Cowboy Wolf Trouble

by Kait Ballenger

  “That’s misleading, and you know it.”

  “You weren’t exactly in a mood to listen to reason last night.” He held a bridle out for Black Jack to bite. The horse obeyed but nipped at his finger as he did it. Wes either didn’t notice or was so used to the horse’s behavior that he didn’t care.

  She scoffed. “You try being in my position and behaving reasonably.” She said it as if it was a dirty word. Reasonable. Ugh. He sounded like her idiot brother, trying to convince her to sign on with any investor that pounded on the ranch door. She and Jacob had decided together that the only way to bolster the ranch’s financial profit was to turn the home where they’d grown up into a farm-to-table bed-and-breakfast. The old farmhouse was far too large for just her anyway, and Jacob had his own place.

  Ranching by nature wasn’t the most profitable of businesses, especially calculating overhead costs, but it was a different era even since the time of her childhood. They had an average-size ranch, about two thousand acres. But every day, small farms and cow-calf operations like theirs were being swallowed up in favor of massive corporate CAFOs, where the animals were treated with little respect, and disease and mess ran rampant, cutting quality in favor of big profits. If she and her brother wanted their father’s legacy of pure, clean ranch and farm life to live on—which she did—the ranch needed new vitality and life. But for the changes she and her brother envisioned, they needed a fair amount of money, something they sorely lacked. The little bit they’d had in her father’s estate, set aside for this very investment, had been allocated to his medical debt, leaving them up a creek of financial issues without a paddle.

  It’s this or let the ranch go under, Naomi. We can allow investors and still maintain the legacy of the ranch. Be reasonable. Her brother’s voice echoed in her head.

  She refused to accept any old offer that walked through her door. She would find an investor, one who would allow her to maintain the integrity and heart of the ranch, of their family home, but she needed the right one. In his fear of losing everything, Jacob was in too much of a hurry to accept an offer. His love was blinding him. It was just a matter of time until they found the investor she wanted. She was certain.

  Wes shrugged. “I didn’t say your concern wasn’t warranted.” He pulled back on the reins, and Naomi stepped closer to a nearby tree as he guided the animal forward several feet.

  “What do I have to do to get the pack’s protection?”

  “You’ll need to follow my directions and come with me. We’ll likely have three moons before you can return to your ranch.”

  “Three moons? What the hell does that mean? And what about my ranch? My livestock? Who’s going to care for them in my absence?” Managing the ranch was her sole responsibility. She had a few ranch hands who helped out on a part-time basis, but that was hardly enough to keep the operation afloat in her absence.

  “It’s how wolves measure time. Three nights. In that time, the Grey Wolves will likely put a patrol on your ranch to watch over the place, see if there really are vampires attacking your flock, corroborate your story. I’ll send some ranch hands to care for your livestock while you’re gone. Then you’ll need to swear fealty to the Grey Wolves.”

  Naomi’s eyes widened, and she shook her head. “Uh-uh. No way. I am not becoming your pack’s human pet…”

  “You won’t be a pet. All it means is that you’re loyal to the Grey Wolves, that your goals are aligned with ours.”

  “And what do you get out of all this? Out of helping me?” She had no idea what his endgame was.

  “The Wild Eight have teamed up with the vampires. They won’t stop until I’m dead. I won’t stand on the sidelines for this. If I figure out why the Wild Eight and the vampires are targeting you, it may save my own life.”

  She wanted to ask why the Wild Eight wanted him dead, but that was a question for another time. This was already too much to take in. She paused, attempting to process what he was telling her—and what he wasn’t. Really, what choice did she have? “And when this is all over?”

  “No more vampires will be exsanguinating your flock, and you’ll be free.”

  Free. The word slammed into her, filling her with hope for her survival, more hope than standing so close to a werewolf who could murder her with his bare hands should have allowed. “If I do this, you’ll really let me go?” she asked.

  “I’ll take you home myself.” He mounted his horse.

  She followed him, fully expecting him to ride away without her. He had saved her life, and somehow, she knew he would do it again. She couldn’t say that of anyone else she’d ever trusted.

  He pulled back on the horse’s reins. The mustang came to a stop, and Wes twisted back toward her. For a moment, he simply lingered there, staring at her as if he was taking her in. With his wolf eyes ablaze and his Stetson shadowing parts of his face, he looked far too mysterious, too dangerous to trust.

  Finally, he extended a large hand down to her. “You coming or not?”

  If what he said was true, then she had no choice. Her family’s ranch—the life her father had built for their family on that small patch of land and its success—had meant everything to her father. It was his personal piece of heaven. She’d sworn to him before he died that she would take care of it at all costs. She wasn’t about to let it be destroyed by big corporations, vampires, or whatever else came along. Her choice was to go with Wes or to risk her life in the forest with the pack of werewolves at her heels, and where would that leave her, even if she did manage to get back to her ranch?

  A mischievous grin crossed his face. “If you don’t want to get on the horse, I can always spank you again…”

  She scowled. Damn him. “I’ll get on the horse.”

  Before she could change her mind, she hooked her foot in the stirrup and placed her hand in his. He tugged her up into the saddle in front of him with ease. As she settled into the saddle, he gave the horse a swift kick, and within seconds, they were racing up the mountainside.

  Maybe she was stupid, reckless, careless even, to trust him. But if what Wes had said was true, she had bigger problems than the infuriating wolf at her back.

  Chapter 5

  She should have stayed inside and called the Defenders of Wildlife.

  That thought plagued Naomi as they rode up the mountainside, the freezing wind whipping past them amid the hoots of nearby owls and the rustling of the surrounding forest. Nothing but the moon lit their path. They’d been riding since midafternoon, but with Black Jack carrying the weight of both of them up the mountainside, the horse had slowed down spitefully, grumbling and huffing every few steps in protest. He’d already tried to buck them off—several times. She was beginning to understand why Wes called him an “ornery bastard.”

  She rested her weight further onto the horse. If she had a dollar for every “should have,” she would have enough money to improve the ranch’s dismal finances—without the investors she had been courting.

  “You can go to sleep if you’re tired.” Wes’s deep voice thundered through her, wrapping around her like warm velvet. It was the first time he’d spoken since dark had descended. His voice was the kind women longed to hear on the other side of a late-night phone call.

  Her body ached from her initial fight against him and subsequent escape yesterday, compounded by sleeping on the cold, hard floor of the stable and the pounding headache that had started shortly after she awakened and wouldn’t relent. It had eased some after Wes had stopped and hunted down a hare they’d roasted over a small fire he’d built, and they’d refilled their canteens in a nearby stream. She was thankful there was food and drink in her belly, but that was the only thing she’d eaten all day.

  Between the slow, steady sway of the horse beneath her, her aches and pains, and the pervasive cold, she struggled to keep her eyelids open. A sleepy escape from the stress of her situation sounded like sweet
relief.

  Despite the cold at her front, the wolf-man behind her radiated heat as if she were snuggled next to a glowing fire. A very hard, half-naked glowing fire. The thought of his bare chest pressed at her back heated her face.

  There was nothing her weary body wanted more than to curl up into the warmth at her back, but after their run-in with the other wolf last night and the threat of vampires, she wasn’t chancing sleep in this forest, whether Wes watched over her or not. She attempted to distract herself.

  Warm-blooded like the true Canis lupus irremotus, she noted. But unusually warm, suggestive of an extremely high-needs predatory metabolism. Mammals needed to feed often and heartily, unlike cold-blooded species. What fueled that metabolism? His reference earlier to his flock had indicated his diet remained consistent with that of a grey wolf, but would it be rude to ask?

  “Not much farther,” he said.

  Suddenly, without command, Black Jack increased his gait to a speedy canter as if in the last dash of a long race just before the finish line. The shift in speed caught Naomi off guard, and she slipped from the saddle. She let out a terrified squeak, anticipating the impact with the ground.

  Wes caught her midfall. With deft precision, he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her in to him until her bottom pushed between his thighs and her back fell flush against his chest, tucking her closer in to the heat of his body. Not too close for comfort, but far too comfortable for her liking. And if the sight of him nude in the darkness hadn’t been enough indication, the hardened length now pushing between her ass cheeks suggested the males among his species were…blessed.

  At least he was.

  He wasn’t beautiful in the traditional sense, more ruggedly masculine. Rough around the edges. But he had the animal reflexes of a cat. Or a wolf. And between his legs, he resembled more of a…

  “…horse,” he said, finishing her thought.

  “W-what?” she sputtered. If it hadn’t been for his warm grip on her, she might have fallen off the saddle again in the sudden fear that maybe he could read minds.

  “A rancher who doesn’t know how to ride a horse,” he grumbled.

  She felt him behind her, shaking his head with disbelief. The warmth of his breath hovered just above the top of her head.

  She frowned and gripped the horse’s hearty body to steady herself. She raised her voice over the wind. “I don’t usually ride this long up a mountainside without a break.”

  Having learned to ride western style long before she had started grade school, she knew she was an excellent horsewoman. Sure, it wouldn’t have been the first time she had fallen ass over teakettle off a horse, but she wouldn’t admit it. Not to him.

  She gripped the sides of the horse’s large neck, hoping her steadied position would prompt Wes to release her. But the grip of his arm around her waist held firm with a steady, unyielding strength.

  They continued at a quickened pace for several minutes. When they broke through the tree line, he nudged the sides of their horse, and they picked up further speed as they bounded toward a steep ridge.

  When they crested the top, Naomi gasped.

  A dip in the landscape led down into the foothills of the Beartooth Mountains. The ranchland revealed through the trees stretched for miles. From this vantage point, she noted a small, isolated village in the distance. A development of log cabins spread over the vast plain, centered around what looked like a massive fortress, complete with stables, a barn, and several other buildings.

  Her mouth fell open in disbelief. The encampment was isolated enough by the sheer size of the landmass that the packmembers lived within plain sight. The lights from several of the cabins glittered in the darkness as if some sort of magic hung in the air.

  “What is this place?” She breathed out the words on her exhale.

  “Welcome to Wolf Pack Run.” Wes slapped the horse on its behind, and it raced down the incline toward the village. The wind whipped through Naomi’s hair.

  Pack…

  Her eyes widened, the word resonating within her. Of course. Wolves were pack animals. She knew this, and he’d mentioned his pack before, but the reality of encountering more than one of his kind twisted her stomach even as fascination gripped her.

  Black Jack steered down a slope in the incline and along a path that appeared to be a back route into the village. They didn’t encounter anyone…or anything for that matter, for which Naomi was grateful. From his clear alertness despite the late-night hour, she’d ascertained that Wes was likely nocturnal, either by habit or by nature. With this clearly being his pack’s home, there had to be others like him roaming the night. The list of questions in her head abounded, but she remained quiet.

  When they finally reached the fortress at the center of the complex, Wes dismounted. Naomi followed suit, thankful to feel her feet hit the ground. Pleased to have their weight off his back, Black Jack gave a happy, playful buck on his hind legs before he trotted off. Where to, she didn’t know, but Wes seemed unconcerned by the horse’s independent behavior.

  Wes led her through the back doors of the lodge and then guided her down a few wood-paneled hallways until they reached another door. Pulling a ring of keys from his jeans, he unlocked it and ushered her inside.

  As the door slammed shut behind her, Naomi took in the immaculate apartment. Mahogany furniture and kitchen cabinets with black-and-blue labradorite countertops. The open floor plan revealed a well-stocked kitchen, leading into an open living-room space with modern black leather furniture. Across the room was the door to the adjacent bedroom. The skull of a bull, hung on a nearby wall beneath a dried bull’s hide, gave the place a touch of western appeal amid the modern decor.

  Wes dropped his keys on the countertop. They hit the stone with a clatter that made Naomi jump. Turning toward her, he leaned onto the back of the couch, crossing his arms over his chest and studying her before he crossed the apartment to open the bedroom door.

  She eased inside. A California king bed frame built of cedar sat in the center, its mattress covered by a mountain-patterned comforter and sheets. A matching side table and dresser completed the furnishings. The room struck her as bare, somewhat empty of the signs of life found in someone’s well-loved home. But for the time being, the bed was the most beautiful sight she’d ever laid eyes on.

  “You can sleep here for now.”

  He stood on the opposite side of the bed frame. Both their gazes fell to the large expanse of mattress between them. An awkward tension hung in the air, considering the closeness they’d shared the previous night.

  “I’ll give you the bedroom and take the couch until Maverick returns and decides how we’ll address your vampire problem,” Wes clarified. “In the meantime, our medic will want to dig your shotgun pellet out of my shoulder.”

  She grimaced. “Sorry about that.”

  He smirked. “Not the roughest kind of foreplay I’ve had.”

  That sexy grin scorched her from the inside out.

  Oh. My.

  “Not that Grey Wolves and humans can mate. Pack law strictly forbids it,” he added. He shook his head as if he wasn’t certain why he’d shared that last bit. “Get some rest.” Without another word, he closed the door.

  For a moment, she lingered, staring at the door. Though she knew she was safe from the Wild Eight and the vampires here, or so she hoped, the nauseous pit in her stomach deepened. Her knees shook, threatening to collapse beneath her. It was the first time she’d truly felt alone with herself, her thoughts, and every one of her fears since she’d met him—and all of those tumultuous emotions crashed over her. The comfort of the bed called to her. She climbed onto it and collapsed into the warm embrace of the sheets. Wrapping herself up in the childlike safety of the blankets, she finally allowed tears to fall down her cheeks.

  She would allow herself this moment of weakness, because she wasn’t we
ak. She had never been weak. She was a fighter. Tonight, she would cry. Tonight, she would be angry.

  And tomorrow, she would help Wes save her ranch and destroy the monsters who had done this to her.

  * * *

  “This’ll hurt.”

  Wes hissed as Austin poured a large splash of whiskey over his shoulder. The blood from the fresh wound mixed with the fiery liquid, forming a sticky mixture that clung to his pectoral muscles. The gashes in his forearm had healed clean, but Austin had needed to use his scalpel to cut through the healed tissue of Wes’s shoulder. The Grey Wolf medic had just finished removing the wayward pellet.

  “Did you forget your antiseptic out in the barn?” Wes asked through gritted teeth. When he’d called Austin in to help tend his wounds, the medic had been out at the chute, catching the cattle during the head count to vaccinate them. The pain in Wes’s shoulder throbbed in a steady rhythm. The initial wound had been bad enough, but then he’d carried that all-too-attractive rancher up the mountainside to Black Jack while she’d been passed out, sending the shell deeper into the flesh of his shoulder. It’s not as if she weighed all that much, but the searing pain had wrenched through his limbs and down his torso nevertheless.

  “I reckoned you’d need it.” Austin passed him the bottle. His thick Texas drawl lengthened all the vowels in his slow, steady speech.

  Wes grabbed the whiskey bottle by the neck and chugged. The smoky, fiery drink burned down his throat, drowning out the pain for a moment. He took another swig.

  With his free hand, he gripped the edge of the kitchen countertop where he sat. Right now, he and Austin were the only packmembers inside his apartment, but considering the human woman lying passed out on his bed, that wouldn’t be the case for long. Word spread fast through the pack. The only bigger gossips in these mountains than little, old granny quilting groups in Billings were his packmates.

  Wes watched as Austin threaded a medical needle. The recessed lighting in the kitchen was reflected in Austin’s dark curls and glinted off the needle as he concentrated. A moment later, that needle was grazing Wes’s skin.