by Terry Spear
“She’ll be okay, if you’ve come to check on Elizabeth Wildwood.”
As if the doc didn’t know that’s why Tom was here. “What’s the verdict?”
“Mild wrist sprain, some bruising, and minor back strain. She doesn’t really need any special treatment for it, but she might want to sleep for a while. She’ll be as good as new before you know it.”
“The concussion?”
“The scan showed no problems. She seems to be fine. If you see any setbacks…” Doc paused. “You’ll watch her, right? I would keep her overnight at the hospital for observation unless you or one of your family members will be with her for the night.”
“Um, yeah.” Tom hadn’t planned to stay with her for the night. But if Doc thought she needed Tom to watch over her, he would. “She said someone pushed her on the slope. Did you see any evidence of bruising, particularly on her back or shoulder?”
Doc Weber rubbed his forehead like he always did when he was tired, then took a sip of his tea. “She has a couple of bruises, but considering all the clothes she wore and that the man most likely wore gloves, I doubt any fingerprint bruise marks would have occurred.”
Footsteps sounded and Elizabeth joined Tom and the doc in the lounge. She had a wrap on her left wrist, her parka under her right arm, and a sack in her hand. She gave Tom an annoyed look. He could tell it was put on—or at least he thought it was.
“I’ll live. Told you so. Dr. Weber was very thorough. You all made way too big of a deal of it.”
“Better safe than sorry,” Tom said, fighting a smile. She was a feisty little thing and ready to bite, and he was amused at her taking him to task. He pulled her snow boots out of the bag and helped her into them after she sat down on one of the chairs.
Doc Weber took another sip of his tea. “I gave her an ice pack she can use.”
Tom eyed the wrap around her wrist. “Thanks, Doc. I’ll be in touch if she begins to feel bad.”
He helped her to stand, then draped her parka over her shoulders. Relieving her of her bag, he rested his hand at the small of her back and guided her down the hall and out through the waiting area. He hurried her past the reception desk before Maggie could say another word that might embarrass his charge. Like mentioning that damned video. He wanted to see it as soon as possible, but he didn’t want Elizabeth to learn of it. And he wasn’t paying to watch it!
Maggie was on the phone, thank God, or he was certain she would have said something to them on their way out.
Elizabeth said, “Did you check my camera?”
“Yeah, I’m sorry. It’s not working. I’ll have Jake look at it.”
“Great,” she said unhappily.
As they exited the building into the biting cold, she looked so miserable, her chin pointed down as she stared at the snow-shoveled walkway to the truck, that he felt badly for her. He hoped a good meal would make her feel a little better.
“Do you think you can handle lunch?” he asked.
“My stomach is growling, if that’s any indication that I have an appetite and can eat just fine.”
“How do you feel about eating out? Or would you prefer that we get some food at your room?”
“I’ll be fine. Really, Tom. I can dine out. No special treatment. Thanks, though.”
“All right. I’ll take you to Silver Town Tavern for lunch. When we’re done, we can return to your room, and I can apply the ice pack on your back. That will help keep the swelling and bruising to a minimum.”
She looked at him with one of those almost smiles that said he’d pushed it in trying to get close and personal. But they’d already been close and personal, and if she hadn’t been injured, he’d want to sample more of her kisses. Without an audience and especially without Cantrell around to use his phone video recorder!
He raised his brows. “It’s the least I can do after not being there for you when you were hurt.”
“I’m sure I can manage.”
“Doc’s orders. One of us has to stay with you until we’re certain your condition doesn’t deteriorate.” Tom knew she shouldn’t stay by herself in the event she had incurred some head trauma. She couldn’t even turn her head without wincing and groaning.
When she didn’t say anything, he glanced at her. She smiled at him.
“What?”
“That is the best pickup line I’ve ever heard. You are so bossy. Did you know that?”
He chuckled. “I’m free all afternoon. We can eat, then we’ll drop by your place, and you can try to sleep while I apply the ice pack to your back.”
“All right. I’m sure if I oppose any part of your plan, you’ll disagree.”
“What part of the plan would you object to?”
She rolled her eyes and then tried flexing her fingers, wincing a bit at the sore muscles in her wrist.
“It’ll get better,” he continued. “By tomorrow, some of the edge will be off, courtesy of our wolf…” He paused, wondering if she was the same as them because she had mixed coyote blood. He had no idea if coyote shifters healed faster.
“Yes, I heal quickly also.” Her words were clipped.
He’d hit a nerve, and that made him want to know so much more about her. What was her history with the coyote and wolf packs? Why was she so touchy about her coyote roots?
Maybe he should have been a psychologist like Lelandi. Darien would have a fit if Tom even considered such a thing.
One psychologist in the family was more than enough to drive Darien nuts.
Chapter 7
Elizabeth glanced around at the quaint old town with its covered wooden walkways that led from one building to the next. The town would look like a scene from an old Western movie if it weren’t for the carved grizzlies and wolves guarding the businesses at strategic locations. The grizzlies stood six feet tall with their teeth bared and their long claws stretched out, while the wolves looked on with watchful eyes, their mouths clamped shut and their expressions leery.
A couple of chairs rocked in the breeze as if ghostly figures enjoyed the view of the abandoned, two-story timber hotel across the street. Snow-covered mountains provided a majestic backdrop. Large dusty, dark tavern windows peered onto the street, and Elizabeth envisioned wary patrons watching her approach. A newcomer. Everyone would wonder why she was in Tom’s company. Unless the word had already spread through the entire town.
She looked at the hotel’s dusty windows, pausing for a moment to consider a spot that someone seemed to have wiped a bit clean to peer out.
“A new family purchased the hotel,” Tom said, noticing Elizabeth’s focus. “They plan to renovate it.”
“Wolves?”
“Yeah.”
“In a similar style, based on the town as it is?” She loved seeing old places renovated but that still featured the original architecture of the period. It gave the town character.
“You bet. And they’re keeping the same name.”
“That’s nice.” As spooky as it looked, she wondered about the hotel’s history. “Is it haunted?”
“A little.”
“Oh. What if ghost busters want to come to town to learn about the hauntings and discover something more paranormal? Like… wolf shifters running the place?”
He shook his head and guided her along the wooden walkway. “We’ll keep mum about the ghostly happenings.”
“But visitors might not.”
“Only wolf pack members will serve on the staff. If guests say they saw ghosts, it’s their word against the owners and staff who work there.”
“Wow,” Elizabeth said. “I like the way your wolf town works.”
He smiled at her comment. “We only hire wolf shifters for key jobs. The humans are none the wiser, and it keeps them from running our town.”
As they walked along the boardwalk, the boards creaked like they
suffered from arthritis, announcing their arrival loud and clear. Tom opened the tavern door for Elizabeth. Her eyes adjusted to the lower lights inside. Amber glass lights dangled from brass rods hung from a ten-foot-high ceiling and cast a golden light over dark oak tables and an antique bar. Antique mirrors covering the wall behind the bar made the place appear even larger. Dark wood ceiling fans were suspended but stationary. The tavern was comfortably cool already.
The wooden floor smelled of floor wax, but the aroma of the beef cooking in a kitchen made her stomach rumble. If the food tasted anything like it smelled, she was glad Tom had brought her here.
Five men sat at a table, eating sandwiches and talking, until they saw her and Tom walk into the tavern. They all smiled at her, then raised their brows at Tom.
“Boys,” he said in greeting, though most of the “boys” were middle-aged.
“Miss, Tom,” they all responded.
She smiled a little and said, “Hi.” She sounded horribly shy when she wasn’t like that at all.
Their smiles broadened. They had to be dying to learn who she was, especially since she was with Tom. She could smell that gray wolves frequented the place, but only a hint of human scents wafted in the air.
“Restricted membership?” she asked Tom.
“Yeah, wolves only, but to humans it looks like a private club. One day a year during our Victorian Day festival, we open it up to nonshifters. We hold the festival in the fall.”
“That sounds like fun.” Her attention swung to a bearded man who watched them as he dried a green glass behind the old bar, the polished wood worn in places where thirsty patrons had rested their arms for eons. She estimated he was about six-four in height. Huge.
He smiled at her, then Tom, as he set the green glass he’d dried on the counter. His shoulder-length black hair and thick beard made him look like a rugged naturalist.
“That’s Sam, owns the tavern and has been here forever.” Tom guided Elizabeth to a table in the far corner where they could see the rest of the room, but their backs were protected. He pulled a chair out for her and, once she was seated, scooted it under the table for her. She’d never been treated with such civility. She rather liked the attention, she had to admit.
A woman entered the tavern dressed in tight-fitting jeans with sparkles on the back pockets and a peach turtleneck shirt. High-heeled brown leather boots reached midthigh, and she had the most beautiful curly sable hair piled on top of her head.
“Hey, Silva,” one of the five men seated at the table said. “Kind of working banker’s hours like old Mason here, aren’t you?”
She gave him a bright smile. “I would have arrived sooner if I’d known you would be here today.” She glanced in Tom and Elizabeth’s direction. After looking Elizabeth over, she offered a little smile.
Small towns, Elizabeth thought. She hadn’t expected all the notice and was glad to be with Tom, who would deflect some of the attention, she hoped.
“Silva,” Tom said in greeting as he took his seat next to Elizabeth.
“Tom,” Silva said as she put her purse behind the bar. Sam had glanced in Silva’s direction when she first entered the tavern, but when she went behind the bar, he ignored her completely.
Elizabeth tried to figure out the pack dynamics. If Silva worked for Sam, why was she late, and why didn’t he say something to her? He was definitely interested in her, yet he scowled at her and didn’t greet her. Then again, she didn’t give him the time of day, either.
Sheriff Peter walked into the tavern, frowning deeply. Without looking at anyone, he went straight to the most out-of-the-way table by one of the windows and took a seat.
All the other men watched him. So did Sam and Silva. Even Tom had turned to look at him, and not in a casual way. She recognized Tom’s concern for a pack member, and she admired him for that.
Silva hurried to take a bottle of water to the sheriff. “What’s wrong, Peter?”
“Nothing.” He barely acknowledged her and drank the water.
He’d been so friendly on the slope. What had changed?
Silva walked over to Tom’s table and said to Elizabeth, “You’re new in town. Staying long?”
Elizabeth leaned back in the chair and looked up at Silva. “This is what I’d call a small town.”
Silva pulled a phone out of her pocket, turned it on, smiled at it, then shut it off and tucked it back in her pocket. “Sure is, sugar. Everybody’s business is everybody’s business.”
Elizabeth couldn’t help but smile at Silva’s comment. She liked it when people were honest with her. Still, she didn’t answer Silva’s question about how long she’d be staying.
In her condition, Elizabeth figured skiing was out for now, and she really didn’t see any reason to stay any longer except to see North and meet with Hrothgar. As soon as she could do so, she’d make plans for a return trip home earlier than originally scheduled.
***
Tom had cast the evil eye at Silva when she brought out her phone. If she had the video of him kissing Elizabeth and thought to show it to her, he was… well, he wasn’t sure what he would do. But he didn’t want Elizabeth to know Cantrell was selling that moment—or couple of moments—he’d shared with Elizabeth to every member of the blasted pack!
He was glad when Silva slipped her phone back in her pocket.
Tom wondered what was up with Peter. Why hadn’t he joined the other men? He never sat alone, and all of them loved to visit with him. The sheriff was usually as good-natured as they came, levelheaded and a friend in a crisis. Tom didn’t remember ever seeing Peter looking so troubled.
“Do you mind if I have a word with Peter, Elizabeth?” Tom asked.
“Not at all. Go ahead.”
Tom didn’t want to leave Elizabeth alone, but Silva had kind of a sixth sense about things like that, and she stuck by the she-wolf’s side so she wouldn’t feel abandoned. When a pack member had a problem, it was up to the pack to help the wolf out.
“Thanks.” Tom turned to Silva. “Just get the lady whatever she’d like. I’ll have the usual.”
“I sure will, Tom. I’ve never seen him so down in the dumps, have you?” Silva whispered.
Tom shook his head, rose from his chair, and crossed the floor to where Peter sat. “What’s up, Peter?”
“My brother’s coming to town.”
Tom had never met Peter’s brother. Peter had joined their pack years ago, after his brother had left him for places unknown. Tom had no idea what the man was like.
Not waiting for an invite, since he knew from the way Peter stared out the window that he wouldn’t give one, Tom took a seat across from him. “You always figured your brother was in some kind of trouble. And that’s why he would never visit. You thought he wouldn’t offer for you to come see him because he was into something illegal.”
“Yeah,” Peter said glumly.
“So you’re the law. If he comes here and breaks any of our rules, you stick him in jail. What with us running the place, it shouldn’t be any trouble.” Because the jail was shifter run, it was probably the only one in the States where a shifter could be incarcerated without that causing problems. One cell block was strictly for shifters with minor infractions and isolated the wolves from everyone else.
“He’s bringing a mate,” Peter said.
Tom frowned, hoping Peter’s brother hadn’t gotten mixed up with a human and would bring a whole bunch of grief to the pack. “Is she a wolf?”
“I have no idea. He’s a loner. He’s stayed away all these years, and it makes me think he’s up to something less than legal. I just don’t want him to stir up trouble for the pack. I know my duty, but…”
“He’s still your brother.” Tom patted Peter on the shoulder. “I’ll let Darien know, and we’ll all provide backup to help out if he causes problems.”
“We l
oved to hunt and fish as kids before he took off and I joined your pack.” Peter sounded a little more hopeful, finally making eye contact with Tom.
“So maybe you can do that again.”
“I don’t know what he wants.”
“Don’t second-guess it. Just make the most of his visit. You never know. He might be ready to settle down and want to join our pack, if he doesn’t cause trouble.”
Peter looked back at Elizabeth. “What about her?” Now he sounded really interested.
“Kind of a mystery.” But Tom’s mystery. Not any other bachelor male’s in the pack. “Got to get back to her. Are you all right now?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Tom glanced at the other men. They dipped their heads a little in silent acknowledgment that they could step in now and help out. Two rose from the table and walked over to join Peter.
The banker said, “Do you mind if we join you?”
“I’d like that. Thanks, Mason.”
Reassured Peter would be okay, Tom returned to his own table.
“Okay, so you want the usual and… Elizabeth?” Silva said. She brought out a pad and pen. She didn’t need to use them, but it was part of her presentation.
“Roast beef sandwich sound good?” Tom asked Elizabeth, surprised she hadn’t already placed an order. Then again, she’d been watching him, studying him. He hoped she liked what she saw.
“Sure,” Elizabeth said.
“And to drink?” he asked.
Elizabeth gave a little snort. “Make it milk.”
Silva glanced at her wrist. “Break?”
“Sprain. But I figure that milk helps to keep the bones strong if I fall down mountains in the future.”
Silva smiled at her. “I’m Silva, by the way. I’m the proud owner of the Victorian Tea Shop.”
Sam scowled as he watched them, then turned to dry more glasses.
