Falling for a Wolf Box Set

by Mac Flynn

  Even before I shut off the engine the creaky old screen door flew open and my mom hurried out. She was a woman of fifty-five with dark brown hair and a smile that brightened her pretty face. My mom moved with the agility of an angel, and the strength of a muscle man. She cleaned the floors and managed a half acre of garden behind the house.

  Adam stepped out and was mobbed by her love. She wrapped her arms around him in a hug that would have broken a normal man. "Oh my, aren't you the handsomest young man I've ever seen!" she squealed.

  "Mom!" I scolded her. My cheeks were redder than the barn as I marched around the car and pulled on one of her arms. "He's not here to have his back rearranged!"

  "Oh, pish-posh. I'm sure such a strong young man is just fine," she replied, but she did release him from her bone-crushing hug. She took a step back and admired him from afar. "My, my. . ." she muttered.

  Adam held out his arms to show off his physique. "Do I pass?" he teased.

  "With flying colors." She sighed and shook her head. "Oh, if only I was twenty years younger."

  "Twenty years ago you were still married to Dad," I reminded her.

  "Twenty-six then, but I am very glad to meet you, Mr.-"

  Adam held out his hand. "Adam Smith," he introduced himself.

  She gave his hand a hearty shake. "A pleasure, Adam. My name is Anna Monet, but you can call me Annie. Everyone else does."

  "Annie!" came a yell from the barn.

  Mom cupped a hand around her mouth. "What is it, Ralph?" she called back. Adam cringed. He was in the line of fire with my mom's loud call.

  "Those kids here-" One of the barn doors opened and my dad peeked his head out. He was a balding man at the front of his head, of medium height, and the clearest hazel eyes I'd ever seen. When he was up to mischief they sparkled like glistening nuts, and represented his insanity perfectly. His eyes fell on the three of us and my car, and a sheepish grin slid onto his lips. He stood straight, stepped out in a large red hunter's jacket and pants, and closed the door behind himself. "I see you two made it," he commented as he walked over to us.

  "And with not a moment to spare. I was just about to pull dinner out of the oven," Mom spoke up. She herded us into a small pack and pushed us inside.

  I was glad for the change in location because the house was as warm and comfortable as I remembered. There were the framed photos on the walls of my growing up, the little knickknacks from our visits to beaches and through the woods, and some old maps. The dining room off to the left was no less cluttered with oddities, some of which rivaled even Adam's collection. The trinkets were placed inside a giant china hutch made of sturdy oak wood, and through the glass you could see all our most treasured items. There were old parts to first-generation tractors, rust-covered tools that were several centuries old, and then there was the crowning achievement on the top shelf. A large collection of small skulls, cleaned and staring straight at the table. There were squirrels, rabbits, mice, and other assortments of woodland creatures.

  Adam couldn't help noticing we had an audience on the top shelf. He nodded at the fine bone collection. "You have a fine collection of skulls, Mr. Monet."

  My dad snorted as he took his seat at the head of the small, rectangular dining table. "They're not mine, they're Anna's."

  "It's a guilty pleasure," my mom spoke up before she whisked herself away to the kitchen that lay beyond a doorway to the rear of the house.

  "How-um, very unusual," Adam commented.

  Dad shook his head. "Weird, if you ask me, but if I don't humor her I don't get to keep my fine tools." The fine tools he referred to were the rusted bits of metal on the shelf below the skulls.

  "Those rusted things might hurt someone," my mom argued as she flew into the room. Her hands and arms were laden with trays, bowls and a giant soup tureen.

  "You have wonderful agility, Mrs. Monet," Adam complimented.

  She smiled at him. "Annie, and thank you. It's from my time working as a waitress at the drive-in when I was a teenager. You had to be nimble and quick, or Jack, he was the owner, would pinch your bum to get you moving." She sighed as she set the food down on the table. "Oh, how it would make us squeal, but he always gave us a good tip at the end of summer just for working for him."

  "I don't see any new skulls," I spoke up.

  With all the food in place my mom took her seat at the end of the table. She frowned at my comment. "That's because your father keeps distracting me from going. He's afraid I'll get eaten or something."

  "I'm not going to have you end up like that livestock over at Old Greg's place," he argued.

  "The life-cycle isn't going to wait for those silly gossips to stop their yammering," Mom countered.

  "What yammering?" I asked them.

  Mom sighed and shrugged. "Just some stuff about a wolf. I'm sure it's all a mistake, and somebody saw a coyote."

  "But Old Greg's seen it, and he says it isn't a coyote. It was too big," my dad argued.

  "Where's it been seen?" I wondered.

  My dad waved his hand in the direction of the hills. "Just up there in the trees. Mostly around old Eb's place. He's been prattling on about seeing the thing, talking to anybody who'll listen and a lot of people who won't."

  Mom frowned at him. "I'm sure he means well, Ralph. He's just-well-"

  "A loon," my dad finished for her. "Nobody in their right mind would live in a cabin in the middle of nowhere all alone."

  I snorted, and my mom glared at my dad. "Ralph!"

  He shrugged. "What? It's a lot of trouble living out there. I should know. I had to do an expose in college on one of the local loons and I nearly ended up getting my head cut off by his ax."

  "That poor old woodsman was short-sighted and mistook you for a bear. There's nothing wrong with that," Mom argued.

  "I was still using my head," he countered.

  "Well, whatever the reason, I'm sure there's nothing more dangerous in those woods than a sprained ankle. The gophers were something terrible last summer," my mom commented.

  My eyes flickered to Adam. He absorbed everything they said. I hoped he didn't take too much of their local gossip in or he'd end up as bad as some of the old ladies in town.

  My dad turned his attention to Adam. "So, young man, I haven't heard your name, yet."

  "Adam Smith, sir," Adam replied.

  "Ralph, if you will. I'm old enough as it is with my daughter bringing home a young man for me to torture and harangue," Dad quipped.

  "Dad!" I hissed as my cheeks resembled ripened cherries.

  My dad shrugged, but there was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "What? A father's got to have his hobbies, and you haven't let me indulge in this one since high school."

  Adam raised an eyebrow, and I recognized the same evil twinkle in his eyes as in my dad's. "Since high school? Has there been others before me?"

  Dad set his elbow on the table and leaned over towards us. His grin broadened to devilish proportions. "She hasn't told you about Stinky Peterson?"

  "Mom!" I cried to my other parent for help.

  "Ralph, dear, wouldn't you like to save some stories for another night? I'm sure these two are tired and hungry, and the soup's getting cold," Mom spoke up. She lifted the tureen lid for emphasis and a steam arose from the thick, yellowish broth. The scent of turkey wafted across the table and my dad inhaled deeply.

  "Perhaps you're right, Annie." He turned to us as my mom laded the soup into the bowls. "So how long are you two staying for? Annie mentioned a week."

  "About that long," Adam agreed.

  "And you'll be staying in the extra bedroom, Mr. Smith?" he persisted.

  "Dad!" I scolded him.

  "He can stay in whichever bedroom he wants," Mom spoke up.

  "Not ours. I'm still using that bed," my dad quipped.

  I groaned and slumped down in my chair. This was going to be a long week.

  Chapter 4

  The rest of the meal was uneventful, or as uneventful as any mea
l was with my parents. They were a pair to be admired, envied, and concerned about. Perhaps it was the fresh air, the great scenery, or the isolation, but they were odd ducks. Collecting oddities other people would consider junk, bantering like-well, like an old married couple, and torturing me, their only child, into fits of embarrassment.

  I was glad when the meal was finished and we all stood from the table. The hour was six, and outside night reigned over the land.

  "Did you want any help with the dishes, Annie?" Dad asked my mom.

  "I could do with an extra pair of hands," she agreed.

  My dad grabbed my shoulders and pushed me toward the doorway to the kitchen. "Get to it, Chrissy, while Adam and I discuss a few important matters."

  "You let him be and come help me," Mom insisted. She piled dishes into my dad's arms, grabbed him by the wrist, and dragged him into the kitchen.

  I did the same to Adam, minus the piling of the dishes. "Come on, before my dad gets free," I whispered.

  I led him to the entrance hall and up the stairs to the second floor. There were three small rooms and a bathroom up there, with two doors on either side of the long hall. I dragged him to the two at the end of the hall on opposite walls, and into the left-hand room. It was a simple bedroom with a queen-size bed covered in homemade quilts spun by my mom. A dresser stood to the left of the bed, and a window on the right and in front of us just to the left of the bed. It was small, but cozy.

  "This is the spare bedroom where you'll be staying," I told him.

  "I would much rather see yours," he commented.

  I rolled my eyes, but jerked my head in the direction behind us. "I'm across the hall, and my parents are next door to me. The bathroom's against your wall."

  Adam stepped forward to the end of the bed and let his eyes sweep around the room. They rested on the quilt, and his hand touched the material. "I don't believe I've seen a better work."

  I walked over and plopped myself on the end of the bed. "Yeah, my mom's really fond of making quilts. She even takes pictures and uses them as designs. Just be glad she gave you this one and not the one with the picture of her skull collection. She sometimes brings it out to show it off to people," I told him.

  Adam chuckled and seated himself by my side. "Your parents are very interesting."

  "And nuts," I added.

  He looked at me with kindness and lustful affection in his eyes. "I can see the resemblance."

  I blushed under his heated gaze. "And they have really great hearing, so any plans for fun will have to wait."

  Adam sighed and stood. "Then I suppose we should carry in our bags and settle ourselves into our rooms."

  We'd packed light so it was a single trip to the car and back inside the house. My parents met us by the stairs with our bags still slung over our shoulders and our feet facing towards the stairs.

  My dad clapped his pruny hands together, evidence of his having washed, and looked between Adam and me. Behind him came my mom. "So what do you two want to do after you finish unpacking? There's the TV, polishing Annie's skull collection, or we could play some strip poker," he suggested.

  "Dad!" I growled.

  "Actually, I wanted Chris to show me the woods," Adam spoke up.

  Mom's eyes widened and she gestured to the windows. "But this late, and in the snow? You could get lost," she fretted

  "I'm sure Chris hasn't forgotten the paths. Not with as much as she's described to me," Adam countered.

  "I did?" I wondered. One warning look from Adam told me I'd misspoke. "Oh, right, yeah, all the old paths. We'll just follow them and be back in no time."

  My dad, too, looked worried as he rubbed his clean-shaven chin. "I don't know. There's still that wolf running around."

  "Coyote," my mom argued.

  "Well, whatever it is it's running around and eating livestock, and I don't think something big enough to attack cattle is going to be coward enough to not attack a pair of reckless humans," he pointed out.

  "I'm sure we'll be fine. We'll only be gone for an hour, at most," Adam assured them.

  My dad dropped his hand and sighed. "All right, but if only one of you can make it back it better be Chris."

  "Dad!" I yelled.

  "What? If this is the man you want to marry then he'd better be willing to be wolf-"

  "-coyote," my mom interrupted.

  "-better be willing to be animal chow to save you," he finished.

  Adam smiled and bowed his head. "I promise I will gladly sacrifice myself to save Chris, if the need arises."

  I pushed against Adam's back and shoved him towards the stairs. "Yeah, if the need arises, but we're only going for a nature hike and we'll be back in no time. You just have your cocoa ready for us, Mom, and if we're lost we'll find our way home with that smell."

  My mom smiled. "I'll be sure to have the mugs and marshmallows ready for you."

  "Sounds great. Anyway, let's get this stuff unpacked first." I practically dragged Adam up the stairs and down to the far end of the hall where I spun him around to face me. "Are you trying to get us killed going out in the middle of the night?" I hissed.

  "Do you not know the paths still?" he wondered.

  "Yeah, but not when they're under a few inches of snow," I shot back.

  "Then we will rely on my nose to follow any scents we might find," he suggested.

  I sighed and opened my door. "All right, but if we do run into a vicious, man-eating wolf, coyote, or rabbit, I expect you to take one for the team."

  He chuckled. "I will gladly accept any of those challenges."

  I stepped into my room and turned to Adam. "Good, now let's unpack and get this crazy walk over with so we can get back. My mom puts in a triple helping of cocoa powder in her cocoa and the marshmallows are homemade."

  In a few minutes we were unpacked and downstairs. My parents met us at the door with our coats and a bag of winter clothing supplies. "I thought you might need some more clothes. It's below freezing outside," Mom commented. She pulled out four pairs of gloves from the bag, all varying in sizes and colors. "If these won't work I have another bag."

  I pulled out a pair of gloves from my coat pocket. "Already prepared, Mom."

  "But no scarf? You'll catch your death of cold without one," she scolded. Like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat, she stuffed the gloves back into the bag and pulled out the same number of scarves.

  "Come on, Mom, I'll be fine," I insisted.

  She ignored me and wrapped one tightly around my neck. "See? Don't you feel warmer?"

  "Mom!" I choked out as I unwrapped the last, air-cutting loop.

  Mom stepped back and smiled at me. "Now you two keep your word and be back in an hour, or the cocoa will get cold."

  "We will," I promised.

  Dad turned to Adam, and his eyes held a serious look in them and his lips were pursed together. "And you remember what I said about keeping care of her."

  Adam bowed his head. "I'll be sure to sacrifice myself."

  "Good, then you two get off and come back soon. Oh, and don't wreck the paths I made around the barn or I'll make you shovel them yourselves tomorrow," he warned us.

  "We will," I replied as I pushed Adam out the door and into the clear night air.

  The night was still and crisp with frost. The only light came from the house and a bright flood light over the barn doors. My parents followed us onto the covered porch. "Oh, and you'll need these," my dad added. He tossed us a pair of thick, heavy, powerful flashlights.

  "Be careful!" my mom called to us as we stepped onto the snow-covered driveway.

  "We will, and don't worry!" I called back as we strode past the barn and away from the bright cheerful, warm house.

  Chapter 5

  If only I could have stopped myself from worrying. "So if we do meet another werewolf what are you going to do to them?" I asked Adam as we trudged our way to the far side of the barn. My dad had shoveled completely around it in some mad attempt to prove his manliness
.

  "I will attempt to speak with them," Adam told me.

  "And if that doesn't work?"

  "Then violence will be the only solution."

  "So give him the Ashton treatment?"

  "Precisely."

  I cringed. "I just hope it isn't one of my neighbors. Mom would never forgive me for letting my boyfriend kill one of her gardening buddies," I muttered.

  "Do you know of any known wolf's bane locations, or anyone who would grow them?" he wondered.

  I snorted. "Do you really think I have that much experience with that stuff after I almost poisoned both of us with it in your cabin?"

  "Point taken."

  We reached the opposite side of the broad barn. In front of us was the snow-covered hay field, and beyond that lay the start of the forests that surrounded the little valley. The snow lay about four inches deep and there was no path but those tracks made by winter birds, rabbits, and the occasional coyote.

  Adam stood beside me on the narrow, shoveled path. I grinned up at him and gestured to the wide expanse of field. "Ladies first," I invited him.

  He smiled in his turn and forded into the fluffy white stuff. The snow was more powder than ice and it was almost enjoyable but for the cold night air and the inability to see in the dark. I clicked on my flashlight as we trudged away from the friendly lights of home. Adam flipped his on, but pointed it backwards for my benefit.

  "How good is your eyesight in the dark again?" I asked him.

  "Quite good," he replied.

  "So why turn on the flashlight?"

  "Your parents may be watching, and they would expect two lights," he pointed out.

  "Oh, right." I glanced over my shoulder at the retreating farmhouse. A few figures stood in the front living room window. I tripped on a rock in the field and stumbled forward, but didn't fall. "Cocoa, just think cocoa," I muttered to myself.

  "This will be over quickly if we don't-" Adam froze and his whole body stiffened.

  I stumbled into his back and sighed as I leaned into his coat. "Let me guess, you spoke too soon?"

  "I fear so. There is certainly a scent of something ahead, though we haven't come upon the trail," he informed me.