by D. M. Turner
He smiled. “I know it must seem… strange to you, but a pack is really a family. We’re bound together by what we are, just as surely as you and your children are bound together by blood. We’re vastly different in likes, dislikes, personality, fears, and joys. We come from diverse backgrounds and many walks of life, but we’re still family. When one suffers, all of us do.”
“I understand.” She nodded.
“Right now, the pack is suffering.” He blinked back tears. Hold it together, Campbell. “Tanya has faced repeated loss over the past several months. You and your husband turning away from her almost killed her outright.”
Mrs. Sikes’ gaze abruptly shifted to the floor.
“I’m not saying this to make you feel guilty. I want you to understand what she’s been through, and what’s still going on. The day I first brought her home, we left here when your husband told us to. She didn’t return to human form for almost two weeks. Only your son coming to see her got her back.” He couldn’t stop tears from blurring his vision. “Last night, we lost one of our own, and it’s hit Tanya very hard. I’m scared for her. She’s dealt with so much loss this year….”
“The one you lost, it was a werewolf?”
“No. She was human. The wife of one of the wolves.” He smiled despite the deep ache in his chest. “She was one of the kindest, gentlest people I’ve ever known. So… calm, quiet, soft-spoken. Her husband’s devastated, and I’m not sure he’ll survive.” A hiccupping breath warned that sobs weren’t far behind. “That’s why I’m here.” He shifted his gaze to the ceiling and took a deep, shaky breath, trying to calm his emotions. “I see him, and all I can think about is the fact I could lose Tanya. If that happened, I wouldn’t survive. I’d let the grief take me. She’s… my world in so many ways. I love her more every day, and the thought of losing her….” He shook his head. “I can’t even deal with thinking about it.”
“How did she die? This… human.”
“She had cancer. Advanced and aggressive. There was nothing anyone could do. Not us. Not the doctors. No one.”
“You couldn’t… make her one of you. I mean, if you’re immune to such things….” She shrugged, her expression curious but sympathetic.
“We couldn’t. She was too weak to survive.” Colin lowered his head to stare at his hands. “Their children are grown, so Isaac doesn’t see them as needing him like he might if they were young. My mother died when I was two. My father said knowing how much I needed him was the only thing that kept him going.”
“How did she die?”
“A mountain lion tried to run off with me. She died protecting me.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “I don’t remember her. I only know her face because my dad keeps a photograph of her on his desk.”
“Did Tanya know the woman who died?”
“Not as well as she knows Isaac, and I think seeing him suffer is tearing her apart even more than Imelda’s death. Tanya’s very sensitive to the pain of others, and she wants to make it better. The problem is, things like this can’t be made better.”
Mrs. Sikes smiled, an odd mix of humor and sadness covering her face. “Tanya’s the reason we’ve not had pets over the years. When she was about five, one of the kids brought home a goldfish from some school function. I don’t remember now what it was exactly. Tanya fell in love with that little thing. She named him Bubbles. Unfortunately, he died a few days later. She cried and cried and cried about how we should’ve made it better. Then she blamed herself. What if she’d done something wrong? What if she hadn’t loved it enough? Took us over a week to get her to eat right again. She made herself so sick over it. Will nixed pets from then on.”
“We’ve had trouble getting her to eat regularly to replace the weight she’d lost. It sounds like a rather long-standing issue.” He gave her a faint half-smile, unable to muster much more than that. “She’s done better since the incident last month that I mentioned, but she misses you, and I think that’ll continue to take a toll. My dad says she’ll get past it eventually and move forward, or she’ll finally surrender to the grief. She told him a few weeks ago that I was the only thing keeping her from drowning in grief.” Tears surged up anew, and he blinked to push them back. “Do you love Tanya?”
“More than anything in the world.” A tear slipped from one of her eyes. “She’s my baby, and she always will be.”
“Then you need to see her. Talk to her. Tell her you love her.”
“I can’t.” A sob slipped out. Mrs. Sikes put a hand over her mouth then looked at him again. “Will has forbidden it.”
“Why? What happened isn’t her fault.”
“I know that. So does he.”
“So you… don’t blame her?”
“No, of course not.”
“Then why?” Colin jumped to his feet and paced several feet away then turned to face her. “Do you realize that Tanya believes you blame her? That she’s blamed herself because of it?”
“I’m not sure I can explain it to you.”
“So, you’re going to let your daughter think you blame her for what happened, that you don’t love her, because your husband has forbidden you to have contact with her?” He barked a humorless laugh and ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe this.”
“He’s my husband, Colin. I have to respect his wishes.”
She couldn’t possibly be serious. “Even if he’s one-hundred-percent wrong?”
“Yes.”
Shock rippled through him then twisted the pain in his chest. Colin shook his head. “Then I guess there’s nothing left for me to say. If you’ll let your husband stop you from telling your child that you love her… what else can I say? I’m sorry for wasting your time.” He headed for the door. At the doorway between the living room and entry, he stopped and glanced back. “As I’m sure you know, Chris and his family and your other daughters plan to spend part of tomorrow with us. If… if you change your mind, you’re welcome to come with them. The whole pack will be there, so it’ll be a bit noisy.” He half-grinned. “If you can deal with a whole pack of werewolves, you’re welcome to come.”
Mrs. Sikes nodded. “Thank you.”
“I better go. Tanya should be awake by now, and she’ll wonder where I disappeared to.” Not that he had an answer. At least, not one that wouldn’t upset her. She wouldn’t be happy about him bugging her mother.
A smile of understanding appeared. “She’s never been a morning person.”
“She’s definitely still not. She writes after I go to bed at night.”
Her eyes widened, and her smile deepened. “She’s writing?”
He nodded. “According to my dad, she’s good, too. She hasn’t let me read it.”
“That’s wonderful. She always wanted to do that.”
“Well… have a wonderful Thanksgiving.”
“You, too.”
He lifted a hand in a weak, cursory wave then left. Well, that had been pointless.
* * *
“Do you know where he went?” Tanya frowned.
“He didn’t say.” Ian shrugged and smiled. “I’m sure he’ll be back soon. I wouldn’t worry.”
“Have you seen out there?” She pointed to the long bank of windows at the back of the house. Deep snow covered the clearing, and icicles hung from the eaves. More snow was coming down even then. “The roads are probably treacherous.”
“Tanya, Colin’s a big boy. He grew up here. He knows how to deal with ice and snow. He’ll stay safe.”
“You don’t know that! Anything can happen. Even the best drivers get in accidents, especially in bad weather.” She snapped her mouth shut to stop the flow of near-hysteria coming out. An alpha wolf wouldn’t appreciate being yelled at by a subordinate. She ducked her head and turned it sideways to expose her throat by way of an apology.
To her surprise, Ian gathered her close in a bear hug. “He’ll be okay.”
“What if he’s not?” Tears came without war
ning. “Things happen. People die.”
He gently set her away from him and cupped her chin to draw her gaze to his. “Is this really about Colin? Or last night?”
“I couldn’t help her.”
“No one could.”
“Everyone expected me to. They expected me to know how to save her.” She shook her head. “But I didn’t. I don’t have any knowledge, or power, or magic, or anything else. I couldn’t do anything.”
“Every single one of us was completely helpless. There wasn’t a person in that room who could’ve changed the outcome.”
He was right. She knew that. So why did the assurance feel so empty? “I keep seeing Isaac’s face. If it was me in his shoes, and I lost Colin….” She hiccupped. “I couldn’t take it.”
“I know. I’ve been there. Remember.”
“But you had something to live for.” She shook her head. “I don’t. He’s all I have.”
“No, he’s not. You have all of us. Above that, you have a God who loves you. As hard as it is to wrap our heads around it sometimes, He’s always there, even when it feels like we’re alone in the dark.”
“I know that in here.” She pointed to her head. “But I don’t think I’m truly convinced of it here.” She put a hand over her heart.
“God knows that.” He half-smiled. “And, thankfully, He’s very patient while we learn to trust Him.”
Tanya frowned. “I’m not sure I like His version of patient, though. He keeps letting all this junk get thrown at me.”
Ian chuckled. “I can’t say I blame you there.”
She sighed. “I think I’ll do a bit of writing while we wait for Colin to come back.”
“Sounds good.”
With a still-heavy heart, she returned to the bedroom and plopped in the chair at her desk.
* * *
Pointless, fruitless venture. Disheartened, huddled in his coat for fragile warmth, Colin stepped into the foyer of his father’s home, shut the door, and shivered. The weather had taken a nasty turn, with snow falling in increasing volume since he’d left the Sikes’ house in Flagstaff. He shed his coat and hung it in the closet. When he turned, he found his father watching him from the couch in the living room. A fire blazed in the fireplace. The man had a book open in his hands and his legs stretched along the length of the couch.
Dad closed the book, keeping a finger inside to mark his spot. “How are the roads?”
“Ugly, and getting uglier by the minute.” He frowned. “Hopefully it doesn’t prevent the pack from getting here.”
“They’ll find a way. They always have in the past.”
He should probably share Dad’s confidence, but the man hadn’t driven the road Colin had just navigated. Ice had made the highway treacherous. He’d very nearly careened into ditches at the side of the road a couple of times, sliding on ice buried under fresh snow. No point arguing about it, though. The pack either made it or they didn’t. Nothing he or Dad could do to change the outcome.
“Has Tanya been down?”
“A while ago.”
“Did she eat?”
“No.”
Colin sighed. He’d hoped after the previous night’s vent of tears that she’d be hungry. “Is she upstairs?”
Dad nodded. “She said she might try writing for a while.”
“I should check on her. She needs to eat before tonight’s Shift.”
“I agree.” Dad glanced at the clock on the wall. “I’ll fix an early lunch. All of us should eat.”
Colin nodded and headed upstairs.
The bedroom door stood open, and Tanya sat in the chair at her desk, staring at a blank piece of paper. A pen sat unused in one hand. If she heard him come in, she gave no indication.
“Can’t write?”
She jumped and whipped around in the chair to face him. Then she hopped to her feet, raced across the room, and slammed into his chest, her arms locking tightly around his waist. “Where have you been?”
The edge of hysteria in her voice clenched his heart.
She leaned back enough to look into his face. Tears glistened in her eyes. “I’ve been getting more and more certain that you were dead off the road somewhere. Even your dad didn’t know where you’d gone or when to expect you back.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.” He pulled her tight to his chest and buried his face in her hair. “I’m home safe and sound.”
Tanya suddenly stilled, sniffing his shirt. Then she stepped back. “Why do you smell like my parents’ house?”
Busted! He buried a wince. He should’ve realized she’d smell the scent on him. “I went to talk to your mother.”
Arms falling to her side, she moved out of his reach and glared at him. “How could you do that? They’ve made it clear they want nothing to do with me.”
“I know. I hoped to reason with your mom. I invited them to come for Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow.”
“And?” Hope flashed in blue eyes, right along with dread.
Colin shook his head, unsure what words to use.
Hope died, and her gaze fell to the floor.
“I’m sorry. I really wanted them to come.” He closed the distance between them and laid both hands on her shoulders. “I truly thought I could reason with her.”
“You can’t change their mind.” She shook her head. “They don’t love me, and they blame me for what happened. I’m not sure there’s any way to overcome that.”
“They love you. I know they do.”
Tanya snorted a humorless laugh. “Yeah, right. I’m feelin’ the love here.” She circled him and stretched out on their bed. “I need a nap. I’m tired.”
He smiled and lay beside her, pulling her against his chest, tucking her head close to his heart.
She tensed and moved away.
He frowned. Was she angry with him?
“Can you change clothes or something? I don’t like that smell.”
Oh. So that was the problem. Color him relieved. “Sure. I’ll be right back.”
To be on the safe side, he stripped, tossed his clothes in the hamper in the closet, grabbed sweatpants, and went to take a shower. He scrubbed his hair and washed down to ensure the smell of the Sikes’ home had been washed away. Then he dried off, pulled on the sweats, and returned to bed.
She made no protest when he pulled her to him again.
* * *
Something cold and wet touched the back of Tanya’s neck.
She reached back to brush it away, but it immediately returned when she lowered her hand again. She opened her eyes and rolled over, only to find herself nose to black nose with a grizzled dark brown, gray, and white wolf.
Yellow eyes peered at her, lit with mischief. Colin’s front end was on the bed, back paws on the floor.
“Your nose is cold.” She pulled a pillow over the back of her head to protect her neck. “It’s not time for the moon to rise yet. Go away.” She stilled. The moon’s pull was still very weak. Definitely not coming up. She could sleep a while longer. The longer she put it off, the less time she’d have to be around a grieving pack, and the less depressed she’d be. Hopefully.
He tugged on the pillow, but she held firm. He pulled harder and grumbled.
She flopped onto her back and let him have the pillow. “What?”
He stared intently at her, walked to the door, and looked back expectantly.
With a sigh of exasperation, Tanya got up and followed him.
Colin led her downstairs and into the kitchen.
Ian hauled a large roasting pan out of the oven then glanced over his shoulder and smiled. “Great timing. Dinner’s ready.”
Great. If these guys had their way, she’d be fat in no time. No point fighting them, even if she wasn’t all that hungry. To make matters worse, she found Isaac under the dining room table, already in wolf form, curled into a ball with his back to all of them. She’d forgotten Ian had kept him there since Imelda’s death. She plopped down in a chair at the tab
le. He didn’t budge, not so much as a flick of his ear.
“Eat up.” Colin set a heaping plate of pork roast in front of her, with a side of mashed potatoes. “You’ll need it to keep warm tonight while we run.” He set another plate on the floor next to Isaac, who ignored him.
Colin and Ian soon joined her with huge plates of their own. Ian said a brief blessing and dug into his food, followed by Colin.
Grimacing, she picked up a fork and began to eat.
By the time Tanya, Colin, and Ian had finished eating a while later, the others in the pack had begun to show up. All of them carried duffle bags, small suitcases, or totes large enough to contain clothes and other personal needs. A few also carried boxes or bags they deposited in the kitchen.
They’d have a houseful for the next couple of days.
* * *
Thanksgiving Day
Thursday, November 26, 2015
Tanya lifted her head when Colin nudged her.
He flicked a glance toward the opening in the rock before looking back at her.
She turned to study the dark brown and black wolf with a cream muzzle and paws curled up beside her.
Isaac didn’t move. If he’d noticed Colin, he gave no indication. He hadn’t participated in the hunt during the night, and she’d stayed with him, worried over his lack of interest.
The whole pack had been quieter and less rambunctious during that moon. The grief of losing one of their own had weighed on all of them apparently, though the fact they’d relaxed and some of the grief had lifted when Isaac slipped away suggested it was his sorrow weighing on them more than their own. She’d followed him so he wouldn’t be alone in his sadness.
She still didn’t want to leave him, so she glanced back at Colin and lowered her muzzle to her front paws.
He nuzzled her then left.
She closed her eyes and slept.
The next time she awoke, Colin knelt in the exit in human form and ran gloved fingers over her ears. She lifted her head.
“Alright, you two. Dad wants you at the house. It’s past noon. Chris and his family and your sisters will be here soon, Tanya. They called to let Dad know they’re on their way so he’d have someone at the gate to let them in.”
