“I’m not sure if what happened here can be pardoned, Gage.” He reached inside and grabbed his unloaded rifle from Carla. As he suspected, she was standing right inside the door. “The first one to shift, dies.” He aimed his rifle at Gage and hoped the poker face he pulled was good enough to win a large pot at a crowded table.
“I understand why you feel the way you do, Frank.” Gage frowned. “I’m sorry. I let the love of riches and promises of the land we wanted get in front of my better judgment.”
“By the looks of you, I imagine you were lacking there anyhow.”
“I came to apologize. I won’t stand here and take your insults.”
Frank took a step forward. Hours of raging fury pumped through his veins as he considered what his and Jock’s packs had endured. “You’ll stand right here until we take a headcount and figure out how many women and men we lost last night. Then, you’ll help us bury our dead. By the end of the day, you’ll know exactly what you’ve done here and maybe I’ll better understand how much I can forgive and whether or not this is something we can put behind us.”
Chapter Fourteen
It was almost dark by the time Jock and Heck returned. Frank had just handed over the first shovel and the werebears were burying their dead.
“What’s going on?” Jock asked.
“Nice of you to show up,” Frank muttered. As soon as they’d crossed over into the Wolfden and Wyoming Wood Pack territory, Frank had been able to pick up on their conversation. Apparently, Jock and Heck had chased some of the smaller bears all the way to Bear Mountain. By the time they returned, they looked like they’d been chased back to WolfDen.
Heck and Jock had bitched every step of the way. Every few miles, they’d phase and run as wolves, transmitting messages back and forth. If they found a topic worthy of debate, they’d shift again and discuss it for a few miles.
“We got here as fast as we could,” Heck said, snarling at the werebears digging the graves.
“Let it go,” Frank said, under his breath.
“You mean to tell me you’re going to forgive and forget something like this?”
“I’ve been keeping them busy until Jock returned.” His gaze met Jock’s. “I have an idea. Would you like to hear about it?”
“Not really,” Jock said, walking inside the cabin.
Frank shook his head and stared at Heck, hurriedly transmitting silent messages. When he finished, Heck said, “It might work.”
Jock reappeared on the porch. “I take it you want to make that happen tonight?”
“Within the next couple of hours,” Frank said, gauging the werebears’ progress.
“I’ll make it happen,” Jock promised, pivoting to the left and phasing at the same time.
“I take it he liked your idea,” Heck said.
“There’s more than one way to kill a man,” Frank said, quoting one of Jock’s favorite sayings.
The werebears turned simultaneously and Frank wondered if they had any idea what he had in mind. “You boys want something to drink?”
“Yes, we’d be mighty obliged,” Gage said.
“Heck…”
Heck shook his head. “No way. They killed some of our pack. I don’t buy into that nonsense of kill ’em with kindness.”
Gage brushed his forehead with his forearm. “Just a drink. That’s not too much to ask.”
“Just a life. Was that too much to ask?” Heck’s nostrils flared. “Apparently several lives were more than you could spare.”
* * * *
“Ah shit!” Grant yelled, slapping his palm to his head. “Not you again. Just ’cause I warned ya about the werebears, don’t ’cha go off and think me and you are now back on good terms. I ain’t wantin’ to come back to the pack.” He waved his arm and shooed him away. “I mean it, Jock. Go boil your shirt or somethin’.”
“Considering I’m not wearing one, that’s probably not going to happen tonight,” Jock said, leaning back in the good marshal’s chair with his hands clasped behind his head. “You been across the street at the saloon tonight?”
“How’s that yer business?”
“Well you see, Grant, I have a problem and you’re going to help me resolve it.”
“I am.”
“Yep. You are.”
“I knew it! I knew it! From the very damned second I gave ya that warning, I said to myself, ‘Grant, ’ole boy. Ya watch and see. Jock’ll be back lookin’ for favors. Now that you’re the only lawman around, he’ll be thinkin’ it’s time to go the big figure’ and sure enough, here ya sit.”
“You owe me.”
“I don’t owe ya a blame thing.”
“Oh yes you do.” Jock rose to an upright position and reached under Grant’s desk. Retrieving the weapon he’d spotted when he’d first leaned back in Grant’s chair, he quickly added, “And Grant, this is one time, I’m not askin’.” He aimed Grant’s pistol at his chest.
“So now yer gonna shoot me with my own blasted gun?”
“I don’t want to shoot you, Grant. I want you to go gather up those bounty hunters in that saloon. Tell them you made a mistake. The men you were after were werebears. They killed men, women, and children out in WolfDen.”
“You’re shittin’ me.”
“No.” Jock deadpanned. “But the blood in our fields is on your hands. As marshal, you’re expected to ride out tonight and make this right. If you don’t, I’ll be back tomorrow. When I ride into town, there won’t be any two ways about it. You’ll know why I’m here and my face will be the last one you ever see.
“And something else you might want to consider, too. Frank had every intention of marrying you off to Daisy and then making her a widow. If you prefer his way to mine, then I’ll go fetch Frank.”
“No need in all that,” Grant hurriedly said. “I’ll get the boys.”
“We’ll be expecting you within the hour.” Before Grant could say another word, Jock shifted into his wolf form and ran back to his home in the prairie.
Chapter Fifteen
“Yep, siree. That’s the last of ’em.” Grant smacked his gloved hands together and stood before Jock, Heck, Frank, and Carla. “I came through for ya.”
“You didn’t come through for us,” Carla said, holding her head high. “There are six shallow graves here today because of what you did, what you set in motion.”
Grant waved his hand and clucked. “Ah shucks, Carla. The only reason those wolves died was because it was their time to go. If the werebears hadn’t got ’em, some kind of plague would’ve.”
“There’s only one plague around here if you ask me,” Carla said, glaring at Grant.
“I second that opinion,” Frank said, walking inside the cabin and slamming the door.
“I don’t reckon me and Frank are doomed to be friends anytime soon.”
“Probably not,” Jock said, eyeing the loaded wagons and burly men seated in the back of them. “How long you think those ropes will hold ’em?”
“Jock’s right. Those guys are pretty stout fellas,” Heck said.
“Don’t worry about the rope. My deputies will hold ’em,” Grant said, snapping his fingers over his head. About that time, a gunman stood up in the back of each wagon. “Those fellas were told to shoot to kill if any of them there bears decide to shift and make a break for it.”
Jock took a deep breath. He studied Carla, focusing on what was running through her pretty little head. Agreeing with her concerns, he said, “Grant, if you even think about double-crossing us this time, I’ll hunt you down and…”
Grant put up his hand. “I know, Jock. I know. You’ll hunt me down and kill me with my own gun.”
Heck snorted at that. “He won’t have to.” He bracketed his arm around Carla’s waist and held her close. “This one here has a real hankerin’ for ya, Grant.”
Grant’s eyes shifted between Jock and Heck. Apparently understanding what he was thinking, Carla said, “That’s right, Grant. Heck and I are mates, too.”<
br />
“Ah no!” Grant removed his hat and slapped it against his thigh. “What is the matter with ya people!” He marched over to the wagons and peered inside the one closest to the cabin. “Let me ask ya something, werebear. Do you and yer boys mate with the same woman? Is that a normal practice out in your neck of the woods?”
From where Jock was standing he couldn’t hear what the werebear was saying, but it was pretty obvious Grant didn’t like the shifter’s reply. He leapt backward and shook his head in pure disgust. “Ew. Yuk. That’s the most…ew. I can’t stand it.” He paced back and forth before he returned to stand in front of Jock.
“Well?”
“It must be in the water out here. None of you people are right in the blasted head.”
“You people?” Carla balked at that. “You used to be one of us, Grant. Don’t forget that. When you lose your roots, you lose yourself.”
“I was never one of ‘you,’” he said, glowering. “You became one of us.”
“Better keep your voice down, Grant,” Jock said. “Remember, you told your bounty hunters to shoot to kill shifters. I’d hate to hear about your men turning on you while you’re riding back to Laramie.”
Grant narrowed his gaze. “Are ya threatenin’ an officer of the law?”
“You may wear the badge, but you’ll never deserve the title of marshal,” Heck said.
“We’ll see about that, Heckles,” Grant said, reaching for Jock’s hand. “I’m glad I could make this right tonight, Jock.”
Jock hesitated before he shook hands with his old friend. As the two men shook, something strange and mysterious happened. The good times he and Grant had shared flashed through his mind’s eye. Grant blinked and Jock jerked.
Grant wiped his hand on his breeches and fiddled with his hat. “I best be gettin’ on with it.”
“Yes,” Jock said, shaking off the sadness the memories brought. “Thank you, Marshal.”
Grant stood a little taller and smiled as wide as he could. “See there. That wasn’t so bad now. Was it?”
Jock walked him to the wagon. “Remember what I told you. Don’t double-cross us this time.”
Grant rubbed his jaw. “Ya know. I ain’t had a good meal since me and you parted ways.” He peered around Jock and studied Carla. “Maybe I could drop by sometime and Carla would welcome me at the dinner table.”
“I wouldn’t count on it.”
Grant shook his head. “It was worth a try.”
“There’s good food at the saloon.”
“True,” Grant said, attempting to ward off a smile. “But the saloon entertainment pales in comparison to what goes on out here.”
“Have you been spying on my woman again?”
“I have not,” Grant said, sounding believable. “But I gotta tell ya. That time I saw her polishing the pearl and playin’ with the kitty has stuck with me like ya wouldn’t believe.”
“I’m sure it has,” Jock said, remembering the first time Grant had told him what Carla kept in her barn loft.
Grant mounted his horse. “Take care, Jock.”
“You too, Marshal.”
Grant doubled over his reins and slapped the leather against the horse’s withers. “Come on boys! Let’s ride!” He took off like a wild outlaw, galloping way ahead of the wagons.
Frank joined them on the covered, slanted porch. Lined up perfectly in front of their remaining pack, Jock, Frank, Carla, and Heck kept their gazes trained on the departing wagons.
“Reckon Grant realizes the wagons aren’t right behind him?” Heck asked.
“He knows,” Jock said, staring after him. “He’s just scared to death one of his ‘men’ overheard him talking about the past. If I know Grant he’ll ride as hard as he can until he reaches Laramie.”
Frank laughed. “That’s a fact.”
When the wagons were just a speck in the distance, Frank said, “One of us should address what’s happened here over the last few days.”
“Let me,” Carla said, stepping in front of them.
The wolves showed their respect by bowing their heads as Carla chose her spot. Standing in front of the newly dug graves, she said, “We lost dear pack members here today and went to war with an enemy we didn’t even realize we had. Let us return to our homes tonight and reflect on the lessons of war.
“There’s never a winner or a loser when a man or a woman is driven to draw their weapons and take a life. There’s never peace at the end of a long fight or a good solution found after harming another.
“Still, this battle here yesterday should’ve taught us something if nothing else. We take one another for granted. We believe our days will be long and our nights will be short and that whoever we sleep beside tonight will wake up next to us tomorrow. This event proves how wrong those assumptions are.
“We will mourn our dead, but we will also live on and always honor them. And the way to honor them is to reach out to the ones living among us and offer them love, peace, and hope. Without those three things, we are robbing our young of a healthy and spirited life, for in us they seek an example and in us they find their only truth.
“Teach your young to love. Teach them to settle differences by talking things out rather than reaching for their deadliest weapon.
“When the werebears showed up here today offering a truce, they explained why they had chosen this fight. They wanted our land. They wanted this territory.” She glanced at her mates and then back at the wolves once more. “This land was not theirs to have.”
She nodded once and ended her short speech. As she returned to her mates, she heard clapping. It gained in momentum as each wolf shifted to their human form and shouted to their Alpha female with cheers of praise.
“And that’s why she likes to speak on our behalf,” Frank said, bracketing his arm around Carla and kissing her forehead.
“She likes the attention,” Jock said.
“I need some,” she said in a low, sultry voice.
“You aren’t tired?” Heck asked.
Frank chuckled and slapped him on the back. “Why do you think Jock and I quickly came to terms with the idea of Carla having a third mate?”
“She’s never satisfied,” Jock explained.
“Oh yes I am,” she teased, her gaze bouncing between them. “I just pretend like I’m not. If I keep you boys worn down, then I can rest assured you won’t ever have a need for another woman.”
“Honey, there’s not another woman out there who can hold a candle to you,” Frank said.
“Speaking of candles,” Carla teased. “Anyone interested in racing me to the barn?”
“After you, love,” Frank said, holding out his arm.
Carla had just started to walk ahead of her mates when she thought of something. She had advised their pack to cherish the ones they love and yet she couldn’t say with certainty that she’d always done the same.
“Something wrong?” Jock asked.
“Yes,” Carla replied. “I need to say something.”
“And you need to do that now, I suppose?” Frank was always impatient when the promise of good loving lingered.
“I’m the luckiest woman in the world, but you’re equally as fortunate. I’m sure it isn’t easy sharing someone you love and I won’t profess to know how that feels, but I will promise you no one will ever love you more than I love you and I’ll never take you for granted.”
“Good,” Frank said, stooping low enough to scoop her up and carry her in his arms. “Because I’m a firm believer that actions speak louder than words.”
“Then maybe I’ll show you.”
Frank took long strides to the barnyard. “There’s no maybe to it, doll. You’re fated to spend the rest of your life loving us.”
“I’m up for the task.”
“After what I’ve seen,” Heck said. “I couldn’t agree more.”
THE END
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
International bestselling author Natalie Acres is a Tennessee author
writing exclusively for Siren Publishing. Prone to pen western ménage romance, Natalie Acres enjoys sports, reading, and living life to the fullest. Watch for her next new release coming soon to Siren Publishing.
For all titles by Natalie Acres, please visit
www.bookstrand.com/natalie-acres
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Bounty [Dominant Wolves, Submissive Mates 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 7
