Willow Run: Boxed Set (Books 1-6)

by Hart, Melissa F.

  “I’ll drink to that,” Mace agreed with a nod.

  ***

  When she got home, all Willow wanted was a hot soaking bath. Her feet were filthy from running everywhere barefoot, and between her nerves and the heat of the day, she felt coated in perspiration and ready for a good scrub.

  Sliding into the hot water, she felt her body finally unclench. She was happy for Katie that her friend and Guy were on the road to reconciliation, and frankly relieved that she could scratch one name off her dance card. Somehow the choice between Mace, the last catamount, and the herbivore Chris seemed a little more manageable, somehow easier to think about the pros and cons of what a relationship with each of them might mean.

  The elephant in the room, of course, was the subject of her maker. She was a few days away now from the full moon and her first shift, and no closer to knowing who had made her or why. She closed her eyes as she soaked, determined not to think about it, and found herself humming that earworm of a tune that George always whistled. She made a mental note to ask him about it on Monday.

  The fatigue of the day washed over Willow as the warm bathwater soothed her frayed edges. Exhausted, she grew drowsy and slipped into slumber, never noticing the cat eyes peering at her through the bathroom window.

  TO BE CONTINUED IN BOOK SIX: Time to Change - Volume 6

  ***

  Time to Change

  ***

  Synopsis

  The closer it gets to the full moon and Willow’s first shift, the more suspicious Willow becomes of anyone who isn’t on ‘Team Willow.’ So when her best friend Katie wants to expand her circle of shifter mentors to include someone new, Willow balks even though Nicholas is a very handsome addition…and a real ‘prince’ of a guy. A series of events leading to a startling revelation change her perspective, though, on whom she can trust, and whom she might love.

  ***

  “Guys, I…can’t take any more.” Willow slumped in the booth at Green’s Diner, resting her head on her arms. “I slept about twenty-seven seconds last night. The Bramley’s terrier snatched chicken leftovers off the kitchen counter and bone splinters perforated his intestine. I was in emergency surgery with George until three a.m.” Willow yawned sleepily. “At four, I got called out for a cow with a uterine prolapse, and then I had a full day in the clinic—the highlight of which was Timmy Whittles totally losing it because I couldn’t bring his hamster back from the dead.”

  “What? Necromancy isn’t part of your job description?” Katie snorted a laugh.

  Michael glanced at his phone. “Yeah, it’s almost ten. We’ve been at it for over three hours.”

  Nodding in agreement, Gretchen teased, “It won’t be good if you’re exhausted Friday night, as I’m pretty sure we won’t find a necromancer listed in the East Lindenbury Yellow Pages.”

  “You still use Yellow Pages?” Michael quipped, spinning his smartphone in Gretchen’s face.

  Willow responded with a tired laugh. “Have I ever told you all how much I love your twisted sense of humor?”

  “Are you hungry?” Katie added. “Do you want another steak?”

  “Right now, I just need to sleep. And not on the couch in the clinic.” Willow sat up, running her hands back through her hair. “I know you guys want to make sure I’m prepared for my first shift, but really, I can only process so much at one time anyway.” She patted Gretchen’s hand. “You are all doing a great job of getting me ready. No necromancer will be needed.”

  “Guy said his offer to shift with you still stands,” Katie said, standing up and stretching. “Another cat might be a good thing.”

  Willow was happy that Katie and Guy’s reconciliation was full steam ahead, but she didn’t want to take advantage of that fact. After what Katie had been through with his very own father, Guy needed to focus completely on taking care of his wolf, even if she was acting like everything was okay. Willow shook her head. “If I let Guy shift with me, then Mace will have his feelings hurt.”

  “Then take Mace,” Gretchen suggested. “He’s the biggest cat around.”

  “If Mace goes, then Chris will be upset.” Willow gave her friends a sleepy smile.

  “Damned if you do, damned if don’t, huh?” Michael commented.

  “Something like that.” Willow rubbed her eyes. “Let’s stick to plan—none of the guys can know where I’m going to run. It’s just easier that way. I need to get through this without any more distractions.”

  “The thing is,” Katie added, “I keep thinking about the fact that we still don’t have any idea who made you, or what his bigger plan might be.”

  “I seriously doubt that he made me in order to kill me on my first shifter run. I’ll see you guys tomorrow evening. I’d appreciate it if you’d pray that there aren’t any veterinary emergencies tonight. I’ve still got overnight call until Friday.” Willow dragged her weary body to the door of the diner, looking up at the sign on the wall. “You know, Katie, why is this place called Green’s anyway? Why isn’t it Katie’s or LeClerk’s or some predictably New England café name?

  “What, you think I should call my diner Fiddlehead’s or The Wild Mushroom?” Katie laughed. “No big mystery, the guy I bought it from was Bob Green. It had been Green’s for fifty years, so I didn’t see the need for a change.”

  Willow let out a sigh. “Yeah, I can understand that. I’m feeling a little ambivalent about the need for a change myself.”

  ***

  At five o’clock, the Wetherwell Veterinary Clinic started to wind down. Samuel called in from the road to say he was heading directly home from the farm he was on, and George had ferried their last drop-off patient from the kennels to meet his owner out front. Willow was sanitizing surfaces with antiseptic wipes and feeling good after a decent night’s sleep. George went to the medication fridge and returned with a couple of beers.

  Holding them up with a smile, he looked at Willow. “I brought in a six-pack!”

  “Nice!” Willow balled up the wipe in her hand and shot it basketball style at the garbage can as George popped the tops. Taking the bottle, she clinked her beer against George’s in a toast. “Another day of veterinary awesomeness and wonder at the Wetherwell Clinic,” she said with a smile, flopping down in a waiting room chair and waving her hand at George to do the same.

  “The Bramley’s garbage disposal seems to be recovering nicely,” George said wryly, taking a seat.

  Willow giggled a little. “And everyone acts like the fact that cats are finicky is a bad thing. Gawd, dogs have no discrimination.”

  George nodded knowingly. “I helped Samuel remove a tennis ball one time from a retriever’s gut. I mean, an entire tennis ball. It wasn’t chewed up or anything. I couldn’t even figure out how he got it down his esophagus.”

  Willow took a hit from her beer. “How’s Winston doing?”

  “Good as new. He’s completely back to his manipulative self.”

  “Excellent.”

  Hesitating for a moment, George asked, “How’s Mace Leland’s cat doing?”

  “How’d you know Mace Leland brought his cat in? That was before clinic hours.” Willow sat up a little, curious.

  “Oh you know, I worked on billing Friday afternoon while everyone else was out.”

  Willow rubbed her chin. Samuel must have put something on the books, as she hadn’t written anything down for Earl’s unscheduled, non-medical visit. But she had distinctly told Samuel after her encounter with Mace that day that it was ‘only a quick follow-up,’ and she felt it should be complimentary.

  Suddenly, Willow had a strange feeling about George. Was he tracking her and what she did? She knew he seemed to have a bit of a crush on her, but she didn’t think he would stalk her. Then a memory of cat eyes peering through her bathroom window slapped her to attention.

  What if George was a cat? What if he was not only her stalker, but also her maker? She gulped a little, her imagination running wild. She tried to remind herself that she had never sensed
any indication that George was a shifter. But there was a lot she didn’t yet know about shifters. Maybe he was very, very good at hiding that fact. Maybe…

  George looked at the waiting room clock and drained his beer. “I better get going. I promised my mom I’d work on the lawn today. She has a fit if there’s a single dandelion.” He shook his head. “It’s tough, you know. I moved in when my dad passed away, thinking it would only be for a few months, but now I feel like I’m going to be stuck there forever. I think her lawn obsession is her way of grieving. My dad was always the one who took care of the yard.”

  Her colleague’s comment arrested Willow’s runaway thought train. He’d never said much about his personal life before, and this new information made him sound like a kind man who was stuck between a rock and a hard place. “I’m—I’m so sorry, George.” Willow didn’t know if she was offering condolences for his father’s death, the situation with his mother, or apologizing for silently accusing him of being a real fur ball.

  “Don’t be.” George forced a sad smile. “Life throws curve balls at all of us. I just need to figure out how to help my mom accept the facts as they are so we can both get on with our lives.” Stopping at the door, he turned back to look at Willow. “Clearly, from the way I acted the other night with Guy Beaugrand, I’m a little envious of autonomous adults.”

  “Don’t be so sure the grass is greener on the other side of the fence. Guy’s not had it easy either where parents are concerned.” Willow gave George a little wave. “I’ll lock up. See you tomorrow.”

  George nodded, and unconsciously, he began whistling his theme tune as he headed out the door.

  Willow called after him, “George, I’ve been meaning to ask you, what’s that tune? It sounds so familiar.”

  “Oh, that. It’s from a symphony by Mahler. It sounds familiar because it’s based on the nursery song you probably know as Frère Jacques, but Mahler, well, he turned it into the funeral march for a hunter. Sounds more carefree than sad, though, huh?”

  As she sat alone, thoughtfully finishing her beer, Willow considered how exactly did one accept facts, as they are, in order to get on with one’s life? Did it mean transforming something—or someone—innocent through the knowledge that death lurked around the corner? She brooded a little, contemplating her attack, and the helplessness of feeling like the hunted, not the hunter. Would that change after her first shift? Would she have a new identity as a hunter rather than as prey?

  Getting up, Willow shut off the lights and locked the door. On the way to her car, she began humming, not Mahler, but Frère Jacques, remembering that the words were about waking up. Maybe, she thought hopefully, she would wake up to being more carefree than sad.

  ***

  Willow could tell the moment she came through the door at Green’s that Katie had something up her sleeve.

  “Sit down,” Katie ordered.

  Willow sat across from her friend in one of the booths. Katie had a couple of raw burgers waiting for her. Willow looked at the plate, wanting to resist the bait, but after a moment of salivating, she broke down and launched into one. “Well, get on with it. You’ve got that look.”

  “This afternoon, I was cleaning the walk-in cooler, and I suddenly had the best idea.”

  Raising an eyebrow, Willow regarded her friend. “Yessss?”

  “So, I get it why you can’t have Chris, or Guy or Mace at your shift, but wouldn’t it be awesome to have someone there who could, if needed, kick some serious ass?”

  “I thought that was supposed to be you and Gretchen.” Willow chewed.

  “Well, yes, I mean, we could help in an emergency, but it would be so much better to have a real…champion.” Katie’s eyes gleamed.

  “A champion? What? Are we jousting now? Or am I being thrown into the Roman coliseum? What do you mean, champion?” Willow looked skeptical. “Don’t over-react. We don’t even have concrete proof that I’m going to need someone to help me. Besides, we’ve either involved or eliminated every shifter I really know.”

  “Not every shifter.” Katie wiggled her eyebrows.

  Willow was starting to get impatient. “Spit it out, girlfriend.”

  “Nicholas!”

  “Nicholas?”

  “Like I’ve told you before, you’ve never seen what kind of havoc a pissed off bull moose can wreak. They can kick in all four directions, and well, frankly they can stomp a wolf into the ground.”

  Willow rolled her eyes. “So what makes you think that Nicholas wants to get tangled up in my first shift?”

  “Well, for starters, I asked him.”

  “Did you check with Gretchen on the etiquette of asking for a favor from an almost boyfriend you dumped in the middle of a wedding for your one true love?”

  Katie looked sheepish. “No, but…”

  “That’s right, no buts. Forget it. I already owe too many people as it is.” Willow was ranting so hard, she didn’t hear the bell on the door jingle as it opened behind her.

  Katie tried to interrupt, “Willow…”

  “Don’t try to convince me, Katie. I don’t need some bone-cracking, royal swamp walker on Team Willow.”

  “Are you sure about that?” A rich baritone voice sounded behind Willow, making her jump. “You know,” Nicholas added dryly, “you really startle easily.”

  Turning, Willow tried to summon a friendly smile through her mortification. She wasn’t sure what was worse, calling an orthopedic surgeon a bone cracker, or referring to a moose prince as a royal swamp walker. “Nic…” Remembering her etiquette lessons, she corrected, “Prince Nicholas! Hello! What brings you to Green’s?”

  Her demeanor certainly didn’t fool him. “Look, I’m not trying to be pushy, I just offered to help.” He shrugged. “But hey, if you’ve got ‘Team Willow’ under control, I’ll leave and go find some bones to crack.” He headed back toward the door.

  Katie rushed to make amends. “No, please… Prince Nicholas, please sit down.”

  “It’s not that I don’t want your help,” Willow struggled to clarify. “I’m not sure that I need it.”

  Nicholas slid into the booth next to Willow. “Then what’s the harm? I’m not heading back to Maine to pack up my place until next week, and…it’s not like I have a hot date on Friday night.” He raised an eyebrow at Katie, but it was clear he didn’t begrudge her getting back with Guy, considering all of the circumstances. Elbowing Willow in the ribs, he called her out playfully. “Come on. Every team needs a muzzle loader.” He turned in profile and pointed to his rather prominent feature. “Forget my hooves and antlers, I could take out most cats with this schnozz!”

  His good humor was disarming, and Willow felt herself caving in. “I…you know…I don’t want to be a bother.”

  “Then don’t be.” He flashed his gorgeous smile. “If there is some nasty yowler on the prowl Friday night, I’d enjoy turning them into swamp mud. And if there isn’t, well, I had a nice full moon run. It’s not like I don’t need to change, too.”

  “That’s what I was trying to say,” Katie said triumphantly.

  “Okay, okay, stop ganging up on me!” Willow slouched in defeat. “But you can’t tell Chris.”

  Nicholas drew at ‘X’ on his chest. “Cross my heart. Mums the word.” Suddenly Willow was conscious of the ground beef on the plate in front of her. She quickly tented a paper napkin over her plate, afraid that Nicholas might be disgusted. Nicholas pulled it off. “And I know you’re a carnivore. It’s okay, even if you are chowing down on one of my domesticated brethren.” He winked at Katie. “I know that Green’s is officially closed, but would it be a lot of trouble to rustle me up a nice big salad?”

  “One chef salad coming up.” Katie scooted out of the booth.

  “Just hold the chef and save him for me,” Willow joked, smacking her lips loudly.

  Nicholas looked at Katie, a smile overtaking his face. “Remarkable. Her sense of humor has returned. Maybe we’ve won the battle, if not the war.”


  ***

  As the front door of the clinic opened, Willow looked up from the computer where she was checking the afternoon appointments. Her boss’ wife walked in and Willow greeted her cheerfully. “Grace! How nice to see you.”

  “I hope I’m not interrupting anything important.” Grace smiled back, adjusting her sun hat. “I’ve been so busy with our garden and summer chores that I haven’t been by to check on how you’re settling into East Lindenbury. And, well, I was feeling a little remiss. I made you some banana bread.”

  Grace held up a foil wrapped loaf. The smell of bananas made Willow’s feline stomach churn, but that, she reminded herself, wasn’t Grace’s fault. “Thank you so much! Here, let me put it into the fridge for our afternoon break. Come on back with me.”

  “You seem to be fully recovered from your…incident,” Grace said politely. “I did come by to check on you after you got home from the hospital, but you must have been sleeping that day.”

  “Samuel told me. I’m sorry, too, I should have called you.” Willow slipped the bread into the fridge. “But I was back on my feet so quickly, I didn’t think too much about it. You’re absolutely right, I’m doing great.” She smiled warmly at Grace. “I’d love to have you and Samuel over for dinner soon, maybe next week?”

  “What a lovely idea! But I think we’re going to try to get away for a few days next week. Go over to Lake Champlain. That is…if you don’t mind holding down the fort?”

  “Of course not. Isn’t that why I’m here? So you can get your workaholic husband to take some time off?”

  Grace chuckled a little. “Yes, I suppose that’s right…so how do you like it here in the Kingdom? Must be a big change after Boston.”