The Juneau Packs 1
By
Katherine Rhodes
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Taming Alaska
All rights reserved.
Copyright 2019 © Katherine Rhodes
Cover: JRA Stevens for Down Write Nuts
Formatting: Down Write Nuts
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher
Five friends.
One Summer.
Everything changes.
We wanted to celebrate the end of college. The end of all the hard work, the beginning of our new lives. Brandy had the perfect place:
Alaska.
Jess
There were problems with the house, the wildlife, the land. The only thing that wasn't a problem was the neighbor: Garrett Pauler. We hired him to fix the house, and he did way more than that.
There was something in the woods though. Something that didn't want us there, something that would go to any lengths to get rid of us. But it shared the woods with something-- someone determined to keep us safe.
Garrett
The old Yeil place was a disaster, but I wasn't above the challenge. The challenge lay in the gorgeous woman who was waiting for me there. Jess Smythe. My mate.
As human as they came, she was everything I dreamed and wanted in my life. I just didn't expect to show her my wolf before I convince her we were meant to be.
But there was something in the woods that would go to any lengths to get rid of the women, and of me and my pack. And it would force me to make decisions that would change the course of my mate's life...
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
About the Author
Also By Katherine Rhodes
Prologue
“I told you this would be worth it!” Brandy crowed.
“My ass is killing me,” Delia answered. “How much farther? Why does this road suck so much?’
“Should be just ahead.” Brandy was clearly excited. I just leaned on my fist. The cabin had been ‘just ahead’ for about an hour.
Thankfully, the window I was staring out of had a great view. I had never been to Alaska and the views of Favorite Channel and Berner Bay were stunning as we managed to rumble, slowly and carefully over the rough road alongside Davies Creek. A small sign, after a half an hour of plowing through the underbrush scraping and dinging and ripping the paint on the Land Cruiser and banging around against the car and each other in back seat, that directed us away from the precipice that had been getting closer. I let out a sigh of relief as Brandy took the turn.
Zanna admitted, out loud, she’d been afraid of heading straight for the ice field at the top. I hadn’t told her about the deadly cliff on the left.
Addi questioned the road even more after a very long mile drive. Couldn’t blame her—my ass cheeks simply couldn’t be any more numb.
The view as we rounded what I thought was supposed to be a corner, was well worth it. The bay, channel, and the archipelago that hid Glacier Bay National Park from view were set up neatly in picture-perfect early summer scenes. It was everything I had ever dreamed June in Alaska would look like and the delightful shock that I was actually in Alaska rolled up from my toes.
The rough-and-tumble, well-loved—also known as beat-up—Land Cruiser managed to bust through the last bit of underbrush and into a clearing. Allegedly, the cabin would be there, slightly protected by the trees at the edge.
Brandy threw the SUV into park. Her eyes grew wide, and her face contorted with complete disgust. “No!”
Yanking her seat belt out of the lock, she nearly ripped the door off the hinges as she burst into the cool early summer air—and mud. “No, no!” Her feet stuck in the thick, sucking mud as she headed for what sort of looked like a porch. Yanking branches out of the way, screaming and yelling the whole time, it took only a minute before we could see a front door.
Brandy’s words echoed back to us through the trees. “This place is a mess! No! This can’t be! Harrison swore the place was in good order!” She turned to us, as we all climbed out of the vehicle.
“That lying fucking dick-weasel!”
Chapter One
Zanna pushed the massive, worn-bristle brush broom through the living room, the clouds of dust flying up into the sunlight streaming through the filthy window. “I guess check the chimney for birds and squirrels,” she said. “Maybe a bat.”
“Probably a bear,” I offered, leaning into the flue. “I really don’t want to do this on our vacation.”
Brandy wailed from the table in the kitchen, “I’m so sorry. I really am. My cousin swore he had kept the place up since we were here. I don’t know what he considers ‘kept up.’”
“Water!” Madeline’s gleeful call came from the kitchen. “There is water!”
We tore through the cabin to where Madeline was standing. She was working a hand pump into the kitchen sink and grimaced. “I didn’t say it was an ideal water situation, just that there was water.”
Brandy slumped into the chair there, and it immediately collapse beneath her.
There was a small chuckle from someone as Brandy’s face froze in shock, and before a minute had passed we were all roaring with laughter. Zanna offered a hand to hoist Brandy off the floor.
“All right, look.” I finally caught my breath and leaned on the counter. “We are here for the next three months. We wanted out of the way wilderness with the comforts we’re used to. Brandy, you bought this from Harrison, right?” Brandy nodded. “Then, let’s fix it up. We don’t have to be fancy. Let’s use garage sales and Craig’s List and want ads. Someone has to be selling an old fridge somewhere in the damn capital of this state. So let’s find what we need cheap and make this place awesome.”
Madeline nodded. “I can see that working.”
“For everything but the power. We need someone to come out here and fix the power for us,” Brandy said.
“Who has Angie’s List?” Addi asked.
I held my phone up. “Me. I’ll take care of the power. You all can take care of everything else. Let’s go room by room and decide what we need.”
Every room needed more than just a little help. We were going to have to find used windows for at least five of the rooms. The mattresses were rotten in all four bedrooms. As soon as Zanna sat down on one of them, we also discovered the bed frames weren’t great either. The fridge had a lovely coating of black goo that not even Addi the biologist could figure out, and the cabinets were full of old canned food.
“We can leave a can here for decoration.” Delia laughed. “In the year twenty-nine oh seven, a wandering survivor of the great devastation happens up on cabin—”
“Boo!” There was a chorus of us drowning her out.
“What are we going to do for sleeping
space tonight?” Brandy asked, tossing a look at Zanna.
I shook my head. Unrequited love and total obliviousness between those two. Still, we needed an answer. “I was thinking we’d just camp inside tonight. I found an electrician who can come out tomorrow morning first thing, so at the very least one of us has to stay here.”
“May as well. This is where we want to be.” Brandy opened her purse and started to fish through it.
“What are you doing?” Delia asked.
“Getting… my… credit card for the… electrician…”
Delia raised an eyebrow. “Nope. I’ve got it. You just bought this place, so consider it a house warming gift.”
Zanna and I exchanged looks. I’d been planning on working out the payment once we had the estimate of what it was going to take. We all knew, though, Delia’s family was wealthy. Not show-offishly, but deep, well-lined pockets rich. Nothing tacky and gold laminate about her. Even more—once she said something like that, there was no talking her out of it. We all saw Brandy’s jaw work for a moment. She wanted to fight, but the energy went out of her.
“Fine. Do you want to stay and Jess come to town with us?”
“Nope. I’m so going to town with you crazies. I want a fresh new bed. Not a garage sale special.”
Oh, that meant we were getting four new beds.
* * *
With a hand on her arm, I pulled Delia to the side before they left the next morning.
“Two things. First, do you have a limit for the electrician? Be serious. This cabin may need a complete overhaul.”
A great, big grin appeared on her face. “No limit. Get some solar panels up on this bitch. On-demand hot water tank. A dishwasher. Some decent power everywhere. Washer, dryer… the whole nine yards. We might be in the Tongass, but I want to watch television.”
“Gotcha. Two.” I tossed a glance over her shoulder at the others getting ready to get going. “Did you hear…things… last night?”
“Things?”
“Paws. Scratching. Yips.”
“Ah. Yeah. I did. I figured it was just me being paranoid about being this far in the woods with a shit door on the cabin. Make sure you ask the electrician about a carpenter and doors.”
“So I wasn’t hallucinating those noises?”
“Nope.”
“Not good.”
“Nope.”
I watched our other friends for a moment. “Does anyone know how to fire a gun?”
“A—” Delia’s head snapped around to me. “Wow. Um, Zanna does. Her dad took her shooting a few times. But, do you really think—”
“Look, we’re here for three months, and I’d rather have a gun than not. If she can shoot, maybe a shotgun or a rifle? No one has to know we have it. I’m sure there’s a place to stash it.”
“Precaution?”
I nodded.
“Rifle. Not a handgun.”
“Handguns are too unpredictable. And can a Ruger really take down a bear if we had to?”
“In desperation, yes.”
I raised my eyebrow and stared at her. “Do you want to be so desperate we have to take down a bear with a handgun?”
“Fuck no.” Delia vigorously shook her head. “Rifle. Mid caliber. I’ll see what I can do.” With one last glance at the others, she asked, “Are you going to be okay here while we go into town?”
“Someone has to stay,” I answered. “Better me and a rusty cast iron pan and a wicked swing than one of the others.”
“Good point. You do have that wicked softball swing.”
“Division champs, baby.”
Delia nodded and headed over to the front door where everyone was waiting. I waved and sat down on the only chair that hadn’t yet fallen apart.
It fell apart.
Laughing, they all waved and walked out on me, leaving me there to pick my own ass up off the floor. They couldn’t see me anymore after the door closed, but I threw the middle finger at them anyway.
My sleeping bag was my only other option, so I plunked down on it and pulled out a book to read while I was waiting. I lasted about two minutes before I had to start the fire. Even in June, Alaska was cold.
The electrician was supposed to be there at nine, and I hoped he could find the place. The others would be gone most of the day, and Brandy had booked a trailer for them to haul some of their finds back to the house. She was still miserable that this place was such a pit, but with the plans we had, it was going to be amazing when we were done. And winterized, so we could come up in the cold too.
I had the fire crackling strong and low in about ten minutes, and it was perfect ambiance to read the wonderfully cheesy romance I had loaded onto my e-reader.
I looked at the power on the tablet—I was at forty percent. We were going to need power in the house soon or there were going to be five really grumpy women in residence.
The knock on the door startled me. The dashing hero of the romance had sucked me in with a story of pathos and abandonment, and reality didn’t need to intrude on me at that moment.
Still, I unfolded my legs and made my way to the door, limping as I waited for the circulation to come back. As I got close, there was another, more severe knock.
“Just hold your horses. Sheesh.” With a click and a squeak, I pulled the door open.
A god stood on the other side.
Dark, shaggy hair, a close cropped beard, eyes as bright blue as glacial ice, strong cheekbones, and a most curious little scar under his left eye, I stared so long and so hard he wound up clearing his throat to get my actual attention.
I had the urge to wipe the drool off my chin.
“Hi?” I finally found my voice.
“Hi. I’m Garrett Pauler, from Timberwolf Electrical.”
“Oh. Hi.”
I stared at him. I couldn’t get my senses back.
“You called for an electrician?”
“Oh. Yeah. Yes!” Forcing my brain into a hard reboot, I stepped out of the door and saw his truck in the driveway, with a ladder and an adorable, stylized howling wolf. “Come in, please. We desperately need an electrician. I’m Jessica.”
He smiled at me. It set off a tumult of sensation through my whole body, all of it landing squarely in my panties.
Walking to the room, I watched him—like a hawk watching a rabbit, ready to swoop in—as he glanced around the cabin. “So, I’m going to start right out with, this isn’t going to be a cheap fix.”
“I’m not cheap.”
Holy shit.
I stuttered and tried again while he clearly held back a chuckle. “I mean, I’m not being stingy. The woman paying said to do the whole kit-n-kaboodle.”
“Tall order. I saw the downed wire halfway up here.”
I jerked, fully out of my paralyzing lust. “What?”
“Yeah, there’s no power coming up the hill. It’ll take Alaska Power at least a week to get up here and run the new wire.”
“Fuck.” I gasped. “I mean, darn.”
Garrett flat out laughed this time. “It’s okay. This really is an F-bomb situation.”
“What about solar? Or wind turbines?”
“You could do both, but it’s a four-day job.”
“Faster than the power company?”
“More reliable, and way cheaper in the end.”
I looked at the disgusting fridge that sat in the kitchen. Delia had said solar or something. Why not both? I ran a hand down my face. “I don’t know if my friends are coming back with a fridge today or not, but we have one coming at some point soon. We all have only a few hours left on our e-readers. We need to cook, and there’s one lame cast iron pot and we’re not going to live on stew and soup.”
He adjusted his tool belt and I looked. I couldn’t help it. His motions brought my eyes straight to his crotch. There was no doubt this massive man was sporting quite the package.
Either he didn’t realize or didn’t care that his client was eyeing his bulge. “Tell you what. I’ll wand
er around and make an assessment of what needs to happen in here to keep you all running, and you think about what you want to do.”
“Okay.” The word sounded lame.
He winked and wandered over to the stairs.
Holy tight ass, Batman.
I moved with him and watched him walk up the stairs, tool belt swinging and each cheek of his perfect ass being alternately showcased by the jeans he was wearing, as he climbed. And finally he disappeared.
I dropped against the wall, letting out a breath. He was an absolutely perfect specimen. There was just a little time to get my head on straight and think about what we had to do in the house. The fire crackled, and it needed a new log. Thinking it was a great way to occupy my time, I fetched one from the small wood pile next to the hearth and shook the fire up a bit.
We needed power. This was glamping, and none of us wanted to spend time roughing it inside a cabin. It was supposed to be a getaway, not a get-in-touch-with-our-rugged-femininity. I wanted a hot shower.
Half the year, the sun would be high in the sky. Half the year it would be behind even the low trees on the horizon. There had to be two different kinds of power going on here so we needed both solar and wind.
With that line of thought, I felt more in control of myself. I was good at thinking about things that needed analysis. I wasn’t good at thinking about things with large penises and what I wanted to do with them.
As witnessed by my now-failed, absolutely disastrous engagement.
Garrett’s hip swung the tool belt suggestively as he walked back down the stairs—oh how I wanted to be at the top!—ten minutes later. I tried not watching him as he wandered through the living room, into the den, back to the spare room, out of the half bath, and into the massive kitchen.
Following him into the kitchen, I found him bent over, peeking behind the befouled fridge.
Wow. That ass.
“It’s not nice to stare,” he called.
“What?”
Straightening, he had the most handsome, cocky grin I had ever seen on a male. “It’s not nice to stare. At my ass. That’s what you were doing.”
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