The Coyote's Bride

by Holley Trent

Lance hadn’t been paying attention, but it was apparent that his motives had started shifting as well. The very idea of Lily finding someone else to have those two-point-five daughters with made him want to round up all the likely suspects and direct them expeditiously the nearest trapdoor to hell.

  So what’s that mean?

  He knew what that meant. He just didn’t know what to do with it.

  He pulled over, undid his seatbelt, and got out.

  “Lance?” Lily called after him. “What are you doing? Why’d you stop?”

  He held up a hand bidding her to wait, hopped down into a conveniently dry riverbed, and tossed his cookies where no one could see.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  They’d barely entered Maria’s town limits when Lily’s phone began to shudder with a barrage of queued text and voice messages. That backlog always happened when she traveled through the cellular dead zone between the two distant towers.

  As she scrolled through, she noted that Lance had parked in front of the Coyote gathering house downtown.

  He got out without saying a word.

  She watched him in her side view mirror as he walked to Regina’s car, said a few words to the lady, and then escorted her and the two tired boys to the front door. He made one brief glance at Lily as he pulled the storm door closed—too quick for her to gesture or call out to him, not that she knew what she’d say, anyway. She had yet to make sense of him. Every time she thought she’d made some progress, he threw her for yet another frustrating loop.

  He’d been quiet for most of the trip. Agitated, for some reason. She was smart enough to guess that it was probably due to something she’d said. She wasn’t going to toe the line anymore where the two of them were concerned, though. If she had to be the grownup in the situation, so be it. Belle had to do that with her big brothers all the time. Perhaps that was meant to be the Baxter women’s lot in life.

  One of her messages was from the guy at the county government office, apparently following up about that job her father had told her about.

  She deleted it.

  There was a message from Belle, telling her to call.

  Lily deleted and tried to tell herself the pit in her stomach was due to hunger.

  One from Aunt Glenda saying the same.

  One from Mason. Same request.

  “Oh, hell. What happened?” Lily scrambled out of the truck and held the phone up high, trying to conjure a couple more signal bars. She’d gotten as far as the corner beside the deli when a scolding, harried voice called out, “Liliana.”

  Shit.

  If she turned the other way and walked quickly, she could not only outpace her father and his bum knee, but she could pretend she didn’t hear him.

  “Yeah, good plan, girl. Let’s do that.” She started hustling. She’d wanted to visit the dance studio, anyway, and tell the owner she could teach a few afternoon classes starting in January. Belle would be proud to hear that Lily was still capable of rubbing elbows with people who weren’t completely weird.

  “Please don’t make me teach hip-hop, though,” she prayed. “There isn’t enough rhythm in those kids’ bones…”

  “Liliana!”

  “Ugh.”

  She sighed. Stopped. Had a smile on her face by the time she finished turning. “Hi, Daddy.”

  He finished huffing over to her, favoring his right knee while a bead of sweat glistened on his brow. “You weren’t at the ranch. I was there.”

  She wasn’t sure if he was accusing her or querying her so she smiled even broader. She was surprised that he’d even gone out there. Although he maintained appearances of being cordial with his sister and her children, the truth was that his visits with the Foye clan were never long. He tended to cut and run before any of the kids got close enough to have a conversation.

  “Hadn’t been out there in, what, five years?” he asked, indignant. “Doesn’t even look like the same place anymore.”

  “No, I would imagine it doesn’t. Belle and Aunt Glenda have been trying to make things more efficient and modern. Lots of progress on that front. What’d you go all the way out there for?”

  “You didn’t apply for that job like I told you to. I wanted to see what I could do to help.”

  “I see.”

  He dragged his handkerchief across his brow and sniffed. Allergies again, probably. Didn’t matter what season. They continuously plagued him, and he hated getting his shots.

  She sighed. “Daddy, there were weeks left on that job opening. I didn’t really need the reminder.”

  “No, no, no.” He waved a scolding finger at her. “You know better than that. Those dates are just there for formality. If you want the job, they’re going to hire you. Simple as that. You want the job, don’t you?”

  No. No, she didn’t.

  She wasn’t going to say anything, but her answer was probably written on her face. Her smile had fallen off.

  He gave his head a shake of confusion, sending untidy blond and gray layers of curly hair flopping. “Did they tell you not to take it?”

  “They who?”

  “Mason and the rest.”

  The response made so little sense that at first, it didn’t settle logically in her brain. She didn’t know what her cousins had to do with anything. “Why would you ask that? They don’t know anything about the position. We may live in the same place, but for the most part, we stay out of each other’s business. We’ve all been adults for a while, in case you haven’t noticed?” She added a smile at the end to show that she really wasn’t trying to be disrespectful. At some point, he was going to understand that she was capable of charting the course of her life, and the consequences were all on her—not him.

  “They’re all married now,” he said sourly, brow creasing.

  “You knew that, didn’t you?” They were his nephews and niece, and he saw them—at least in passing—during his rare visits to the Double B. Besides, everyone in town knew when the Foyes were off the market. The news flew because no one had ever thought anyone could tame “Floyd’s wild kids.”

  Technically, no one could. They’d simply found partners who were tolerant enough of their wilder instincts. As far as Lily was concerned, that was all anyone could hope for—to find someone who didn’t mind the wild things.

  That was what Lance was—an unburnished wild thing who hadn’t been able to look her in the eyes for three hours, and all because Lola had made him uncomfortable. Lily was glad that he was, in a way. His scent clinging to her must have meant something. She simply didn’t know what yet.

  “You’re a great-uncle three times over, too,” Lily said with a sigh. “Have you actually met any of the kids? Your visits there tend to be pretty in-and-out.”

  His slow blink behind his transition lenses indicated that no, he hadn’t.

  “That’s a shame,” she murmured. “They’re really sweet kids.”

  “Yes, well.” Daddy shifted his weight and pushed his glasses up his nose. “Glenda seems to think so.”

  “You spoke to her, then? Really spoke to her? Not just the polite stuff that any strangers would say to each other?”

  He shrugged. “Well, briefly. She was busy. Always busy, that one. She could have done better. I told her that.”

  “Done better, meaning what?”

  He groaned and put his head back. “Oh, let’s not quibble about that again.”

  “You always say that, and the reason I always ask is because you’re never clear on what you mean by better. Are you talking about Uncle Floyd? The ranch?”

  “All of it.”

  “Oh,” she whispered, disappointed. Perhaps he’d never surprise her.

  He reached over and patted her hand. “Don’t take it so badly. I need you to understand where I’m coming from. Glenda does. You know that, right?”

  “Whether she does or doesn’t makes no difference to me. I’m never going to understand where you’re coming from.”

  “Just put in a little effort.”
>
  “Don’t accuse me of not putting in an effort. I get up early daily and put in every iota of effort I can possibly muster up. I pitch in because I want to do my part plus a little more because that may make some other person’s day easier. I treat everyone with the respect they deserve, and even try to humble myself to the people who really don’t deserve my time, because that’s what you taught me, right? You told me those were the rules.”

  “Yes, but—” He held up the finger he was prone to wagging and had his mouth open with a probable scold fixed on his lips. Before he could say anything else, Lily noticed the hulking form in her periphery. Blond hair. Furry jaw. Gray sweatpants.

  Lance.

  Oh boy.

  “Do you know that person?” Daddy asked.

  Lily let out a soft huff. She didn’t think “I know him in the biblical way” was an answer he’d appreciate. She gave the looming Coyote a sidelong look.

  “Yes or no, Liliana?”

  “She’s married to this person,” Lance said, stepping closer.

  Lily’s mouth fell open in shock, but she quickly recovered. Perhaps her father couldn’t surprise her, but Lance could.

  With his hands in his pockets, he loped forward, shoulders relaxed, shoelaces of his running shoes dragging the sidewalk, bottoms of his fangs peeking out ominously between his flattened lips.

  Oh. Shit.

  Her father’s worst nightmare—a shapeshifter without a desk job.

  “Liliana, is this…man lying?” Daddy cleared his throat, crossed his arms over his chest, and tapped his foot with impatience.

  Lance slung his arm around Lily’s shoulders and nuzzled her hair with his nose. He had to know how deep of a hole he was digging for her. She sure did. But unlike her, he had a Coyote’s advanced-level sense of opportunism. He didn’t need a plan in advance. He just tweaked things until he got the results he wanted. Apparently, what he wanted was to pull her father’s head out of his ass.

  It wasn’t how Lily would have done it, but his instincts were right that it needed to be done.

  “He’s not lying,” Lily said. “I…well, this is Lance. Lance Aitkenson. We did get—well, we are married. That’s true.”

  “You eloped with a…with a shifter?” Daddy’s voice had taken on that strained quality it normally only got when his clients told him their tax documents were not only going to be late but “Like, really, really late, yo.”

  Lily’s nerves outed themselves in a strained giggle. “Uh. Just like Aunt Glenda, I guess.”

  The shade of red her father’s neck was turning looked like the precursor to some kind of festering rash. The last time she’d seen it turn that color had been when she’d been seventeen and had let her boyfriend drive Daddy’s Mazda. He’d totaled it.

  When she’d thought there was going to be a baby, she’d spent hours pondering how she would deliver the news of his imminent grandfatherhood to her father. In none of those imagined scenarios did she merely, in a figurative sense, just rip off the Band-Aid. He was a neurotic who needed finessing.

  Lance, on the other hand, didn’t bother with finesse.

  “Don’t feel bad,” Lance told him. “It was all so sudden. We just couldn’t wait.”

  “You couldn’t wait to do things properly? To perhaps ask for permission to marry her?”

  “Would you have given it?”

  “I most certainly would not have. Do you even have a job?”

  “Several,” Lance said.

  Fearing what was sure to be an embarrassing chest-thumping spectacle, Lily clapped a hand over her eyes. Here we go.

  “Jobs that pay?” Daddy retorted. “Or are you one of those hooligans who makes money shaking down humans?”

  “As far as shaking people down goes, I have no idea what you’re talking about. And yes, my work pays. I didn’t put myself through commercial flight school to shuttle people around for free.”

  “Never seen a pilot who looks like you.”

  “That’s good, probably. I don’t hold myself up as a gold star example of the profession.”

  “Perhaps you should try to.”

  “Nah. Money’s the same either way.” Lance gave Lily a half turn by the shoulders and murmured into her ear while twining his fingers into her hair. “I’ll play nice. Make up some excuse and run along.”

  “What?”

  “Go. You don’t want to have this argument with him right now? Save it for when you’re ready. Save it for when you know what you want to say.”

  She feared that she’d never know what to say, but she nodded, anyway, and gave his wrinkled shirt a playful tug. “You’ll be nice? Really?”

  “As nice as I’m capable of.”

  That sounded like a take-it-or-leave-it offer to Lily, but she took it anyway. Though a bit conniving, it was sweet of him. She didn’t know what it meant about her that she thought that.

  She spun on her heels, put a smile on her face for her father, and told him, “I’ll call you in a couple of hours, okay? I need to pick up my prescription before the pharmacy counter closes.”

  “What prescription?” Daddy asked in another fit of pique. His neck was even redder. “Are you sick?”

  “Nope,” she called over her shoulder. “Healthy as a horse. Just trying to stay that way.”

  The wrinkles in his forehead creased into a deep V as she rounded the corner.

  Her heart raced, stomach soured, and tongue turned to cotton, but at least she had a little time to think.

  Unfortunately, she wasn’t exactly sure how to digest the scenario. It was too big. There were too many angles to attack it from.

  Procrastinating seemed the way to go.

  She was going to have to thank Lance for giving her time to do it…right after she asked him if he knew that with Maria’s grapevine being the way it was, the whole town was going to be aware of their matrimonial status within twenty-four hours.

  That seemed like something they needed to finally have a talk about.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Lance found Lily half an hour later coming out of the pharmacy clutching a paper bag.

  “I thought you were bullshitting him,” he told her.

  “Well, I was,” she said, shrugging. “But then I remembered I had some vitamins to pick up. Figured I’d get them while I was in town.” She shifted her weight and tilted her head toward his truck. “Think you could drive me to my car? I don’t want to do the walk of shame past my father’s office.”

  “I could see why you wouldn’t.”

  She cringed and averted her gaze demurely. “Um. There wasn’t any screaming after I left, was there?”

  “No.” Lance grunted and shoved a hand into his messy hair. “Guy like him doesn’t need to scream. He can make a guy feel like he’s three inches tall just by adjusting his glasses a certain way.”

  Lily nodded slowly. “Yeah. Sounds about right. When I was in high school, all the kids called him Mother Gothel because I was basically on lockdown. Weird that he’s so uptight. Once upon a time, he was a black sheep in the family.”

  “I don’t buy that.”

  “It’s true. Of course, Aunt Glenda sits atop the ultimate grand pedestal when it comes to Baxter aberrations, but they’ve all pretty much written her off, anyway. My father had a special place on the bad Catholic’s list for a while for…” She put a hand over her heart, gasped, then whispered, “Fathering a child out of wedlock.”

  Lance snorted and got her moving toward his truck. He needed to get home and get that damned trailer unhitched. His truck was using up gas like it was oxygen. “I take it he didn’t like his status on the family shit list.”

  “Nope. That’s why he’s been toeing the line for the most part ever since. He gets some bullshit from my grandparents and from his other siblings about not reining me in better, and I can always tell when he’s been talking to them.” She shrugged. “It is what it is.”

  “I guess the ‘I’m a grown woman and you can’t tell me what to do’ sp
eech never has any effect on him?”

  “Never. Maybe one day in the next decade, he’ll take a good long look at me and notice the crow’s feet forming and the gray hair in my eyebrows and realize I’m not a teenager anymore.”

  “Pretty sure that’s what did it for my parents.” He opened the passenger door for her and gave her a boost into the truck cab.

  “What? Gray hair in your eyebrows?”

  “My gray hair is actually white, shortcake, but no. Crow’s feet. My mom went out and bought me a pair of Aviators the very next day.”

  Lily giggled. “I can’t imagine your mother trying to tell you what to do.”

  “She doesn’t. She tells my father and he does the nagging.”

  “Your father is in Sparks.”

  “So?”

  Lily grimaced. “I see your point. My father will utilize any and all technology if it’ll assist him in parenting me from afar.”

  “May as well get used to it, huh?” He shut the door right as a familiar gingham bowtie-wearing figure cut across the street in front of a slow-moving tractor. “’Sup, Ken.”

  Kenny bumped his fist against Lance’s proffered one and then slid his glasses off. He rubbed his eyes before replacing the specs. He looked like he’d been burning the midnight oil. “Blue wants to do a debriefing in a bit. Where are you headed?”

  “Taking Lily home.”

  “Yeah?” One of Kenny’s eyebrows launched upward. “Pretty sure I just saw her father in the coffee shop. He had one of those sour milk looks on his face.”

  “I’m the one who put it on him.”

  “How so?”

  Lance made a get-on-with-it gesture. “What time’s the meeting?”

  Kenny gave Lance the long, unblinking stare treatment.

  Lance let out a breath and shifted his weight.

  Some lady had crossed the street and approached the truck. Lily seemed to know her. They struck up a conversation.

  Lance appreciated her momentary distraction. He didn’t think Kenny was going to go away any time soon, and his questions probably weren’t going to be fit for her ears.

  “What are you doing?” Kenny asked low.

  “I just told you. I’m taking Lily home.”