by Maddy Barone
Every eye in the room was directed at him. With approval? Stone cleared his throat. “It’s not always that easy, but that sounds like a good plan to keep each other happy.” He nodded at the room in general. “He has my blessing.”
“Shush!” said Olivia over Colby’s dissatisfied grunt, glaring at her cousin. She smiled at Kit. “The only thing left is for my parents to meet you and give their approval.”
Remembering the cold, narrow face of her father, he swallowed. “What if they don’t like me?”
A shadow crossed her face. “I want to marry someone they approve of. But they’ll like you!” She faltered. “Once they get to know you,” she tacked on.
Behind him, he heard a woman murmur, “When we were young we would have laughed at the idea of needing our parents’ approval to marry.”
And another woman replied, “The world has changed a bit since then, Connie.”
“What if they don’t give their approval?” he persisted.
The struggle was plain on her face. “I’ll marry you even if they don’t like it,” she whispered.
Even the thought of it hurt her, he could see that. “I’ll get their approval,” he said, his words a solemn vow. “Where are they now?”
“At the ranch. They’re coming for Christmas, so they’ll be here in just a couple of days.”
Praying was unfamiliar to Kit, something that humans did. But he stared at his mate and prayed for all he was worth that her parents would give permission.
* * * *
Tami gave the chili a good stir. She was making a triple batch to feed the ranch hands while she, her husband, and her sons were away for Christmas. Between the chili, the huge ham, and the venison sausage, the four men staying behind wouldn’t go hungry. The back door opened and shut so quietly that the only reason she knew it had opened was the swirl of icy wind that swept through the mudroom into the kitchen.
Tracker paused in the door of the kitchen. “Where did the boys go?”
“Town,” she answered, tapping the spoon on the side of the pot. “To get the train tickets to Kearney and pick up any mail. I hope there’s a letter from Olivia. It’s been a few weeks since we heard from her.”
“They’re heading in. Saw ’em on the ridge,” her husband said, shaking his head to dislodge the snow clinging to his braids.
“Brr!” she said, when some of the melting snow fell on her. “That’s cold, Tracker.”
“Sorry.” He slipped an arm around her waist. “I can warm you up. Which position haven’t we tried in while?”
She melted against him like the snow on his hair. “Hmm, how about…” She reviewed the various lovemaking positions in their repertoire and suggested one.
Never a man to chatter, Tracker kissed her deeply and began maneuvering her away from the stove toward their room.
“But you said the boys are on their way in,” she protested half-heartedly.
“They know better than to bother us when our door is closed.”
His teeth grazed that one spot behind her ear that drove her crazy. “Right,” she breathed. “Oh, Tracker…”
It took them several minutes to get to their room, and just as she was about to kick the door shut, Tracker stiffened against her, head turned as if listening to something she couldn’t hear. “What is it?” she asked.
“Something’s wrong.”
He gently disengaged from her and strode out to the kitchen. She fumbled to button her shirt and hurried after him.
“Mom! Dad!” Parker yelled, as he slammed open the back door and ran in, holding an open letter in his fist. “Mom! Dad! A letter came from uncle Hawk!”
Hawk? It had to be about Olivia. Her daughter had written every week for over a year, but they hadn’t received a letter for a couple of weeks. Was she sick? Hurt? Tami looked automatically at her rifle in its niche beside the door. If anyone had harmed her…
Tracker already had the letter and was reading it with his usual lack of emotion. But she, who had been married to him for over twenty-five years, could see the tiny signs of rage on his face. When he lifted his face, his mouth was set in a long, flat line.
“You got the train tickets?” he asked tersely.
Parker patted his coat where the inner breast pocket was. “Yep.”
Tami snatched the letter from Tracker’s hand. It was a single page of Hawk’s carefully formed hand writing. She read with growing horror and confusion. “What is he saying? Who found Olivia?”
Tracker’s hands were in fists at his sides. “That damn cat. He found her and he’s courting her.”
“What? You mean the one who kidnapped her?” Tami stared at her husband and son. “And Des is allowing it?”
“Hawk says Olivia agreed to it.” Parker scowled. “The question is what are we going to do about it?”
Tracker was back to being coolly relaxed. He didn’t smile, he didn’t frown. He simply said, in a very quiet voice, “We’re gonna kill him.”
Chapter Thirteen
How had Kit gotten her uncles to agree to let them have ten minutes alone? Olivia wasn’t sure they actually were alone, but the family dining room was empty and most everyone was working the lunch shift in the restaurant. They had spent as much time together as possible during the last few days, but never out of sight of her family.
“Sit down, Kit. I know we have only a few minutes before the train comes in. I can’t wait to see my parents!”
Kit sat next to her on the sofa. “Have you eaten yet, Olivia?”
“Yes, I ate before the lunch rush started. Have you had lunch?”
“Not yet,” he said, picking up her hand and caressing it. “The Madisons have invited me to stay with them. I’ll grab a bite with Hudson before I take my stuff from the bunkhouse and carry it over to the Madison compound.”
“I wish you could stay here,” she sighed. “There’s that little efficiency apartment in the basement that’s empty. It would be perfect for you.”
“Oh, no.” He laughed. “If I were so close to you every day, I wouldn’t be able to resist doing something that would make your uncles kick me out. Then your parents would never consent to us marrying.”
Kit had undergone a subtle change since he’d received the family’s approval. He was still very polite to the uncles and aunts, but more self-assured. He was more relaxed and happy, and a little more assertive. She glanced around the empty room, wondering if they could kiss and get away with it. Except for Rob Russell, she’d never been alone with a man. Remembering what she and Rob had done in the stall of his father’s smithy made heat creep up her checks, and flare in other places too. She swallowed and pressed her knees together to prevent any telltale scent from escaping.
It must not have worked. Kit leaned close her and inhaled. Then he groaned. “Olivia, I promised Des and Hawk that I wouldn’t touch you.”
“You’re touching me now,” she pointed out. She liked the feel of his shoulder and thigh pressed to hers and missed it when he moved circumspectly away. “When we’re married …”
He muttered something in a low rough voice she didn’t understand. “If your parents consent.”
“They will! Why wouldn’t they?”
“Your father said he would kill me if I ever came near you again.”
Olivia shifted her weight on the sofa. “That was before he knew you truly loved me and I love you. Besides, you’re not giving up now, are you?”
“No. Absolutely not.”
She smiled. That sounded definite. “The train should arrive in an hour. You stay away until after supper. That will give me time to explain everything to my parents. You can get settled in with the Madisons. Okay?”
He looked unhappy. “Okay.”
She couldn’t help it. She scooted over to him and kissed him. For a moment his lips were soft against hers, and then they did something that sent her heart speeding. She felt it slamming against her ribs. She was practically in his lap, their mouths hot and open with a heat that shook her.
It lasted only a minute before he dragged his mouth away from hers and stood up, panting.
“I promised not to touch you!” he growled, half in delight, half in despair.
“I didn’t promise not to touch you,” she said, smug satisfaction running through her. “Now I really can’t wait to be married.”
The expression on his face indicated painful torture. Even the thick denim of his jeans didn’t hide his erection. “That’s not fair. Your family won’t trust me if we do that anymore.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, chastened. “You’re right.”
When Hawk came to find her a few minutes later, she sat on one end of the sofa, and Kit sat on the other. Her uncle sniffed, gave them a neutral look that turned pointed when he nodded at Kit, and spoke.
“Train will be here soon. We’re leaving in five.”
Kit took the hint. “I better get going then. I’ll see you tonight, Olivia. Sir.”
Olivia always blinked when he called her uncles Sir, but it was respectful, and he was all about showing her uncles that he was polite. She smiled at him. “I’m looking forward to it.”
Kit was barely out the door before Hawk raised a brow at her. “Did he kiss you?”
“No,” she said earnestly. “He said he promised he wouldn’t touch me.” She paused to smile wickedly. “I kissed him.”
His chuckle sounded reluctant. “You kissed him, huh?”
“He made me stop.”
Hawk shook his head. “Must have ice water in his veins to stop his mate when she’s kissing him.”
She remembered the bulge in the front of his pants. “No, just too much fear of what you would do to him.”
“Smart boy. Go get your coat. Don’t want to miss the train.”
The wind sent snow scurrying over the train platform, circling the benches and whistling around the corner of the station. Olivia could have gone inside to get out of the cold, but she was too excited to see her parents. She raised her scarf further over her nose and watched the train pull even with the platform. She ignored the men who hurried to the freight cars to begin unloading, and kept her gaze glued on the passenger car. A conductor jumped down, lowering the steps for the passengers.
The first person to emerge from the train was Parker. Any childhood animosity she’d ever felt for her bossy brother was forgotten in a blaze of happiness. Taylor came next. The boys gave the platform a careful examination, searching for any trouble as was their habit. Satisfied that it was safe, Taylor turned back to the train and waved. Her mom came down the steps, closely followed by her dad, and the sight of them brought tears to her eyes. She launched herself at them.
“Mom! Dad!”
Her mom dropped her suitcase just in time to catch her in a hug. Her father laid a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. She could tell by the warmth in his eyes that he was glad to see her. Then Taylor and Parker closed in, and the twin expressions of angry accusation on their faces made her forget that she was glad to see them.
“Later,” her mom said sharply.
Her dad gave her a long, thorough examination, and though his face didn’t reveal his thoughts, Olivia was sure he was unhappy with her. “Later,” he agreed, and gave her shoulder another gentle squeeze.
At least he wasn’t glaring at her. Not that he ever glared. Hawk and the others from the Plane Women’s House came forward to greet the newcomers. The baggage was collected—there wasn’t too much, as her family believed in travelling light— and headed back to the House. Olivia was careful to walk beside her mother. Her brothers were behind with Sharp Tooth and He Charges, probably getting every detail about Kit out of them. She cast one glower over her shoulder at them before moving closer to her mom and asking about the trip.
When they all came through the back door, stamping snow off their feet, Connie and Des were there, smiling widely. Connie and her mom had always been good friends. They didn’t hug, but they grinned widely at each other.
“We’re putting you and Tracker in our third bedroom,” Connie said above the chatter of welcome, “and your boys can bunk with Hawk’s brood. Sound good?”
Her mom agreed.
“Good,” said Connie briskly. She pointed at her older son. “Rock! Get the bags carried up.” She turned again to Olivia’s mom. “It’s four o’clock now. Renee will have chili and cornbread for family in half an hour. The Eatery opens for supper at five o’clock. Olivia is on the roster for kitchen duty this week.”
Olivia hid a sigh of relief. Her parents would have to put off grilling her until after supper. Connie’s next words rushed her worry right back.
“But since you haven’t seen her for over a year, we’ll make do without her tonight. Give you a little time alone with her. My living room will be empty tonight so you can talk there.”
Olivia would have sworn her dad was too deep in conversation with Red Wing and Des to have heard Connie. She should have known better. He turned from the men to look at her. She swallowed, feeling like a bug pinned to a card.
“Good,” was all he said, but Olivia swallowed again. She was going to have to find the right words to convince her parents that Kit was the right man for her. Her parents were calm, reasonable people. It wouldn’t be too hard to get their blessing. Would it?
*
Supper was oddly tense. Well, maybe it wasn’t so odd, Olivia admitted privately. Renee’s chili and cornbread were warm and tasty, and the dozen or so people crowded around the table were laughing and talking over each other as usual. Everyone wanted to hear how her parents and brothers had been and how the ranch was. Conversation covered Christmas, and the weather, and the health and doings of every member of the Clan and Packs. The one subject no one brought up was Kit, but his ghost was there, like a buffalo that everyone politely pretended wasn’t in the room. As she ate, Olivia tried to think of the best approach to the impending conversation.
Nothing seemed right. Supper was quickly over, and when her brothers moved toward her, her parents waved them off. Olivia led her parents up to Des and Connie’s apartment and sat down in the one armchair. Her parents took the couch. Olivia swallowed and waited for her parents to say something. At least Parker and Taylor hadn’t been allowed to join in this meeting.
For several minutes her parents simply looked at her. Finally, her mom said, “You look good, Olivia. Happy.”
Geez, Mom didn’t have to sound so surprised. “I am happy,” Olivia replied quickly. Her breath stalled for a moment as that sank in. “I really am.”
Her parents exchanged a quick glance. Her father leaned forward, his elbows on his thighs and his eyes fixed on his callused hands dangling between his knees. Slowly, he looked up at her. “Livvy, we’re worried about you. You haven’t written for nearly a month.”
She shifted in the chair, staring at the pencil sketch of Aunt Connie on the wall to avoid her parents’ eyes. “I know. I meant to. I’m really sorry.”
“Let’s not beat around the bush.” Her mom sat ramrod straight, back not touching the couch. “You have been seeing that cat.”
She said ‘that cat’ like it was a swear word. Olivia had to swallow twice before managing to speak. “Kit. Yeah.”
Dead silence. Her parents didn’t even glance at each other. They probably didn’t need to. After all those years of being married, they could probably read each other’s minds. Olivia looked between them, trying to decide which would be more open to what she wanted to say. She’d thought her mom would be, but maybe not.
“Olivia,” her mom said quietly. Olivia wasn’t fooled by the quiet. Her mom was angry. “You’ve written every week since you came to Kearney. In those letters you’ve told us about a dozen different men who wanted to court you. But you didn’t say one word about this one. Why?”
Olivia floundered. “Well, because … Because…”
“Because,” her mother finished in that same quiet voice, “you knew how your father and I would feel about it.”
Olivia stopped squirming. “That was
part of it,” she admitted.
She looked from her mother’s face to her father’s. It wasn’t always easy to know what he was thinking, but it seemed that his cool eyes held hurt. “When Kit first came to Kearney, I was surprised. I didn’t know what to think.” Her mind went back to those minutes in the Martins’ store. Shock had numbed her for a moment, but a spike of something had jabbed a hole through the shock straight to her heart. Excitement? Happiness? Curiosity? It might have been a mixture of all three, or something else, but it hadn’t been fear. “At first I didn’t write because I wasn’t sure what to say. I was going to wait until I knew what my feelings were. I didn’t want to alarm you.”
Her dad looked at her. “Do you know what your feelings are now?”
“Yes.” Olivia sat straight, making herself look each of her parents directly in the eye. “I love him.”
Olivia wondered how silence could sound shocked. The look of angry horror on her mom’s face hurt. Not a muscle in her dad’s face moved, but Olivia remembered that night on the mountainside when her dad had told Kit he would kill him if he ever came near his daughter again.
“And he loves me, too,” she hurried to add.
“Those are just words,” sputtered her mom. “They don’t necessarily mean anything.”
Olivia clenched her hands on her knees. “Yes, they do! I told him back when he took me that I couldn’t be with someone who wasn’t civilized, so he lived with regular people for a year to learn how to be civilized.”
“Livvy,” her dad said, “you’re our baby girl. We want you to be safe and happy.”
Taking a deep breath, Olivia forced her hands to relax. This was the attitude that Victoria had been dealing with her whole life. Except, she amended, that Uncle Shadow tended to roar and howl and Aunt Glory shouted, but her parents kept their voices calm and low.
