Touch of the Wolf

by Karen Whiddon

  Still clutching the phone, Sam snagged a mug and poured herself a cup of coffee. The library was open, though her first meeting wasn’t for another half hour and she needed to get her caffeine fix before then. “If Luc Herrick comes around asking questions, don’t tell him anything.”

  “Of course I won’t. Look, I’ve got to let you go. My staff’s here, along with the first patient of the day.”

  After clicking off the phone, Sam sipped her coffee and tried to think.

  Werewolves. While she knew they didn’t exist, when talk had started around town, she’d gotten chills. Mostly because she’d dreamed of wolves ever since she was a small child. She even used to pretend she could magically become a wolf. Like a werewolf.

  When a group of hysterical teenagers had claimed to see a man changing into a wolf in one of the untamed, wooded areas near the lake, most people had dismissed their claims, figuring they’d been smoking weed or drinking. They’d poohpoohed the story.

  Until Charles Pentworth stepped forward and backed them up. He’d seen the werewolf, too, on numerous occasions, he claimed. He hadn’t said anything until now because he feared people would consider him crazy.

  At that, the gossip had escalated. The town had divided into two camps. Some said Charles was crazy, and wanted to know what he was doing lurking in the woods. Stress must have gotten to him, causing him to see things that weren’t there.

  Others, knowing Charles to be the most analytical mind in seven counties, seemed inclined to believe him. After all, he ran the First Savings and Loan Bank and sat on the city council. People believed his words lent credence to the kids’ claim.

  Sam tried to stay out of the fray. So did Patricia. Privately, they’d both wondered about motive. Why would someone try to convince an entire town he was a werewolf? What were his plans?

  Then Hilda Ramos had a sighting. She’d been the police dispatcher for years and was well-liked and well-respected.

  The town had been divided squarely ever since. Debates ran hot and heavy between those who believed in the werewolf and those who didn’t, proving once again that the age-old complaint of teenagers was accurate: there really wasn’t enough to do in a small town like Anniversary.

  Keeping to the shadows of the forest that ringed the lake, he wavered between human and wolf. Most humans thought him a myth. The Pack wanted to keep things that way and would be furious once they learned he’d allowed human strangers to see him change.

  Michael didn’t care. He wasn’t Pack, he was Outside. Sickness ravaged his body and the disease affected his mind. He knew he was dying. When he’d heard a rumor of a Halfling with power, a Halfling like himself, he’d come to this small community southeast of Dallas on the slim chance the rumors were true.

  A dying man grasped at any straw.

  Thus far, though he watched the woman night and day, he’d seen nothing to lend the stories credence. Yet he wouldn’t give up, couldn’t give up. If the slightest chance existed that her touch could make him well, he’d claim her healing power for his own. The one who controlled a true healer could rule not only the Pack, but the world.

  When his cell phone rang as he climbed into his rental car, Luc knew who was calling without looking at the caller ID. Sometimes his days were like that.

  “Checking up on me?”

  The mayor of Leaning Tree chuckled. “Maybe. The entire town’s excited. You know how it is. Everyone’s talking, and they want me to keep them apprised of your progress.”

  “I’ve only been here two days.”

  “Time enough to learn the truth. So tell me, is she a healer?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Frank let his exasperation sound in his voice, which was unlike him. A true politician, he rarely showed any emotion besides enthusiasm. “Can’t you simply ask her?”

  “I did. She said no. Even worse, if this woman is a healer, she has no idea about her heritage. She knows nothing about shifters or the Pack.”

  Frank’s shocked silence said what the normally garrulous man thought of that.

  “I’m afraid this is going to take longer than we thought,” Luc warned, running his free hand through his hair. “I can’t just bulldoze in and expect her to believe me.”

  The sharp hiss of breath on the other end of the line was answer enough. “Lucy doesn’t have that much time.”

  “Believe me, I know that.”

  “Are you sure she doesn’t know?”

  “Absolutely. If she can do what Tomas Barerra says she can, she must think she has some sort of gift. That is, if she really can heal.” He let his dubious tone speak for itself. “I’ve seen no proof, so far. I’m not sure I’ve actually found a healer here.” His chest ached at the thought. If Sam wasn’t one, Lucy would die.

  Frank sighed. “Ask her about Tomas.”

  “I did. She’s admitted nothing. All everyone is talking about around here is the werewolf who’s been lurking in the woods.”

  “You mentioned that. What is he? A rogue shifter?”

  “Maybe. I’m looking into it. One thing for sure, he gave me a perfect reason to be in town. You know everyone’s been wanting me to write a book debunking werewolves.”

  “True, true.” The other man chuckled. “More protection for us. Every time some book or movie proves we’re not real, we benefit. Imagine how old Bessie up in Loch Ness feels.”

  Luc grinned. His book on the so-called Loch Ness Monster had been a rousing success. “Still,” he said, sobering, “I don’t understand why this shifter is skulking around town. He’s frightening them.”

  “It’s been a while since I’ve heard about a rogue anywhere, except for that serial killer a few years back.”

  They both fell silent, remembering. One of Luc’s friends, Alex Lupe, had nearly lost his wife Lyssa to that killer.

  Clearing his throat, Frank continued. “These days, everyone has some Pack affiliation. Have you talked to the Texas Pack? They’re the ones who helped compile the information on Sam Warren.”

  “Yes. They know nothing about who he is or why he’s revealing himself to humans. They’ve asked me to check into it also. If this is a true rogue, he’s in their jurisdiction. They’ll have to handle him.”

  “We don’t need complications.” Frank sounded weary. “All I want is for you to bring home this healer. Brenna and Carson—heck, our entire town—need some fresh hope.”

  Hope had come too late for Luc’s brother. Closing his eyes against the familiar, piercing pain, he didn’t tell the mayor that he still had times where he picked up the phone to call and started dialing the number, before realizing Kyle was gone. Though Kyle’d been his half brother and a Halfling to boot, they’d grown up together and been best friends. Luc missed him more than words could say.

  “I don’t know about her, Frank. I’ve met her, spent time with her. She admits nothing.”

  “You asked her, straight-out?” The mayor sounded incredulous. Probably because he knew Luc better that that.

  “Yes.” Dragging his hand through his hair, Luc tried to explain his feelings. “She’s…different.”

  “Of course she’s different!” The normally placid man exploded. “She’s a healer. They’re rare. I don’t understand the problem.”

  “We don’t know she’s a healer.” Though he realized he sounded cynical, Luc hated how everyone in Leaning Tree had taken a nine-year-old boy’s word and instantly believed in miracles. Luc knew better. He’d like to have a chat with the lad’s parents. Nothing like getting an entire town’s hopes up and then leaving him to quash them.

  And then Carson and Brenna and Lucy. Thinking about the hope they insisted on clinging to made him want to weep.

  Sometimes Luc hated his job. Especially lately.

  He tried again. “You don’t understand—you haven’t met her. There’s something about her…” He swallowed, knowing he couldn’t tell the other man about the persistent feeling that she was his mate.

  “Go on.”

&nb
sp; Luc took a deep breath. He had to try. “She’s…disturbing.” To say the least.

  “So she could be a healer then?”

  At the bald excitement in Frank’s voice, Luc winced. “I don’t know. Not necessarily. I can find no signs that she even knows she’s a Halfling.”

  “So you’ve said. But what about the desire to change? If she is a Halfling, unless someone is suppressing it, she has to know. Unless…”

  Unless she was truly a healer. Legend said healers were never able to change. They channeled that energy into healing instead.

  And Sam claimed not to believe in shape-shifters.

  Frank concluded the call by asking if Luc needed anything, as though he planned to send a care package full of charitable goods. While Luc appreciated him asking, he told the other man he was fine.

  Taking a deep breath, he collected his thoughts. Now to find Sam without appearing to stalk her, even though he was. The irony of it all made him grimace. Within the Pack, Luc held the honor of top hunter. He found his prey more quickly, made the cleanest kills, and his skill was legendary. Yet he questioned his ability to do this. Hunting a human woman felt far different than hunting a deer or rabbit as a wolf. Especially when he had to fight the sensation that she was his mate.

  Chapter 3

  “I called the adoption agency again.” Sam stirred her drink, touching her tongue to the salty rim before taking a sip. Los Hombres Mexican Restaurant was known for the best margaritas in town, and she and her best friend, Patricia, tried to visit at least every other month.

  “Any progress?”

  “I’m now sixth on the list.” The last time she’d checked, five months ago, she’d been tenth.

  “Fantastic.” Patricia raised her glass in a toast. “But Sam, even though you keep saying you want a baby, I still don’t understand why you don’t want to wait until you remarry.”

  Clinking their glasses together, they each drank. Then Sam said, “You know how I feel. Marriage is not in the cards for me. I’m not even dating, so it’s not like remarriage is an issue. I’m thirty-one. I want a child. I can’t wait too much longer.”

  Patricia winced. She and Sam were the same age.

  “Hey, you have a boyfriend.” Sam hurried to console her. “Who keeps begging you to marry him. You’re the one who doesn’t want to be tied down.”

  “Still, raising a child alone is tough.”

  “True. But I can do it, you know I can. Just because Eric and I divorced doesn’t mean I have to give up on my dream of being a mother.”

  Patricia knew how badly Sam longed for family. “I agree, but Sam, not that much time has passed since your divorce. You might meet someone, try again.”

  “Even if I do, you know I can’t conceive. The plane crash did something to me. They’ve already run all the tests.” Sam snatched up another chip and dunked it in the dish of salsa. She wanted her friend to stop rehashing what couldn’t be changed. “Can we drop this now? I was excited about the adoption agency’s call.”

  “I’m sorry.” Patricia looked anything but. “But let me say one more thing. I bet if you adopt, you’ll turn up pregnant.”

  “You need a man for that.”

  “You’re sixth on the list. By the time you get moved up to the number one spot, you might have a man.”

  Sam made a rude sound.

  Doggedly, Patricia continued. “You know how celebrities are always adopting and then they get pregnant. Look at Brangelina.”

  “I’d rather not.”

  Wisely, Patricia dropped the topic. “Tell me what’s really bothering you.”

  Biting her lip, Sam considered. Then, in a few words, she told about the sensations Luc Herrick aroused in her.

  “Sam…” From the tone of Patricia’s voice, something was worrying her. “I don’t know about him. He makes me uneasy. He’s been around the clinic a couple of times now, asking pointed questions about you healing that wolf pup. When I asked him what he knew about that, he just shrugged and said something to the effect that the wolf let itself out.”

  “He said the same thing to me.” She took a deep breath. “You didn’t tell him anything, did you?”

  “Of course not. But he seemed more interested in what you could do than in learning about the werewolf.”

  “Can you blame him? Even if he’s writing a book, he knows such a thing is impossible.”

  “Impossible?” Patricia widened her eyes in mock surprise. “But Charles Pentworth saw the werewolf, remember? So did several others. More than one person. Therefore, it must be true.”

  Back on familiar ground, Sam laughed. Teasing she could deal with. “Joining Charles’s camp, are you?”

  Her friend grinned back. “You never know.”

  “Yesterday Luc was trying to convince me that there are a lot of other species roaming around among us.”

  “Other species?” Patricia looked intrigued. “Like what?”

  “Mermaids for one.”

  “Anatomically impossible.”

  “And vampires, ghosts, shape-shifters.”

  This time, Patricia didn’t comment. Instead, she stabbed a bit of avocado with her fork and leaned forward. “You know, sometimes I wonder. You can heal animals by touching them. If you can do that, why do you refuse to believe a werewolf is possible? For someone who can practically perform miracles, you seem awfully close-minded sometimes.”

  Perform miracles. Sam had told Luc she was not a miracle worker. Putting the thought from her mind, she took another bite of her tortilla. “Close-minded works well for me.”

  Patricia shook her head. “If you’re happy, I’m happy. But you need to be careful around this Luc guy.”

  “I will. I really think he’s harmless.”

  “As long as he doesn’t find out what you can do. I’m afraid he wants to use you. Though you could do an awful lot of good.”

  Sam sighed. That was another old discussion, and one that invariably led nowhere.

  The waiter arrived with their second round. “Your dinners will be right out, ladies.”

  They both nodded, watching him walk away.

  “My turn to change the subject.” Taking a deep breath, Sam snagged another chip. “After this, do you want to go shopping with me?”

  Patricia stared, her own chip halfway to her mouth. “Shopping? You don’t like to shop.”

  “I know, but I want to decorate the nursery.”

  “The…do you mean that empty extra bedroom?”

  “Yes. The nursery.”

  “You’re sixth down the list. It could be months, maybe even a year or two, before they call with a baby for you.”

  With a shrug, Sam nodded. “True, but I still want to decorate. It might take me that long to get the room exactly like I want.”

  “You’re scaring me.” Patricia rolled her eyes. “What happened to the laid-back gal I know and love?”

  “She’s got an agenda now,” Sam stated firmly, then waited. She knew her friend. Patricia adored shopping. She wouldn’t be able to resist.

  A second later, she tilted her head. “What exactly did you want to go shopping for, anyway?”

  “Furniture. Since I have a dresser I’m refinishing, I want to buy a crib and changing table. And of course, the all-important rocking chair.”

  “Hmm.” Patricia crossed her arms. “I suppose you haven’t thought about maybe painting the room first?”

  “I already did. Last weekend I painted all four walls yellow.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes. I want to be ready when they call.” Ever since her application to adopt had been accepted, she’d hardly been able to think of anything else.

  The waiter reappeared, carrying a large tray. “Here you go.” He placed their plates in front of them, steaming platters of chicken enchiladas, rice and refried beans.

  Everything smelled wonderful.

  “And last but not least, flour tortillas. Do you ladies need anything else?”

  Eyeing the fo
od, they shook their heads, and he disappeared.

  “I love this place.” Sam closed her eyes, savoring the spicy flavors of cheese and chicken and cilantro. “It always smells so wonderful in here.”

  “You know, you’re one of the only people I know who mentions scent before sight.”

  “Is that bad?”

  “Of course not.” Patricia looked thoughtful. “It’s a trait peculiar to some animals, particularly canines.”

  They finished their meal and paid, then sauntered out into the bright sunlight.

  “Your car or mine?”

  Since Patricia drove a Dodge pickup, Sam chose it.

  “More room to carry stuff,” she explained. “Let’s go look at cribs.”

  Several hours later, with their mission accomplished, they arrived back at Sam’s house. She’d chosen a pale butterscotch for the nursery, a soothing color and one that would work for either a boy or a girl. For decorations she’d done forest scenes, huge cartoon animals romping joyfully among towering trees.

  Helping her carry in the crib, Patricia stopped in amazement. “Wow. This looks fantastic. Did you use stencils?”

  “Nope. I drew on the wall with pencil and then painted in the colors.”

  “I never knew you were an artist.”

  Sam shrugged. “I’m not. This was special.”

  They moved the crib into the corner she’d chosen and went back to the pickup for the matching changing table.

  Patricia returned for the rocker and Sam wandered the nursery, running a hand over the furniture’s smooth finish. Hard to imagine that one day there’d be a baby. Not just any baby, but hers. To love and protect and cherish. Her longing had become a palpable thing, keeping her awake at night.

  Sam imagined herself pregnant. She pushed away the thought. Rounds of fertility tests with abnormal results had convinced both her and Eric that she was sterile. She hadn’t just lost her chance to have a baby; she’d lost a husband, too.

  She turned toward the door as she heard Patricia coming back. Their friendship was one of the few good things left in her life. That, and Sam’s unwavering ability to heal sick animals. A child to love would only enrich her and make her life complete.