WindSwept Narrows: #19 Lacie

by Diroll-Nichols, Karen

  Lacie moved as quietly as possible through the woods. Too aware that daylight wasn’t but a few hours left to her for Friday evening.

  Then she saw him. Tail down, standing on all fours and watching her. Just as he had the two previous times she’d seen him near the fence.

  “Alright…so I might be a crazy human…but I’m also all you’ve got…” she said softly, both of them appraising the other before he turned and moved quickly beneath the trees, away from the edge of salt water. They walked for about fifteen minutes before he ducked beneath a thick collection of ferns and shrubs. She drew in a long, long breath and followed slowly, letting her eyes adjust to the dimmer, large space.

  Her body froze at the low, menacing growl that definitely caught her attention. She was bent over, unmoving and waiting for her eyes to fully adjust. She reached behind her, shoving some of the branches aside and blinking quickly. That’s when she saw the pulled up lip and revealed fangs.

  Lacie stood still, fascinated when the larger male went to the one baring its teeth at her, his head next to the smaller one, nudging, licking and seeming, for all the world, as if he were whispering assurances.

  That’s when Lacie realized it was a female.

  His female, she thought, letting her gaze go along the smaller, more delicate looking silver wolf. Her breath caught in her chest and she dropped to one knee, moving cautiously, very slowly forward.

  She never questioned how she knew. Or even the why of it.

  But she was glad when the fangs were covered again.

  Moving very slowly, she slid the backpack from her shoulders, opening the first aid kit she’d put together. The stainless steel bowl the first thing she bought out, sliding it very carefully toward the female. She tipped one of the bottles of water into it. If her guess was right, she’d been there for several days without moving much. It would have hurt too badly given how her back feet were caught in the barbed wire.

  She smiled a little when she swore she saw gratitude in the pale amber eyes watching her before she put her face over the edge of the bowl and lapped until it was gone. Lacie poured more inside before lifting the wire cutters out and gently touching the wires.

  She didn’t want her jerking her haunches, pushing the spikes further into her fur. She made several clips, dropping the three inch pieces she freed into the plastic box holding her supplies. She tentatively placed her palm on the hip, stroking gently. Somehow they knew she was safe and didn’t move or jerk aside.

  She quickly pulled one of the antibiotic syringes out, pinched up a section of muscle and plunged quickly, expertly. It had been a few years, but it wasn’t a skill that vanished, she realized, capping the empty syringe and slipping it back into its slot in the case.

  She spent the next thirty minutes clipping the thick wire free, making sure she had it all before taking out the clippers and gently, carefully, shearing away fur from the lower legs. The right one wasn’t as cut and pierced as the left one was. She used the antiseptic, wiping, dabbing and cleaning punctures and slices, sitting back on her heels over an hour later, satisfied she got them all cleaned before wrapping the left leg with gauze.

  It was only then she realized she was sweating.

  A lot.

  She’d felt around and below both legs, making sure there was no more of the sharp wire, ignoring the cuts on her own fingers as she cleaned up the things she’d brought with her, stuffing things back into her pack. It was then she let her palm slide over the females’ hip, her breath catching when the slim fingers touched the slightly extended abdomen.

  Lacie smiled and looked at the male.

  “You need to take her someplace safe. Higher. Away from here,” she said softly, sanely knowing she was talking to herself, she still said it. She pulled the blanket out and curled up at the side of the small space they’d been using. It was too dark to even try and find her way back now.

  She tucked the pack beneath her head and closed her eyes, sweeping the back of her hand over her forehead. One of the last things she heard was the soft lapping against her face.

  Lacie stirred a very long time later. She smelled like the woods and…wet dog, she thought briefly, groaning, stretching and sitting up. It had been a very long time since she’d slept on the ground. She rubbed her hip and looked around groggily. Light was filtering through the trees and shrubs but there was no denying she was alone.

  She crawled carefully from beneath the covering, dragging the blanket. Lacie stretched, sighed, looked for a place to pee and folded the blanket to head home. She had her things tucked back inside the pack, slung it on her shoulders and opened a snack bar as she walked toward the water’s edge. Once she found that, she could find her way back to the resort. At least one hoped, she thought, yawning and taking deep breaths of oxygen rich, soil scented air. It smelled thick and green and fresh.

  The sun was barely peeking over the resort when she came to the edge of the Sound and turned to head north. Fog seemed to float over very still, very calm water. She found the slight opening, the break between the refuge and the state park and looked toward the buildings. Her bench, she thought, sighing and heading to the gate. Her badge slid through the slot, the gate latching behind her.

  It was nice outside. Cold, she thought briefly, pulling the blanket free and stretching out on the bench. She just wanted a little rest and lay down facing the Sound, watching the mist hover and swirl at the edge where the sand met the water.

  Chapter Five

  It was eight-fifteen when Mason Wells emerged from between the parking garage and the employee housing section of the resort. He’d seen the slight figure climb over the rise that led from the water, sunlight glinting off the halo of loose blond curls around her face. He watched her shake out a blanket and reach for the long braid that hung behind her. Fingers pulled the end free and massaged against her scalp as she stretched out on the bench.

  The color was high in her cheeks. He leaned against the chain link fence, moving slowly to avoid scaring her. But the pale lashes were open, brown eyes clear and glancing up at him quizzically.

  “You’re out and about early for a weekend,” she said quietly. “How did all the meetings go? Didn’t you say you had a full Friday of nightmare meetings and mental adjustment sessions?”

  “I do recall those words,” Mason admitted with a crooked grin. “You have your phone turned off, Lacie?”

  “Do I?” She frowned, sat up and opened her pack. “Yes…yes, I turned it off. I didn’t want to startle the wildlife,” she nodded, rummaging through the pack and surfacing with the small case her phone was inside. Thumbs tapped, lashes blinking rapidly and widening, going from the number of messages to the man watching her.

  “What happened to your hands?” Mason watched the almost absent frown on her face. She stood up and glanced down at her hands as she shook out the blanket and draped it over her arm, her pack slung over her shoulder. She shrugged.

  “Barbed wire. They should be pretty clean, though. I need a shower. A long hot shower,” she said, walking toward the employee units.

  “You do have a distinctive…perfume…today,” he commented, falling in beside her, hands deep in his pockets to avoid something that would definitely not be understood at this point.

  Lacie sniffed a couple times. “Guess so. Woods and…wet dog, I think. Hard to get that out with just a walk in fresh morning air. I suppose I got used to it.”

  “You spent the night in the woods. With dogs?”

  “No,” Lacie opened her mouth and closed it again.

  Mason clearly saw evasion play over her face. “Lacie, were you with someone?” He knew he hadn’t done a very good job of keeping the irrational anger hidden. He’d only just met her. He didn’t have the right to exert a possessive stance, yet that’s what he heard out of his own mouth.

  She thought about it for a long minute.

  “Define someone.” She winced slightly at the flat curse he uttered. She slid her thumb into the plate and pushed th
e gate open, heading to her apartment.

  “Why are you avoiding the answer?” Mason asked, frustration from his sleepless night breaking free of his control.

  “Why does it matter?” She returned with a shrug, opening the door to her apartment and striding to the table. She lifted the blanket and wrinkled her nose. “Think that needs a bath, too. Phew…” She dropped her jacket on the floor with the blanket after checking the pockets, laying her phone on the table. She emptied the pack and carried it with the laundry to the bathroom with her. “Have a seat. I’ll be quick.”

  “What’s this?” He met the eyes that glanced over her shoulder.

  “First aid kit.”

  Mason ignored the voice in his head telling him not to open the plastic container. He stood staring at the contents for several long minutes before he pulled a chair out and sunk down. He was still staring ten minutes later, trying to form a story to go with what he was seeing, when she came from the bedroom. A towel hung around her shoulders, wet hair rubbed as she went around him with a little frown.

  “You’re still here.”

  “Yeah…I’m sure there’s a psychological word for it but I’m avoiding thinking about it at the moment,” he watched her move a trash can closer to the table, her hands carefully lifting out the blood soaked gauze and actual pieces of barbed wire and dropping them inside. “Let’s try one more time, just for sanity sake, Lacie. You spent the night in the woods.”

  “Okay.” She cleaned the fur from the clippers and returned them to the case, closing it and carrying it to set by the front door before going into the kitchen. She was bent frowning into the fridge, rising with a sigh only to find herself backed against the counter. “Umm…two words for you…personal space…”

  “I’m thinking answers might be easier this way,” Mason put a solid hand on either side of her.

  “Faith was right. You definitely bear a marked resemblance to a wolf. Not the silver one, but darker…much darker,” the words trailed off with a quick gulp. He leaned closer and with the counter in the center of her back and was leaned as far back as she could safely go. He put his face into the curve of her throat and inhaled, taking in a long, deep breath of fresh Lacie. She swallowed hard and decided not to move.

  “We’ll discuss that later,” he promised, unaware of the effect the glimmer of his teeth had on her. “Where did you spend the night, Lacie?”

  “You really don’t want to know.”

  “Why?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me.”

  “Try me.”

  “A wolf den.” She waited, swallowing hard. He kept her locked in his gaze.

  “A wolf den.”

  “You asked.”

  “Why did you think I wouldn’t believe you?”

  “Because I’m used to it. I spent the better part of my life before eighteen in offices either of authority figures or…” She stopped and bit her lip, lowering her eyes to the open edge of his shirt. Until one palm came up and cupped her chin, tilting it until their eyes met again.

  “Or?”

  “Shrinks. Trying to determine why I’m lying to them and telling wild stories,” she answered with only a small hint of belligerence.

  “Alright,” he chose his next words carefully. “How about we start off right here with me saying that no matter what you tell me, if you tell me it’s the truth, I’ll believe you.”

  “You don’t realize what you’re saying,” she said in almost a whisper, eyes wide in disbelief. “No one but Shauna has ever said that to me.”

  “Shauna?”

  “My sister.”

  “Well, I’m saying it to you,” he continued to meet the pale brown eyes blinking and staring at him. “Would you lie to me, Lacie?

  “I try not to lie to anyone, but I think lying to you would be a major mistake on my part and I try and avoid those,” she leaned a little closer, peering into his eyes. “Especially when I see retribution in the eyes of the person I’m lying to.”

  Mason considered that answer and grinned crookedly.

  “You spent the night in a wolf den.”

  “Yes.”

  “It certainly accounts for the smell,” he said, almost to himself. “Why?”

  “Because I wasn’t food. He needed me. She…his mate…somehow got her back legs caught in barbed wire,” she said quietly, watching him as she spoke. “Shauna is a vet. She has a practice and works part time for the zoo and aquarium. I went and got some supplies from her.”

  “How did you know this?”

  “I don’t know. I just knew. I knew he needed my help,” she explained simply. “I don’t know how or why or where things come into my head. She’d been there several days with no water…and it must have hurt awfully.” She’d never realized how much relief would come from just being able to share her experience with someone who didn’t think she was insane.

  “And she just…a wild wolf…just allowed you to help her?” He felt his stomach twist when the large eyes filled with moisture at the memory she spoke aloud.

  “She wasn’t too keen on the idea at first,” Lacie admitted with a slight wince at the memory of the bared fangs. She closed one eye and just let her mouth go. “It honestly looked like he whispered to her that it was okay. That I was safe. I gave her water in the bowl and…an antibiotic shot…and helped.”

  “Is that how you hurt your hands?” He lifted both her hands in his, looking over the two dozen small slices and punctures on her finger tips and palms.

  “I wish I could find who would throw barbed wire into a preserve,” she said vehemently. “Some of it…I tried cutting it small and tried not…not hurting her more,” she shrugged and uncomfortably pulled her hands from his. “I used antiseptic…shaved some of the fur from her legs and cleaned the cuts and wrapped her leg with gauze. It’ll biodegrade in time…it’s cotton.”

  Mason watched her nibble on her lip.

  Lacie felt her stomach jump when his palm came up, his finger out and stroking over her lip.

  “I think we should go find some food before you devour your lip,” he backed up and glanced down at the jeans, simple tee shirt and bare feet. “Shoes?”

  Lacie continued to stare at him. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Taking you to lunch? Because I’d bet you were so involved last night, you didn’t eat. And I also bet you had one of those snack bars for breakfast,” he saw the answer in her evasion.

  “Why do you care?”

  “Do you know how an alpha wolf chooses his mate?” Mason didn’t break eye contact and saw her sup in a little breath that didn’t come back out.

  “Mate?” Came the little squeak of a voice. “I…no…well…yes…a little…” she abruptly remembered to breathe only to have it vanish again when he leaned closer. She saw his nostrils flare and knew he was inhaling deeply. Again. “I showered…” she whispered seconds before his mouth covered hers. His tongue was soothing over the lip she’d bitten, teasing and gentle.

  Lacie felt her fingers grip the counter and her chest call a halt to breathing even as her mouth softened and returned his kiss. She could still hear his question in her mind, the intensity in his eyes bringing a shiver to her.

  Mason watched the pale lashes flutter closed after the briefest look of protest in her eyes. He put his hands over hers, lifting them and fitting them against his palms. He lost himself in the softness of her kiss, the tentative pressure she returned.

  He wasn’t questioning his sanity. He’d done that most of the night. He’d done that after the first time he looked into her eyes and felt like he was drowning.

  Chapter Six

  “Brunch, Lacie,” Mason lifted his head, his voice gruff and body taut.

  “I’ll….umm…..I’ll go find shoes,” she said, nodding and sliding to the side, glancing once over her shoulder as she crossed to the bedroom.

  Mason walked around the large, open space, his gaze falling on the floor to ceiling book shelf and the collection of paperbacks and hard
back books. Something in his brain said a paperback with the theme of big bad wolf and environmental geology or another on the building codes around the world just didn’t all belong on the same shelf, yet here they were.

  He found a book on veterinary medicine, easy macramé patterns and another on cooking with balsamic vinegar. He looked over when she came out of the hall, carrying a pair of low boots and casting a curious little frown at him.

  “Mason…you really aren’t serious…” Lacie sat on the edge of the sofa, hands absently working the boots into place.

  “About lunch?” He asked, feigning innocence until she scowled at him. “Is there someone I should fight, Lacie?”

  “I…fight?” Her voice arced slightly higher. “Fight like…I…over me? No! No, of course not! No, I mean…”

  “So I’m not in competition with another guy. Do you believe pheromones are genuine?” Mason swore he could hear her whimper. She stopped in the middle of the second boot and raised her hand, one finger up before she seemed to change her mind, her head shaking and hand falling back to the zipper of her boot.

  “How old are you?” She demanded, standing up and twisting one of her feet with a little stomp to settle something, nodding when she took a step forward.

  Fierce little thing, he thought with a half-smile, noticing that she’d taken time to pull the long golden straw hair into a high ponytail that flipped when she paced.

  “Hmm…almost thirty-seven,” he met her gaze. “You think I’m suffering from a ticking clock?” He didn’t work to hide his amusement.

  “I think you operate on intimidation and you believe you can just…” her palm made a wide arc through the air. “Sweep in and knock me off balance. Well, trust me, it’s been tried before and I don’t unbalance that easily.” She informed him, pushing her shoulders back and striding to the door. It opened three inches before she saw the large palm come from behind her and shove it closed. She realized her mistake the instant she spun to face him.