by T. S. Joyce
Luke swatted at his neck for probably the eleventh time. “Dammit, Gable. Control him or ride in front.”
Gable’s eyes had lightened considerably to the color of frost. He shook his head a lot but it didn’t seem to help and eventually Luke and then Jeremiah peeled to the back of the group. The women beside me shot questioning glances but all I could do was shrug. I didn’t know anything about the dynamics of werewolves. Bloody hell, I hadn’t even known they existed until last night. That was something the men would have to work out on their own.
The land was beautiful and mysterious. The trees here had to be a hundred years old and sprouts of green grass poked through the winter dried soil. Gable’s expression held such hope and anticipation that my heart panged when we pulled into a clearing and his gaze landed sadly on a charred pile of rubble toward the back. He didn’t pull to a stop until we stood right in front of the ruins.
His voice sounded gravelly and deeper. “What happened to it?”
It was Jeremiah’s voice filled with apparitions that spoke up. “It was the Hell Hunters. They hung us from that tree over there and burned the house with Kristina in it.”
Gable looked down and to the side and his breathing was ragged. He slid a look to Kristina. “How’d you get out?”
I hadn’t seen her face without a smile plastered across it until now.
“Some friends let me out the back and then I came for the boys.”
Luke’s tone shook with emotion. “She didn’t even know she was hurt. We watched her burning alive through that front window and we couldn’t do anything. And then suddenly she was there waving her little derringer like she’d kill them all. I hung but she shot the rope knowing they’d open fire on her. Sheriff was off in the woods lightin’ ’em up and our other friend, Elias, stood right behind her firing on anything besides us that moved. We couldn’t save the house, brother. We could barely save ourselves.”
Gable’s icy eyes rimmed with barely checked emotion. “I should’ve been here.”
Jeremiah nodded slowly. “Wouldn’t have hurt.”
Gable pulled his horse beside Kristina’s and squeezed her knee as if he was sending a silent thank you before he rode for the barn. Moments later he disappeared into the woods, shedding his shirt as he went.
Lorelei wiped silent tears with the back of her hand. “I wasn’t even here for it, but it’s still so hard to hear what you all went through.”
Jeremiah’s eyes were tortured as he watched his wife mourn what could have been.
“Come on, Jer,” Luke said. “Gable won’t be back for a while and that front field still needs to be tilled.”
“What’s wrong with Gable’s wolf?” Kristina asked.
I scanned the woods where my man had disappeared. “It’s not his wolf that’s the problem. It’s his human.”
“Jeremiah used to try and eat me. Do we need to worry?”
I jerked my face to her and grimaced. “Why did he try to eat you?”
“Because his wolf was broken. Do we need to take precautions against Gable’s wolf?”
The great white wolf from the ship sat on the tree line. One second he wasn’t anywhere to be seen, and then he was here, watching me with eyes so light they didn’t have color. The horses pranced and snorted under us but he didn’t move closer.
“Well, that answers my question,” Kristina said low. “Jeremiah would’ve attacked long before now. He changed so fast! I thought Luke changed fast since I came along but damn, your man’s quick as a shot.”
Distractedly, I said, “He has trouble staying human. Maybe the change back is harder.”
“Come on,” Lorelei said. “Let’s put the horses up before he gets any smart ideas about making one into a meal.”
Away we rode, on three splashy looking ponies. The women considerately showed me how to unsaddle and brush Barney out. I was terrified until I figured out my dappled white steed didn’t much like moving if she didn’t have to. It was like brushing a fence post and I’d just never really been able to conjure a fear of stationary wooden objects.
Hoisting my wares from the saddle bag, I nearly screamed when we shut the barn door and turned around to see Gable the wolf sitting patiently behind us. His tail wagged a little and in an instant it hit me how badly I’d missed him. Well, this part of him. I sank into the dirt and he licked my face before he let me wrap my arms around his neck. My ferocious, terrifying wolf followed closely to my side as Lorelei, Kristina, and I walked the clearing to the big house.
“Why is one house so much bigger than the other?” I asked.
Kristina talked around a dry piece of grass that flopped out of her mouth. “Jeremiah wants tons of little babies running around. Luke’s content to be an uncle.”
“You and Luke never want to have babies? But how can you even control that?”
Her blue eyes were animated and open as she said, “I was a whore by trade, Lucianna. I’m trained in the fine arts of keeping babies away.”
I don’t know what they saw on my face but both women burst out laughing.
“So, you’re joking about being a whore?” I asked.
“Well, technically I ain’t a whore no more. Luke’s turned me straight monogamous. I’m all proper-like now.”
“Yes,” Lorelei said. “Proper-like. Her manners are still atrocious. Fortunately for her, Luke needs that in a woman.”
Hm. I could actually see that. Lorelei and Kristina’s relationship intrigued and confused me. It was obvious Lorelei was well-bred, well-mannered, and educated to the teeth. Kristina, on the other hand, was crass and bold and unerringly optimistic. Yet, they seemed to get along well and had a sense of humor about the other’s differences. It made me like them more. If two women from completely different worlds could find common ground, maybe they could find room for an English highborn lady with a murderous former fiancé and a gimp leg.
Gable followed us right through the front door and lay down beside my seat at the dining table. The kitchen and living area were open and inviting. A large stone fireplace claimed most of one wall and two comfortable looking chairs sat in front of it. A book lay open on a simple end table like someone was in the middle of reading it at nights. A deep sink sat clean and waiting for a dish, while the wood burning stove shadowed the corner.
Lorelei reached up to a shelf and pulled a cookbook down. She flopped it on the table in front of Kristina and sat beside her. Slowly Kristina read the titles of dishes, stopping only a time or two to ask a sound. I’d taken literacy for granted as I moaned and balked against my tutors. Shame heated my face. Not everyone was afforded such luxuries. “Are you teaching her to read?”
Lorelei nodded. “She makes an excellent student.”
Kristina snorted. “She has to say that. She teaches me to read in exchange for tips in the bedroom.”
I clacked my teeth closed. “Like what kind of tips?”
Kristina leaned back in the creaking wooden chair with a glint to her eye. “What’ll you trade me?”
I undid the drawstrings of my sack and dumped the contents. “Mrs. Dawson sent this with me from Boston. She said I’d know what to do with them when I got here. I was thinking we should split them three ways. Equal. You get first pick.”
The women pursed their lips in an eerily similar fashion and stared at the loot as if it were bricks of Spanish gold.
“Deal,” Kristina breathed.
We spent an inappropriate amount of time sifting through each one and discovering the uses of each wash, oil, soap, perfume, and lotion.
Just past mid-day, Kristina went over carefully how to make a stand alone beef and vegetable stew, and when it was warming over fireplace embers, we shared a loaf of bread under what they called The Hanging Tree.
After our meal was nothing but crumbs, we made our way to the barn. As I proved myself a professional chicken handler from my chores aboard the Anna Gale, that task was given to me. I’d collect the eggs and later, when we had a fancy for chicken and dump
lings, Lorelei would teach me how to prepare one for the pot. While I took my first lesson on milking a cow, Gable waited quietly outside the door. Thank the Lord because the last thing I wanted was for the cow to scare and kick the pathetic amount of milk I’d managed to squirt out of a marginally grumpy bovine’s udder.
After we’d mucked out the horse’s stalls, backbreaking work if I do say so myself, Kristina motioned me up a ladder to a loft. I thought there would be more hay there, but instead, part of it was partitioned off to make a small bedroom. It sat over a hearth on the first level and would likely catch an acceptable amount of warmth from the fire.
“We fixed this up after the house burned,” Kristina explained. “This was where Luke and I spent our newly wedded days, and now it’ll be yours and Gable’s until you build a house. I wanted you to sleep in our extra bedroom as that’s what Luke’s intended it for all along, but he said maybe you’d like a little privacy since you’re newly mated and all. So,” she gestured grandly, “the barn is all yours.”
Lorelei’s eyebrows knotted together in sympathy. “I know it doesn’t seem like much for a lady used to higher standards of living, but trust me when I say it’s better than sleeping in a tent in the woods. These houses weren’t here when I showed up and the barn was already occupied. It was most certainly an unpleasant surprise.”
“The barn is fine,” I assured them. “I slept in a ship hammock for six weeks, then a train, then a carriage and all on a bad hip. The bed is a welcome sight, to be sure.”
A small wooden table with a lantern and matches sat beside the inviting bed. A small rug had been thrown down as a homey touch and a rocking chair sat in front of a sizeable, uneven paned window. The sunlight streamed in waves through the lumpy glass. This would be our first home, Gable and I. I frowned at the ladder. I wished he was human to enjoy it with me. I’d have to show it to him later. When he could talk and had fewer teeth.
Chapter Fifteen
Lucianna
The day had exhausted me. There was so much to learn to be of any help working the homestead. I didn’t want to just be a pretty ornament the way I’d been in my old life. I wanted to be of value and pull my weight. These people had opened up their lives to me and I didn’t even share their blood or name.
Gable disappeared while I was setting our things up in the loft where we’d sleep. By nightfall, he still hadn’t returned. We’d planned a big welcome home dinner for Gable, but the guest of honor was sadly absent. Luke and Jeremiah built up a bonfire near the ruins of the old house in a fire pit that had obviously been used many times. With plates overflowing with the delicious stew Kristina made, with a pitiful amount of assistance from myself, we sat on old hollowed out tree stumps with seats hacked into them and talked easily in the light of the fire.
Gable finally emerged from the tree line looking disheveled and tired. I set my empty plate aside and stood. “I’ll get you some dinner.”
“I’ll come with you.”
We walked quietly, side by side, until we were at the steps of the big house. “Luc, I’m sorry.”
There was a tiny, gnawing hurt inside of me I couldn’t understand or explain. “For what?”
“For not being able to be here enough for you.” He waved half-heartedly at the foursome laughing by the bonfire. “I failed them. I’m failing you, and now I just don’t know how to fix this.”
“Gable,” I said softly. “Stop apologizing for things you can’t control. You had your reasons for staying away. You can’t keep looking back at what could’ve happened. Listen to them. Listen.”
Kristina said something crudely inappropriate and the rest of them laughed as their contentment filled the clearing.
“They’re alive and happy. You can’t change the past, Gable. You have to find a way to deal with it and move on. Let your ghosts go home.”
“I’ll try to stay with you all day tomorrow.”
I leaned my head against his chest and sighed into his strong embrace. “I missed you. I love your wolf, but it’s not the same as talking to you.” I pressed the palms of my hands against his and intertwined our fingers. “It’s not the same as touching you like this. What’s the longest you’ve gone wolf?”
His voice was so soft I almost didn’t hear him. “A year.”
His answer shocked me into stillness. “That stops now. We have to work you back up to some kind of balance. You’re using your wolf to escape painful memories you have as a human. Talk to me instead. You have a reason to spend time as both now. You have me.”
His lips brushed my hair and there was a smile in his words. “Will you give me incentives to stay a man?”
I eased back and searched his dancing eyes. The flickering light of the bonfire touched his scarred cheek and, unable to help myself, I touched it. “For every day you spend as a man, you’ll earn the night with me.”
Disappointment swam in the grim set of his mouth.
“Starting tomorrow,” I amended.
That smile. I’d do anything for that slow burning grin that sent trails of warmth through my middle like tendrils of oil against water. A smile like that could open me right up to him.
I stood over the fire in the hearth and filled his plate. Lorelei had informed me how much werewolves actually needed to eat to keep their bodies healthy and I was determined to keep Gable as balanced as possible. And he could definitely stand to gain a few more pounds after I’d nearly starved him on the boat.
He leaned against the dining table with his legs crossed at the ankles of his boots. He pulled the plate out of my hand and set it behind him before he wrapped his hands almost all the way around my waist. I was powerless to deny his wants. They were my wants to. From his almost seated position we were eye level and I found something exciting about that. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed the tanned skin there. A low rumble vibrated in his throat and I flicked my tongue against his pulse just to taste him. Such an exciting noise, that was. I got the man with a touch of the beast. How could being this close to him feel so dangerous and so right all at once?
My kisses trailed up his jawline and I splayed my fingers against the tops of his thighs. His breath quickened and, seemingly out of patience, he cradled my head in his hand and opened my mouth with his own. Before I knew it, I was up against the wall with no recollection of exactly how I’d got here. One of the iron pans that hung from a hook on the wall clanged to the wooden floorboards beneath.
Gable’s body was pressed frantically against mine and his ragged breath brushed against the sensitive lobe of my ear as he tugged the hem of my dress heavenward. I couldn’t get enough of him—not if I lived a hundred years could I get enough of the raw power he unleashed against my flesh. I closed my eyes and was swept under a tide of frenzied sensuality as his hands found purchase under my dress.
And then he froze.
No, no, no, things were going so well, but an irritated sigh burst against my neck. “Lucianna,” he purred seductively.
I opened my eyes. “Hmm?”
“Lorelei says we better not break her kitchen.”
“I didn’t hear anything.”
“It wasn’t meant for your ears.” He set me regretfully down. “We’d better get back.”
I forgot the plate of food as I swayed out the door. His kisses had a tendency to do to my body what the shot of whiskey had done. Gable, thankfully, was in more control of his mental facilities because he remembered the plate and snaked an able arm around my waist as if to steady me.
Kristina was duchess of the eyebrow waggles when we got back and the boys did a terrible job at hiding knowing smirks. Only Lorelei acted as if nothing was amiss. Apparently she didn’t notice Gable’s excited, ivory-colored eyes peeking out of his very human face, or his cowboy hat held inconspicuously across his lap but I was grateful she had manners enough not to comment. Unlike Luke and Kristina who whistled low and ribbed him relentlessly.
Gable took a seat on the ground against a felled log someone had the
good sense to drag near the warmth of the fire. Cuddling into my tree trunk seat, I wrapped my new cream colored shawl more tightly around myself. The flames between us all danced and crackled against a cloudy night sky.
“Tell us about London,” Kristina said. “Does your family still live there?”
Luke gave her a warning glance but it was too late and the question hung in the air like a snowflake scared of touching the cold ground.
“My family’s dead.”
“How?” Lorelei asked.
“I didn’t want to marry a man, and he grew angry with me and ordered my family murdered. He told his men to save me for last. My mother and father were first, and my little brother died in my arms the moment I was shot. Gable took me away before the house went up in flames.”
The firelight held everyone’s attention and Gable pulled me back into his lap. It was much warmer there. I’d never in a million years do something so wanton in my old life, but here, touch seemed necessary to these unusual men. And somewhere in my months of heartache, it had become necessary for me as well.
“Tell us about your fiancé,” Kristina suggested. “Should we worry about him?”
“Yes. He seems to have eyes everywhere. He’s American but I don’t know where from and he plans to move some of his businesses here. He’s tall but not Dawson-sized,” I said with a small smile. “He has dark hair and blue eyes. The ladies in society fawned over his unconventional beauty, but I never found him a handsome man. His eyes were cold, like that of a serpent and when he smiled, it never reached the rest of his face. It was as if he didn’t have any feelings at all.”
Kristina leaned forward as if I were telling a ghost story and Gable hugged me closer.
“He’s a coward, who hires others to murder for him, so you never know who could be watching—who could be waiting for you to slip up.”
