little?

  Most farmyards were as clear-cut and visually barren as the fields beyond them but not here. Jillian counted five species of trees she knew and two she didn't in tall dense stands between every building. And every barn and shed was freshly painted in clean bright white with simple black trim to match the house. A refreshing change from the usual garish red barn paint most farmers favored when they bothered to paint anything at all.

  The buildings, although in good repair, looked to be of the same era as the house. The fencing, however, was a sharp contrast. No battered wood here, no patched and spliced wire. Instead, steel rails gleamed between steel posts, all in tidy black. Jillian recognized the brand label as top of the line. No haphazard enclosures here either, but tidy, organized corrals and paddocks, linked in places by modern chutes. A clean and efficient operation yet far from sterile, Jillian thought. Animals probably enjoy living here. God knows there's enough of them. Dogs, cats, goats, chickens, and even a couple of outsized pigs seemed to have the run of the place. She couldn't help but smile as she recognized a few of the dogs, knew Connor had adopted them when their owners had requested euthanasia for reasons of convenience rather than mercy. They bounced over to her, swarmed her with affection. She laughed and tried to distribute petting and head rubs to all.

  A sudden voice made her jump. "Looking for something?"

  The dogs left her at once in favor of James. Jillian saw with interest that they didn't jump and leap but sat grinning at his feet. He gave them each a quick pat and turned his attention back to her. "What brings you out here?"