by Jane Jamison
Men of Passion, Colorado 3
The Wolf Within
Marc, Adam, and Hank Shelton left their pack and moved to Passion to work on a dude ranch. They don't want trouble, but when a boyfriend roughs up his woman, they can't look away.
Verbally abused by ex-lovers and even her mother, timid Tatum Griffin never expects to put her life in danger to protect anyone else. Somehow, she finds an inner strength she never knew existed.
Hearing the girl's screams, Tatum rushes to help but gets trapped by the bully. Hope is fading until werewolves come to her rescue, terrifying the man and astounding her.
Tatum's in for another surprise when her father reveals a family secret. But the secrets don't stop there. The Shelton men, the men she's fallen for, confess they, too, have a secret. Will Tatum forgive her father and her lovers for keeping secrets? Or will the secrets be too much for her to bear?
Genre: Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Vampires/Werewolves, Western/Cowboys
Length: 49,488 words
THE WOLF WITHIN
Men of Passion, Colorado 3
Jane Jamison
MENAGE EVERLASTING
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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THE WOLF WITHIN
Copyright © 2012 by Jane Jamison
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62241-645-5
First E-book Publication: November 2012
Cover design by Harris Channing
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THE WOLF WITHIN
Men of Passion, Colorado 3
JANE JAMISON
Copyright © 2012
Chapter One
Marc Shelton eyed his brothers, Adam and Hank, and saw the same expression on both their faces. Just like him, they’d plastered on a pleasant smile, but the glint in their eyes showed what they were thinking as clearly as if they’d spoken out loud.
Why the hell are we doing this?
Marc gave them an almost imperceptible shrug as if to say, “I haven’t got a clue,” then turned back to the horse and tugged on the cinch, making sure the saddle was secure. The forty-something-year-old woman shifted her body, brushing her generous breasts against his arms. He ignored the come-on and offered her a hand up. She batted her heavily mascaraed eyelashes, took his hand, and made a feeble attempt to get into the saddle. As he’d guessed she would, she pretended to fall backward. Marc had no choice but to catch her.
How many women, especially older women, had used that trick to fall into his arms? He forced a smile then pushed her onto the horse.
Hank smothered a chuckle then handed the reins of a bay horse to the woman’s fifty-year-old husband. Marc tipped his hat at the man’s wife and strode off as fast as he could without breaking into a run.
Damn, how he hated that part of his job. He and his brothers had signed on as ranch hands with the Cool Waters Dude Ranch thinking it would be an easy way to make some cash before they lit out for Mexico. Once they had enough traveling money they’d set out for Guadalajara and join a werewolf pack that was on the fringes of a massive shifter expansion into Mexico.
He and his brothers would take alpha roles in the new pack. They’d already spent too much time as omegas in their last pack, and it was time to take charge. Until they raised the cash, however, he was stuck helping city people get a taste of the not-so-wild West.
“I guess I’m with you.”
The voice was barely a whisper. Still, he steeled himself for anything—he’d met a lot of weird people since starting the job a few weeks earlier—then pivoted on his bootheel and came face-to-face with a diminutive young woman. She had to be less than five feet three inches tall judging by the fact that she only came up to his shoulder. Her big, dark eyes met his then darted away as though she was worried that he’d seen her looking at him. Long black hair streamed down her back, and she was thin, almost to the point of emaciation. Her worn T-shirt hung on her bony frame and her jeans looked like they could’ve wrapped around her waist twice. If she hadn’t had a belt on, they would’ve puddled at her ankles.
He checked his guest roster. “You would be Stacy Willum. Is that right?”
She nodded, again darting her eyes to his then away.
She’s a skittish one. Like a dog who’s gotten kicked too often.
“Nice to meet you, Stacy.” When she didn’t take his hand, he dropped it to his side. If she was any more timid, a good stiff breeze would scare her. But that wasn’t his concern. He needed to find out if she was willing to get on Whiskey, the horse he’d assigned to her. If she made it that far, he needed to know that she had enough strength in her skinny arms to handle the horse. Thankfully, he’d chosen the most docile of all their mounts.
He bent lower to peer at her face, forcing her to look at him. “Have you ridden before?”
She nodded but said nothing.
“Okay. Why don’t you go ahead and saddle up? I’ve checked everythin
g, so you’re ready to get going.”
She nodded again then took the saddle horn, put her foot into the stirrup, and pulled her body into the saddle. He doubted that old Whiskey even knew she was on his back. He patted Whiskey on the neck and handed her the reins.
“Are you here by yourself?” She was either a horse fanatic who was willing to overcome her shyness in order to ride or she had to have someone with her. Someone who had probably dragged her into coming.
“I’m with her.”
Marc heard another horse come up behind him, pinning him between the two mounts. Damn fool. If he knew anything about horses, he’d know not to get a man trapped between two of them. Marc kept his cool, pushed back his cowboy hat, and smiled up at the scowling face.
“And what’s your name?” He waited for the brute of a man to give him his name so he could check it off the list.
“My name’s Doug Harmon, and she’s my girlfriend. Got it? Who’s asking anyway?”
Marc gritted his teeth. Even if the man didn’t have the attitude of a badger stuck in a hole with a porcupine, he wouldn’t have liked him. But how he felt about the ranch’s guests wasn’t the point. His job was to take them on a ride, let them eat lunch around a campfire, then deliver their butts back to the ranch in one piece. From there, if he was lucky, they’d all return to their private cabins and leave him the hell alone.
“I’m just one of the hands, sir. Are you and your lovely girlfriend ready to ride?” He’d gone out on a limb referring to her as lovely, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that she needed the compliment. He guessed she’d fall over in a dead faint if he’d called her beautiful. Shithead Harmon probably never said anything nice to her.
Still, he was surprised when Doug snorted. “Lovely? Did you hear that, Stacy? He thinks you’re lovely.”
Marc held back the snarl that came from deep inside him. His inner wolf growled, urging him to sink his fangs in the stupid man’s neck. Instead, he glared at Doug and walked over to his quarter horse, Quickster. He swung into the saddle, made a clicking sound, and brought Quickster beside Adam’s horse.
Adam took one look at his face and knew he was near the edge. “Keep it together, man. Just think about Mexico and all those pretty señoritas.”
“I’ll be happy when we find the one señorita we’re searching for. I’m beginning to think she doesn’t exist.” Hank drew back the reins of his mount, Silver, as he came beside his brothers.
They’d waited a long time. Even as teens they’d talked about having one woman they would share. It wasn’t an unusual relationship for werewolves, but it was difficult to find a human woman who was willing not only to share three men but three brothers. Even if she accepted them as werewolves, it wasn’t any guarantee that she’d want to change and become a werewolf, too.
Their mother had taken their fathers into her bed and into her heart, but she’d warned her sons that it might not happen for them. She’d told them they would know their mate when they finally met her and, if they were lucky, the woman they’d chosen would recognize them as the loves of her life.
“We can’t give up. Not yet.” Adam was the optimist of the family while Marc was known as the hothead. Hank fell somewhere in the middle, sometimes sure that they’d find her then, at other times, ready to give up.
“Let’s just get this ride over with.” Marc gave Quickster an easy nudge and urged him forward. He turned around in the saddle to address the group of wannabe cowboys and cowgirls. “Everyone fall in line. Adam’s in the middle and Hank’s bringing up the rear. Stay together and don’t go wandering off the path. We don’t want to send out any search parties today.”
He gave Quickster free rein, knowing the horse would start down the familiar trail at an easy pace. As normally happened, the crowd was quiet with the occasional word about how beautiful the sunlight was shining on the hills. People oohed and ahhed over the sounds of the birds and the smell of the forest. Yet noon wasn’t Marc’s favorite time of the day. Between the heat and having to deal with people who didn’t know the difference between a horse’s hoof and its rear, he couldn’t wait for the day to get done. Next to the moment when he’d get the tourists back to their cabins and he could do as he wished, sundown was his favorite part of the day. Night would soon follow, and he’d be off the clock.
He let his mind wander while his horse led the way to the clearing where other ranch hands were already setting up a quick camp. What would their future mate look like? Would they ever be able to agree on one woman? Hank liked redheads, Adam liked blondes, and he preferred brunettes. They could agree on wanting a woman who was trim and fit, but while Adam and Hank liked their women to be short, he preferred to meet women on an eye-to-eye level. Her appearance, however, wasn’t the most important factor. If she was the right one for them, if they all shared the instinctive connection that came between werewolves and their mate, then they’d find her attractive no matter what she weighed or what color her hair was. He just hoped that she was an independent, strong woman with a quick mind and wit. Like the saying went, “Pretty fades, but stupid stays.”
“Marc?”
Marc gave the reins a light tug, but his horse had already come to a stop. A large middle-aged man who’d flown in from Las Vegas with his trophy girlfriend puffed as he rocked back and forth, urging his horse, Bits, to move toward Marc. Marc gave Bits a remorseful look and vowed to give the horse an extra treat tonight to make up for bearing the man’s tremendous weight.
“Yes, sir. What seems to be the problem?”
Mr. Linat, an accountant for a large manufacturing firm, gathered his breath as though he were the one carrying the heavy load. “How long until we make it to the camp?”
Marc glanced around him. Hell, they hadn’t even gotten a mile from the main house and the man was already complaining like a kid in the backseat of his mom’s minivan. “It’ll be about another hour. Just sit back in the saddle and enjoy the ride.”
Mr. Linat scowled then plastered on a smile before turning toward his girlfriend. His scowl returned as he pivoted to face Marc again. “I don’t suppose I could make it worth your while to make camp here. Lindsay’s the one who wanted to do this cowboy shit. Not me.”
Marc kept a pleasant expression on his face and nodded as the other riders passed them. “Sorry, but making a campsite on a trail isn’t a good idea. It’s better if we keep going and make it to the regular site.” He anticipated another complaint and headed it off at the pass with the proverbial carrot on a stick. “Besides, the cook and his assistants are already there and fixing a hell of a meal. They’ll have potatoes, steaks, and just about anything else you could want.”
“How about a stiff drink?” Mr. Linat’s eyes widened in his puffy face.
“They’ll have cold beer, but nothing stronger than that.”
“Well, at least that’s something.”
Marc nodded, agreeing with the man. He could go for a shot of whiskey, but he wouldn’t indulge until later. “If there’s nothing else, I need to get back to the front. And your beautiful girlfriend looks like she’s missing you. You must be a major stud to get a girl like that.”
He tried not to draw attention to the fact that Lindsay had apparently forgotten all about Linat so she could chat up Doug Harmon, the obnoxious but handsome boyfriend of the meek and mild Stacy Willum. He just hoped Harmon could keep it in his pants until they got back to the main ranch house and the guests’ cabins.
Mr. Linat’s face brightened and he straightened up, basking in Marc’s compliment. “True. She knows a good catch when she sees one.” But his expression dropped when he noticed Doug leaning closer to Lindsay. “You’re right. I’d better not leave her alone.”
Marc covered his snort with a cough. “Then I’ll let you get back to her.” Reining his horse around, he trotted to the front of the line. Adam shot him a grin as he went by, but he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he let out a heavy sigh and quickened the pace. The sooner he got them to the lunch cam
psite so they could rest and eat, the faster he’d get them back to the barn and out of his hair.
* * * *
The rest of the trip to the campsite went without a hitch and they arrived at the site right on schedule. Hamburgers, steaks, and hot dogs were grilling on the large barbecue the cook had set up while his assistants laid out cold dishes, appetizers, and desserts on a long table away from the smoke. Although it was daytime and warm, they’d started a fire. Guests always wanted one no matter how hot it was. Comfortable folding chairs lined the inside of a huge tent while other guests opted to sit on the long logs positioned on two sides of the campfire.
He shook his head. It never failed to amaze him what people would do to look like a cowboy. Anyone with any sense would get in the shade and away from the fire. But he guessed after they’d paid to live the fantasy, they were bound and determined to get their money’s worth. He dismounted and showed the clients the pen where they would turn their mounts over to seasoned ranch hands.
Having seen to the horses with the help of other employees who would make sure the horses were rested and taken care of before taking up their loads and heading back, Marc edged behind one of the cook’s assistants, scooped up three bottles of beer out of a cooler, then strode away from the campsite. His job didn’t include jawing with the guests during lunch.
Adam and Hank waited on a rock outcropping several feet away. He gave his brothers a bottle, the one alcoholic drink they could enjoy while on duty as long as they didn’t drink more than two. He grunted as he sat down on the rock next to them.
