Heart of the Winter Wolf

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

  "I brought some bedding plants over for Connor. Birkie sent some things from her greenhouse. I didn't know what to do with them."

  "Where are they?"

  "On the porch." She stood open-mouthed as he immediately strode across the yard in the direction of his brother's house. She walked quickly but was forced to break into a jog just to try to catch up. Jillian made it to the bottom of the steps just as James scooped up the trays from in front of the door.

  "I'm sorry, should I have put them somewhere else?"

  "Anywhere but with Connor. I don't know how anyone so gifted with animals can have such a black thumb when it comes to plants."

  Jillian looked around at the abundance of flowers spilling out of pots and overflowing the garden on either side of the steps. "He seems to do all right with these."

  James shook his head as he swept by her with the trays. "I filled the pots and cleaned up the garden. Connor had thistles the size of trees growing here."

  "What kind of plants did Birkie give you?" She was trying to be pleasant but it was irritating to have to hurry to keep up again. She nearly ran into him when he stopped suddenly.

  "You don't know them?"

  "No. I studied zoology not botany. I can recognize a few things like the geraniums on the porch, but these have no flowers." She was surprised to see him--what? It wasn't a smile or a grin, but the ghost of each, a faint crook of one corner of his mouth. Still it had the effect of lightening his face, easing the fierce brow, although those blue Viking eyes were just as piercing. Jillian scanned the trays he was holding and pointed to a dark-leafed plant. "So what's this one here?"

  In answer he pulled a leaf off and crumbled it under her nose.

  "Recognize it now?"

  "It's familiar but I can't place it."

  "Basil. Haven't you ever cooked with fresh basil?"

  "I've never even cooked with the dried up stuff in the little jars. But I've eaten pesto in restaurants so at least I know that I like basil." She pointed to another one. "What's this one that looks like tubular grass?"

  "Chives."

  "Are they all herbs?"

  "Most of them. Connor is actually a decent cook when he has the time."

  "Connor? Our Connor? The same man that gets so busy he forgets to eat? He must only cook about once a year then."

  James chuckled at that and set off across the yard again. Slower this time.

  "I have to say that this place looks terrific." Jillian was able to fall in step--almost. His legs were still a lot longer than hers. "I see a lot of farms, but this one really stands out. What do you produce here?"

  "Nothing much yet. There's lots of preparation to be done before we raise anything."

  "I'd love to hear about it." Then she had a brainwave that Birkie would be proud of. "Or I've got time for a tour if it's easier to show me."

  He glanced at her as if to see if she was sincere, then stopped at a shed and tucked the plants inside. "These will be out of the sun here. I'll get them later."

  The tour began with the closest corral, which contained three enormous Highland bulls. Their sweeping horns reminded Jillian of the Texas Longhorn of cowboy movie fame, but that's where the resemblance ended. Their shaggy fur and stocky build was more reminiscent of Ice Age oxen. It was a breed that Jillian hadn't encountered close up yet, and she got closer than expected as James led her right inside the corral with the creatures. They nosed their way over to him with an amiability she'd seldom seen in cattle, stood patiently as James scratched their foreheads under the fringe of long hair that hid their eyes. "Hardy beasts," he was saying. "Well suited to the kind of winter we get up here in northern Canada." He talked about their history, the pros and cons of using them as a beef-producing breed.

  She thought at first that the bulls were unusually gentle, but the experience was repeated with each enclosure. Jillian began to understand that there was something unusual about James, not the animals. Did he have some sort of calming influence or aura, something that animals were able to sense? Was that why he had been able to restrain Cujo? And that poor pony that had been badly stung by a nest of hornets. It had been a frightened wreck. Until James came by. The animal had settled down immediately and allowed Jillian to treat it. Too bad James couldn't calm the owner as well, but you can't have everything.

  Jillian glanced up at James as they walked among the corrals. He was relaxed, at home here. The warrior visage was softened, nearly non-existent, as he spoke of his visions for the farm. He had a deep passion for what he was doing, she realized anew. Just as she felt a soul-deep fervor for veterinary medicine, James Macleod had an affinity for the earth. It was easy to listen to him. She'd never paid much attention to agriculture outside of the health of livestock. Now she was getting a glimpse of how much farming was both an art and a science.

  The horses in the far paddock spotted James and trotted over at once, just as every other creature here had done. With a start, Jillian realized she was more than a little envious of that. With the exception of dogs, most animals didn't run up to you unless they were hoping for food. Certainly livestock seldom showed interest when most farmers approached unless grain was involved. And animals definitely didn't run up to veterinarians. Well, except for Poodle. He always seemed pleased to be at the clinic, but the old Siamese cat was decidedly eccentric.

  "You're like the Pied Piper," she blurted as a pig that must weigh close to 600 pounds ambled over to receive a scratch on the head from James.

  "Why is that?"

  "They all adore you. Look at the parade behind us, for heaven's sake." Jillian waved her free hand at the entourage that followed them. Dogs certainly, but also cats, goats, two pigs and an assortment of chickens and geese. "Why do they do that?"

  James grinned. "Animals are excellent judges of character." And that was all the explanation he would give her.

  Eventually they came to the edge of the farmyard where the trees gave way to rolling green fields. "What have you planted here?" she asked. The plants were nothing like the orderly grain fields she'd expected. These were bushy with twisted, sprawling stems and an abundance of leaves.

  "Green manure."

  She wrinkled her nose. "What?"

  "Seriously. Part of organic farming is to use natural methods to enrich the soil instead of chemical fertilizer. This is a field of alfalfa. It has very long roots that bring minerals up to the topsoil from deep in the earth. And it has the ability to take nitrogen from the air and put that into the soil, too."

  "Don't they make hay out of this stuff?"

  "Most of the time, but alfalfa's a perennial and this field is several years old, too old to make good hay. See how it's got a lot of stems? So instead of harvesting it, I'm going to wait another week and then plow it under while it's still green to enrich the soil even further. Voila, green manure."

  "So there's no real manure involved?"

  "No, it's just a slang term for growing a crop strictly as fertilizer. Although we do compost real manure to put back into the soil, but it'll be a year, maybe two before it's ready to use."

  "It really means a lot to you to convert this farm to organic production."

  Her hand was resting on his arm. He stared at it a moment then covered it with his own hand as if to keep it there. "It does. We don't have to destroy the land in order to persuade it to feed us. And I feel better eating food that was produced this way. Other people have other opinions of course."

  Jillian looked up at him, studied his face. "You really believe in what you're doing, and I like that. I like the way you care about the land, and I like the way you care about the animals. I guess that means I like you."

  She'd succeeded in surprising him, yet shouldn't he look pleased or happy or something? Maybe he wasn't as interested as Birkie thought he was. Oh great, now he's frowning. Maybe coming here was a huge mistake.

  Or maybe not. James was still frowning, but his powerful hands had slid around her, gently gathering her in. He lowered his face to
hers, eyes open as if to gauge her reaction. Jillian reached up to tangle her fingers in his white-blond hair and met his lips with her own. She poured herself into the kiss, felt the thrill of it vibrate through both of them. She felt reckless, exhilarated, as if she were leaping from a great height into a deep pool.

  But the water wasn't still. Powerful currents rocked her, an ocean of sensation carried her along at dizzying speed. Each time she tried to surface, James changed the angle of the kiss and pulled her under. His lips were hot over hers, soft but relentless. Jillian had one hand still fisted in James' hair, the other gripping his shoulder as he simply flowed into her system like the tide. She had tried to meet the kiss as she met everything else in her life, head on, trusting her own strength and mind and skill to prevail. But they were useless tools here. The tide was too powerful, the water too deep and fast, the inescapable pull of an undertow drawing her steadily towards the silky bottom. With James. She sighed and sank willingly into the nameless, sweet sea.

  * * * *

  James felt her sigh shiver right through him, felt the subtle shift in her, a yielding. He wanted her, wanted to feel her skin against his, wanted to touch and to taste. The blood was pounding in his head and throbbing in his groin as he ran his hands over her, held her tightly to him and ached to be closer still. His hand found its way under her blouse and cupped a teacup breast, felt the delicate nipple pressing into his palm through the silky bra. James shifted, trailed kisses along the angles of her face and down her throat.

  Yes, yes, yes. With a start he realized he wasn't alone. The wolf was present and it was eager. Eager to have him claim Jillian fully.

  No. With difficulty, James pulled back. God, he wanted nothing more than to continue what he was doing. But he wasn't about to give in to the wolf's plans for his life, or do something that might eventually endanger Jillian. And so he pulled back while he still could. He smoothed her blouse back into place and rubbed his hands up and down her upper arms. He was about to say he had work to do and probably she did too and maybe she should go--but those sea green eyes, still dreamy with arousal, were looking up at him. "Maybe we should continue our tour," he heard himself say.

  "Maybe we should."

  Her lips curved. They were still soft and full from kissing, and he very nearly bent his head to capture them again. But he could feel the wolf within and would not let it have its way. Dared not. If he kissed her again right now, he couldn't stop himself a second time. A horse nickered nearby, penetrating James' awareness, and James seized upon it like a life preserver. He tore his gaze away from those green eyes and looked out over the fields. If he didn't look at her, didn't fall into her eyes again, maybe he'd be okay. Still, he had to clear his throat twice to get his voice to work properly. "If you'd like to see some of the rest of the farm, we could go back and get the truck." His hands were still on her shoulders but he held her away from him. Not much--maybe an inch or two--but it gave him a chance to breathe. "Or we could ride. It's a good day for it. You like horses, right?"

  "I love working with horses--but I don't know how to ride."

  "What? You're kidding, right?" Genuinely shocked, he forgot his intentions and looked down at her.

  Jillian shrugged. "I grew up in the city, never really got exposed to them. And then when I went to veterinary college, believe me, I was too busy learning about their inner workings to learn how to ride them. I always wanted to learn, though."

  "No time like the present." He was relieved to find he could let go of her now. His brain was even starting to work--probably getting some blood flow again. James took a couple steps away and whistled shrilly, a four-note sound guaranteed to carry.

  "What are you doing?"

  "Calling Charlie."

  "That appaloosa with the crooked legs? But he's in the corral up by the house."

  "Not for long."

  Jillian started to say something, but James had a finger to his lips. Moments passed. With his Changeling hearing, the sounds of hoof beats were immediately audible. But he could see it didn't take long for Jillian to hear them, too. A pale horse with a riot of spots and speckles in his coat rounded the last shed and trotted towards them. An enormous gray draft horse and a trio of chubby ponies followed him. They milled around James like big dogs eager for play.

  "Somebody knows how to open gates." Jillian chuckled.

  But James didn't reply right away. He was watching her patting and stroking the glossy coats with both hands, grinning as the soft noses nuzzled her. There was sheer delight on her face. He'd never seen that expression before and it fascinated him. She laughed out loud as the draft horse nudged her a little too hard with his massive nose and sent her skidding on her butt in the dirt.

  James laughed then, too, and reached a hand for her. She expected him to pull her to her feet. Instead he picked her up and tossed her, wide-eyed, onto the back of the culprit.

  "Omigod, he's huge. I'm going to get a nosebleed up here." But she didn't ask to get down. Her hands were already running over the dappled gray neck, winding through the silky white mane. "What's his name?"

  "Toby. And he is huge. He's over eighteen hands high. I think his head alone weighs as much as you do." James eyed her speculatively. "Maybe a bit more."

  She sniffed at that and leaned further over Toby's neck to pet him. "So does Charlie break out regularly?"

  "Whenever we ask him to. Sometimes when we don't. Charlie can open every gate and door in the place, lets his friends out too sometimes as you can see."

  "You must spend a lot of time rounding up animals."

  "Nope. Charlie does that. He's an incredible cow-horse, best I've ever seen. More like a big sheep dog really." James scratched the appaloosa behind the ears. "He can't carry much weight with those legs of his, but he doesn't need to be ridden. He brings the cows in when we tell him to, or singles out the ones we need to work on, all on his own."

  "But the other horses--"

  "Will stay with him. He's not the biggest, but he's the herd leader and they don't stray. We're going to take our tour of the rest of the farm, and they'll all just follow us."

  "They will?" That was as far as Jillian got before James suddenly vaulted up beside her in one smooth cat-like motion. He settled in close behind her, chuckling at her open-mouthed surprise. "Practice," he answered before she could ask. Although he knew there were few if any humans who could mount a horse of Toby's size without stirrups and from a standing start, no matter how much they practiced. Being a Changeling had some pretty good perks.

  He waited for the next question as he nudged Toby forward. She didn't disappoint him. "Hold it, we don't have a bridle or reins or--"

  "Don't need them, doc. Both Toby and Charlie are used to being guided by legs alone."

  "You're kidding."

  "Nope. Ask Connor. He rides Charlie just like this all the time. So does Kenzie when she comes out to visit."

  "Your sister does this?"

  "Uh-huh. She's pretty good at it. I can teach you if you like. So you don't ride at all?" He was still surprised by that.

  "Not a bit." She was accustomed to treating horses, not riding them, with both of her feet firmly on the ground. "I've sat on a horse inside a corral once or twice, but that's all."

  "Well, then there'll be a whole bunch of things you won't have to unlearn."

  Jillian surveyed her mount and ventured to lean over the side. "Toby is tall and broad and gray all over. Are you sure he isn't an elephant? I think I should take lessons on something a lot closer to the ground."

  James laughed and brushed a kiss on top of her head, dared to nuzzle her wayward blonde hair and enjoyed the scent of it. "You can try riding one of the ponies later if you want. For now, just pretend Toby is a tour bus and enjoy the ride." He wrapped an arm around her waist and nudged Toby into a brisk trot, chuckled as Jillian scrabbled to wind her hands into the horse's mane. "I won't let you fall, doc. I promise. Relax."

  She glared back at him. "I'm perched on top of
a tour bus with no visible means of control. It's a little tough to feel safe."

  "Trust me."

  "I'll try."

  He smiled at the hesitation in her voice, then moved Toby into an easy gallop. "Wait, wait, wait," she squealed.

  "I told you to trust me," he said with his lips near her ear.

  "You didn't tell me you were going to go fast." She had a death grip on Toby's mane.

  "Believe me, this is easier on you than a trot. See how you're not bouncing now?" He put his hands over hers. "Look, give me your hands. Let me hold them while you relax and feel how to move with the horse."

  "You mean let go? Are you nuts?"

  "I'm not hanging on to anything and I'm okay," he pointed out. "It's balance, Jillian. You know all about balance from whatever martial art it is that you follow."

  "How did you know about that?"

  "Your reflexes. And that power punch to the gut at the clinic. Not to mention that little battle in the loft we had--those little fists of yours really drill between the ribs. So what is it exactly that you practice?"

  "Tae Kwon Do."

  "Belt?"

  "Blue. It's a little past intermediate. I'm preparing to test for red in the fall."

  He nodded appreciatively. "Okay then, you know plenty about balance. So you can do this. Trust me and let go. Trust yourself." They were doing a large loping circle around the field now, with Charlie and the ponies following close behind. When Jillian still hesitated, James pressed his very best button. "You're not afraid, are you?"

  Her fingers released the mane at once, and he had to stifle a laugh. Instead he held her hands, marveling anew at how small they were, seemingly too small to hold so much skill and talent, certainly too small to have knocked the wind from him after that first kiss in the clinic. He brushed his thumbs over the palms, then held her hands out from her sides. "Close your eyes, doc. Pretend Toby's a circus horse."

  "I thought he was a tour bus."

  "That's just his day job. Now he's a circus horse and we're the performers." James was surprised and pleased when she closed her eyes at once, when she lifted her hands free from his and held her arms straight out. He rested his hands lightly on her waist then and used his legs to direct Toby into intricate patterns and paces. Jillian never faltered. She had a natural grace, would make an excellent rider.