by Zoe Chant
He would. Somehow, he was going to solve this problem in a way that freed Lillian from this—this repression of herself.
“So why are you here?” Mrs. Lowell looked at Cal with a clear-eyed hostility that said she didn’t appreciate this threat to her absolute control of her daughter.
“Just helping out, ma’am,” he said blandly.
As much as he would’ve liked to give her a piece of his mind, it seemed best to follow Lillian’s lead for the moment: politely vague and unhelpful. After all, they did have a bigger problem at hand.
But Cal had marked her: her days as a petty dictator were numbered.
“Lillian,” Mrs. Lowell said in a steely tone, without taking her eyes off of Cal, “That monster who kidnapped Teri is a park ranger, isn’t he?”
She said it so utterly matter-of-factly that it took a moment for Cal to really hear her.
He knew that Teri’s mother had called the police on Zach after Teri had moved out of this house and in with him. He’d heard thirdhand from Grey, another one of his rangers, that there had been something of an embarrassing scene where Teri had had to explain to the officers that no, she hadn’t been kidnapped, she was living with Zach of her own free will and her mother was simply overprotective.
Mrs. Lowell had pulled something similar when Teri had come to the Park last spring while in the last stages of recovery from a car accident, and Cal had been peripherally involved, and heard a similar embarrassed explanation.
It looked like Mrs. Lowell had told everyone a story where the shifters had kidnapped her daughter against her will. Maybe she’d even started to believe it herself. And now she was suspicious of Cal.
“Teri’s fine, Mom,” Lillian said, hefting her bag over her shoulder.
That set her mother off. Cal wondered if it had been calculated to do so, because while Mrs. Lowell went off on a rant about how her younger daughter was absolutely not fine, and the shifters had stolen her away and turned her into an awful monster and et cetera, Lillian started down the hall toward the stairs.
Cal followed. It certainly was a good distraction against any further interrogation about him and what he was doing there.
Although he wasn’t sure he liked the idea that Lillian might be protecting him from her mother’s questioning. Because more and more, he was starting to feel as though someone should be protecting her. Since her parents obviously never had.
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Lillian let her mother grandly go take up a position in the living room, ready to rant some more, while she leaned in to say to Cal, “Can you step outside and check to see if the mountain lions have been around? I’ll be out in a minute.”
Cal hesitated. “I don’t want to leave you here like this.”
Lillian gave him an exasperated look. “Cal. I live here. Please.”
“Just because you’re used to it doesn’t mean you should have to put up with it for one more minute,” Cal said, in a fierce undertone. “But all right. One minute.”
Lillian’s mouth quirked up in a tiny smile. “Starting now.”
Cal automatically began counting in his head as he headed for the door, to the echoes of, “What were you just saying to him? Where is he going?” from the living room.
Lillian said calmly, “Just telling him to leave, Mom, it’s clear he’s not welcome here,” and Cal had to shake his head again at how good she was at deflecting the subject.
He stepped outside into the warm sun, took a second to take a deep and quiet breath, and then ducked around the side of the house and shifted.
By the time Lillian came out—fifty-nine seconds later—he was human again and waiting by the car.
“They’ve been here,” he said to her. “But not for a day or two; the scent’s old. I’d say that staying away is the right thing to do. It looks like they haven’t bothered to keep an eye on the place while you’ve been gone. There was no trace of them inside the house—in an enclosed space like that, I would’ve been able to catch some kind of hint even in human form.”
Lillian nodded. “Good.” She tossed her bag in the backseat and got in the car just as the door to the house opened again. Cal took his place in the passenger’s seat and they drove off, leaving Mrs. Lowell silhouetted furiously in the doorway.
***
Lillian was so embarrassed. She wished she could’ve had Cal stay in the car. But he’d had to come out to see if the mountain lions were watching the house, and there was no way her mother would’ve allowed him to just hang out on the lawn. She would’ve come outside to interrogate him about what he was doing there.
So the best thing to do had been to bring him inside, let her mother get angry and want him back outside, and then send him out to shift very discreetly and do his sniffing around. Besides, she really had wanted to know if somehow the mountain lions had come in, so Cal had had to be in the house to see if he could scent them there.
Her parents made her crazy, but that didn’t mean she wanted them to be in danger.
But it meant that Cal had witnessed her mother in full form...and Lillian just bowing her head and accepting it.
She was ashamed, sometimes, of how she acted at home. The way she folded up any backbone she might’ve ever possessed and meekly nodded her head to her mother’s dictates. Said, All right, and That sounds best, and Of course.
But normally it was a private shame. It was something she was doing so that she could put her life back together—although she’d probably be in her late thirties by the time she managed it, and any dreams of a better marriage and maybe even children out the window by then. But still. She was working quietly to get her freedom back.
This was the first time anyone outside the family had witnessed it. And it made her just want to hide her face forever.
Especially considering who Cal was. A Marine veteran, an experienced park ranger, and a shapeshifter. A snow leopard. A fierce wild cat.
Whereas Lillian was more like a scared mouse.
Cal broke the silence in the car suddenly, his deep voice seeming to spread through the space and...warm it up somehow. “I don’t know how much you know about snow leopards.”
It wasn’t what Lillian had been expecting to hear. She glanced over; Cal was looking casually out the window. “A bit,” she said cautiously. “I’ve done some reading, since Teri was changed. We have a few books on big cats in the library.”
“One of the snow leopard’s biggest weapons is camouflage,” Cal said quietly.
Lillian perked up. “Oh, yes! I saw this on the Internet. There were pictures of rocky mountainsides, and you’d have to try to find the snow leopard in the picture. And I never could, it was impossible! Then they’d circle it for you on the website, and I’d finally see it, but really the snow leopard was so well camouflaged it might as well be invisible.”
Cal looked over at her, smiling a little bit. “You did do some research.”
Lillian shrugged, suddenly a bit uncomfortable. “Well, my sister just became one. And I’m a librarian, it’s my job.”
“No, I admire that. Most people just make assumptions about things, don’t take the time to look deeper. It’s a good trait.”
His warm approval seemed to wash over her. Lillian looked away. What was it about this man?
Maybe the fact that he’d ditched everything to help her out of a dangerous situation. That probably had something to do with it.
Although that didn’t explain why she found his face so compelling—his features weren’t classical handsome, rougher than the smooth lines of a Hollywood actor, but she felt like she could watch him forever.
He was talking again, and she shook herself out of her reverie. This wasn’t like her at all.
“Snow leopards are masters of camouflage. I’ve never been as good at it as some others—too big, not as good at darting around. But I still like to fly under the radar a bit. We all do. We’re not like stags or wolves or lions, making big displays all the time. Only if we absolutely have to.”
&nb
sp; Lillian nodded, still not quite understanding where this was going, but willing to listen until it got there.
“All that’s just to show you that I mean what I say when I tell you how impressed I am at how you’re handling that situation at home.”
“Oh,” Lillian said faintly.
“Sometimes, you can’t make a big display,” Cal said. “Sometimes you’ve got to stay in a dangerous situation, and if you push a big confrontation, you’ll mess everything up. Sometimes if you fight, you’ll lose more than just the fight. And the person who can keep going under those circumstances, who can move forward day after day, keeping themselves inside and getting what they need slowly but surely—that person is strong. That person is someone to watch out for. Because they know how to win.”
“...Oh,” Lillian said again, and this time it was only the faintest breath of sound.
Never once had she thought of her situation in those terms. She wasn’t someone who knew how to win, was she? She was someone who was making the best of having lost big.
“It’s a hard thing to do,” Cal added. “It’s hard as hell, pardon my language. So I hope you get breaks from it. I hope you’ve got somewhere you can get away. And now that you’re part of our pack, you’ve got more help and a better escape, if you choose to use it.”
Lillian’s brain caught on one specific phrase in that. “Part of your pack?” she repeated.
Cal nodded slowly. “Forgive me if I’m overstepping. It’s up to you, of course. But your sister’s part of the pack, and you don’t need to be a shifter to be one of us. One of my best rangers, Jeff, has a mate and a stepdaughter who’re both human, and they belong with us just as much as anyone else.”
That—was too much. The whole idea was too much. Another family? Lillian part of Teri’s happy little community? It didn’t seem possible.
But Cal looked serious.
“I’ll—I’ll think about it,” she managed faintly.
Cal seemed to accept that. “No problem. Take your time. Nothing’s set in stone.”
The lack of pressure helped her relax a bit more. And then they were pulling back into Teri’s driveway, and the conversation ended.
Cal got out, and said, “You can follow me to my place. I’ll make sure you’re close behind. It gets a bit winding toward the end.”
Lillian promised to follow closely, and soon they pulled away again, heading...up into the mountains.
Lillian should’ve figured—he’d chosen to devote his life to the Park, so it made sense that he wanted to live out in the wilderness. But she was suddenly apprehensive about what his place was going to look like. A rickety cabin? No indoor plumbing? He seemed like the kind of man who wouldn’t mind living rough. Particularly considering he was a shifter.
But she was wrong. After following a winding mountain road for less time than she’d been anticipating, they pulled out into a wide clearing with a solid-looking little house. Not a cabin, a house. It didn’t seem rickety at all, and there was no sign of an outhouse.
Cal got out of his car and came up to hers; when she opened the back and got her back, he held out a hand, eyebrows up—not taking it, just offering to carry it.
Slowly, she handed it over. He smiled, his eyes crinkling. “Thanks.”
Thanking her for the opportunity to help her. It was so—strange.
He led her up to the house, unlocking the door and showing her in.
It was a beautiful, beautiful building. So much rich wood everywhere, an open-plan space with a nice-looking full kitchen, an area in front of the fireplace with a soft couch, and stairs leading up to a second floor.
“I’ve got a small guest room through there,” Cal said, pointing to a door at the far end. “I sleep upstairs, so you’ll have plenty of privacy. The bathroom’s right there.” Another small door.
He led her through to the guest room, which was very simply-appointed: a small bed, a little end table, a wooden chair.
“Sorry it’s not nicer,” Cal said quietly. “I’ve always lived here alone, I don’t know much about decorating or anything like that. Keep on meaning to figure out how to spruce the whole place up a little, get some pictures on the wall or something, but it never really happens.”
“It’s absolutely fine,” Lillian said, setting the bag down. “And it wouldn’t take much—the place is already beautiful. All of this wood!”
Cal nodded. “The building’s fantastic. Solidly built, excellent construction, it’ll last forever. And I like the look of it. There’s just no finishing touches, really.”
Lillian followed him back out to the main area and sent a practiced eye around. Typical for a man—the basics of furniture were all there, but there were no accents. “It’d be easy to make it look more finished,” she told him. “Some rugs, some throw pillows, a nice photograph or two on the walls...maybe some plants.”
Cal grinned. “Maybe I should hire you as my interior designer, then.”
Lillian laughed a little. “Oh, no. I’m just parroting Pinterest back at you, that’s all.”
“Well, I don’t even know what that is, so you’re definitely a step ahead of me,” he countered.
“It’s a pretty frivolous website,” Lillian admitted. “All décor and style and silly things. Not something I’d expect most men to care much about.”
“Hey,” Cal said. “Just because it’s a site for women doesn’t make it silly. I just said I wished I knew how to do all this stuff. Being a bachelor, it means you lose out on the sort of things women learn how to do. Having a decent-looking house isn’t a frivolous thing.”
“No, I suppose not,” Lillian said slowly. She wondered if that meant Cal...regretted being a bachelor. Was he looking for someone now?
No, that was reaching. He hadn’t said he wanted a relationship at all, just that he wished he knew some of the things women were educated in. That was practically the opposite of wanting a relationship. Besides, everything about this solid little house in the woods screamed self-sufficient anyway.
“So,” Cal said, interrupting her thoughts, “it’s getting to be around lunchtime. Are you hungry?”
Twenty minutes ago, Lillian could’ve sworn she was too tense to ever be hungry again, but now she suddenly found that she was ravenous. “Yes,” she said, surprised.
“Good,” he said with a smile. “I like to cook, but I hardly ever get anyone other than myself out here to do it for.”
See, Lillian told herself, he’s saying he doesn’t date. He’s happy to be single.
“So why don’t you go get yourself settled in, and I’ll put something together for lunch?”
Lillian caught up with what he was saying. “Wait,” she said. “I’m imposing on your hospitality enough already. You shouldn’t have to wait on me as well.”
“Absolutely not,” Cal said with conviction. “You’re a guest in my home. I’m not letting you cook for yourself. Anyway, I have to eat lunch, too, so I might as well make it for two.”
Well, she couldn’t really argue with that logic, although it felt unnatural to go off to the guest room while someone else cooked for her. At home, Lillian did most of the cooking, since neither of her parents were very good at it.
Which some people might have objected to, but Lillian found that she appreciated the half-hour or more she got alone in the kitchen; her mother usually took that time to watch TV, so it was a welcome break to spend by herself.
But now she got a break while someone else cooked for her. It was very strange.
Lillian took advantage of it, though; she spent a few minutes unpacking her things and putting them in the tiny closet in the guest room, and then just took a few deep breaths. Everything had happened so fast, and now she was in this man’s home, trusting him to protect her from danger.
But she did trust him. That was the strangest part. She felt absolutely confident in Cal’s sincerity, as well as his ability to keep her from getting hurt.
...and the way his eyes seemed to warm when he loo
ked at her, as though there was a gleam of silver flame buried inside that deep, dark gray color...
Lillian had to admit it, at least to herself. She was attracted to Cal. He moved with a noticeable grace that belied his height and impressive build; it was like he knew what every muscle was doing at any moment, and they all worked together in a flowing efficiency that was impossible not to watch.
And the way his smile crinkled the corners of his eyes...
Plus, there was just so much about him that was attractive. He’d welcomed her sister into his—his pack. He’d given her a job at the Park. He clearly cared immensely about Glacier, and also about the people who worked under him there. He took care of himself; the careful severity of his haircut and the crisp creases in his uniform would probably have betrayed his military history even if he hadn’t mentioned it, and Lillian admired any man who took the time to put effort into his appearance.
And he was older than she was—and he was a man, not an overgrown boy. She hadn’t met many men since her divorce, but the ones who were still single at her age or above tended to be the ones who had never grown up, and so never wanted to settle down and take responsibility for their lives, get married and have children.
She wondered what had prevented Cal from doing so. It certainly wasn’t desirability.
Although she also had to wonder how much of this was her just comparing Cal to Lew and coming up with all opposites. Was she just happy to find someone as little like her ex-husband as possible?
And if she was, would it be a bad thing?
Besides, Cal wasn’t just a list of characteristics that equated to Not-Lew. He was a good, kind, thoughtful, strong man.
And a shifter.
Lillian took a final deep breath and went out into the kitchen—only to stop short at the sight of the countertops covered in food-prep. Her eyebrows went up. “This is more elaborate than I was expecting.”
Cal glanced over his shoulder and smiled, although it looked kind of...embarrassed? Yes, there was that slight pink flush creeping up his neck. Lillian was surprised to realize she recognized it already—and found it endearing as all get-out.
