Hard Landing

by Ophelia Sexton

  "Yeah, that’s what I figured," Lopez said. "Ms. Hernandez, if you tell me where you're located, I'll contact the nearest ranger station to send a truck your way. We'll have Jensen off your hands in a jiffy."

  Carl's wolf began howling in protest. Loudly.

  "Okay." Michelle took a deep breath, which did delightful things to the front of her t-shirt. She began to describe her location in relation to the nearest town and road.

  With the racket inside his skull, Carl's headache returned in fiery red bursts like fireworks of pain.

  It was all he could do not to clutch his head in agony. But his pride wouldn't let him show more weakness than he already had, not in front of the woman he hoped to win for his mate—

  Wait, what? No! No mate! he snarled at his wolf. And will you PLEASE shut the fuck up?

  It ignored him and kept right on howling.

  What the hell was going on with his beast? The only time it had ever kicked up a fuss like this before had been during his very first parachute jump during smokejumper training.

  Back then, Carl had managed to override its objections to what it saw as a suicidal leap, and successfully complete the jump.

  When Michelle had finished speaking, Lopez said, "Hold on. I'm going to contact Dispatch and pass that along."

  A few moments of silence passed as they waited.

  Still keeping her distance, Michelle leaned her hip against a wide, gray-stained dresser that looked like it belonged in an upscale city apartment rather than in this rustic-looking room with pinewood paneling and a beamed ceiling.

  Carl wasn't up to making small talk, not with his wolf howling as forlornly and persistently as if a pack member had just died.

  Michelle said in an apologetic tone, not meeting his eyes, "I didn't mean to just dump you here and leave you alone, but I had to go retrieve my livestock and make sure that my brother was repairing the broken fence."

  He noticed that she carefully avoided any mention of having shot a wolf. Once again, he wondered whether she had seen him shift. That might account for the tense, wary way she was looking at him.

  Or maybe she just wasn't used to having strangers fall out of the sky.

  It bothered him that he couldn't remember anything after hearing the crack of the rifle.

  At least she didn't leave me lying, wounded and unconscious, in that meadow. He wondered how she had managed to get him from out there to her home by herself.

  "Hey, no worries," he assured her, doing his damnedest to sound completely normal despite his wolf-caused migraine. "I know how it is—your animals should always come first."

  That seemed to have been the right thing to say.

  She looked relieved. "Yeah. But I made sure you were okay before I left you," she said. "And you weren't bleeding too badly, so I cleaned and bandaged your leg before I headed back up to the meadow to round up my flock."

  "It was a pleasant surprise to wake up in a bed instead of under a bush somewhere," he said. "Thank you."

  Another blush stained her cheeks. "I have to tell you something," she said.

  She finally met his eyes, and he saw guilt and anguish in them.

  Carl came alert. Is she going to tell me that she saw me shift?

  He braced himself for a potentially tricky conversation. Sure, he'd been around Ordinaries who knew he was a shifter, but they'd all been carefully vetted, and he hadn't been the one to spill the beans.

  This particular Ordinary, no matter how lovely and appealing she was to his wolf, was a stranger. He had no idea how she might take the news that shifters weren't just the stuff of fairy tales and Hollywood movies.

  Outside, the rain began to fall with a heavy pattering sound against the roof, followed by the drip and rush of water through the gutters.

  Then his radio crackled to life.

  Michelle thrust the radio at him.

  "Hey, Howler," Lopez said. "Change of plans on the evac. The guys at the ranger station said that heavy rains have triggered a series of massive landslides in your neck of the woods."

  At this news, Carl's wolf abruptly stopped howling. Its tantrum gave way to alert interest. The sudden peace was a balm to Carl's aching head.

  Lopez continued, "The highway's been shut down and so has the road leading from your location to the highway. Right now, there's no word on how long it'll take CDOT to clean up and reopen the affected roads." He paused. "If there's a clear spot, a pasture or something, on the ranch, I could dispatch helitack to come get you. Over."

  Michelle's eyes widened, but he couldn't tell from her expression whether she was surprised or relieved.

  Then Carl's wolf managed to do the unexpected. It ambushed his human half and took control.

  To Carl's horror, he heard himself say, "Not necessary. I'll just stay put here for a few days while I heal up. Over." He released the Transmit button.

  Michelle gasped and pushed herself upright. She looked incredulous. "What?" she demanded.

  "You sure about that, Howler?" Lopez asked at the same time.

  "Hey, it's warm and dry, and I've got a hot chick taking care of me," the wolf said, continuing to control Carl's mouth. "I'll check in again when the roads reopen. Over."

  Lopez chuckled. "Hot chick, huh? Well, based on the meteorologist's report, it looks like there are more storms coming on the heels on this one. We might even see some snow. Take all the time you need, because it looks like fire season might be over early this year. Out."

  "What the hell?" Michelle demanded, her tone and expression both furious. "You can't stay here!"

  Chapter 6

  Striking a Deal

  "You're stuck with me, sorry." The tall, golden-haired firefighter sitting on Michelle's bed didn't sound the least bit sorry. He studied her with a predator's intensity.

  Wait, he's not leaving? Unable to believe her ears, Michelle glared back at him.

  "Are you crazy?" she demanded. "I saw your leg! You need stitches. And a doctor. A hospital. Call your guy back right now and tell him to send that helicopter!"

  "Nope." Carl tossed his radio up and down in his hand, catching it unerringly each time without looking at it. He smiled at her, a sexy, dangerous smile that kindled a different kind of warmth under the heat of her annoyance. "I don't need a hospital, just a few days to rest up and sleep."

  "But—" she began to protest.

  "Let's make a deal," he interrupted her. "If you let me stay here until my leg's healed up, I won't tell anyone you shot me."

  His words sent an icy spear of shock through her guts. He knows!

  She stared at him, her heart pounding with sudden terror.

  "I—" A torrent of excuses and explanations jammed up in her throat choking her.

  "Why did you shoot me?" he asked, still tossing the radio. His gaze pinned her like a deer in the headlights. "You don't seem like the trigger-happy kind."

  "I'm not," she managed. "I—I don’t know what happened! I must have been hallucinating!"

  "Oh?"

  "Well…I, ah…" she began and came to a halt.

  He's going to think I'm crazy. Heck, I'm beginning to think that myself!

  Carl waited for her to continue speaking. She didn't even know where to start, so she shook her head.

  "It's okay," he said, his tone gentle. "I'm not angry. I just want to understand what happened."

  "Something broke down my fence last night, and my goats got out. I was in the forest, tracking them. Then Cookie and Biscuit—those are my dogs—went nuts."

  Carl nodded. "They seem like good dogs. Very attentive."

  She looked at the pair of them. Interestingly, her dogs, which usually seized on any chance to jump up on her bed, currently refused to set foot inside her bedroom. They stood at the door now, never taking their eyes off the man sitting on her bed.

  They had been parked right outside her bedroom door when she had returned from rounding up her little herd, who had eaten their fill of high country grass and were ready to follow her back
to their barn with the added incentive of a treat bucket filled with Cheerios in the back of her Kubota.

  She continued, "I thought I saw a wolf trying to attack Alfred."

  "Alfred?" asked Carl.

  "He's one of my guard alpacas. They protect the goats from coyotes and foxes."

  "And wolves, too, apparently," Carl said dryly.

  Renewed guilt poured over her like fiery coals.

  "I know there aren't any wolves in this area!" she exclaimed. "I am so, so sorry. It was a horrible mistake, and I'm going to have nightmares about almost killing you!" She wrapped her arms tightly around her torso, hugging herself. "I don't know how I could have possibly made that mistake!"

  She remembered the moment when she thought she'd seen a wolf transforming into a beautiful naked man, and shuddered at the realization that she'd been a literal hair's breadth from becoming a murderer.

  Is this it? Is this the moment when he tells me that he wants to press charges?

  Afraid of what she might see in his expression now that she'd confessed, she looked away.

  Or worse yet, will he ask me for something else? He's already blackmailed me once. And with the roads closed, I'm trapped here with him.

  "So, you saw a wolf, shot it…and then you saw me?" Carl pressed.

  "I—I saw—" Michelle began, and stopped. I can't possibly tell him what I saw.

  "Let me guess: you saw the wolf change shape into a man. Me," Carl said.

  Michelle stared at him, but he didn't look like he was making fun of her. Instead, he looked as tense as she felt, as if he were worried about her reaction.

  Yeah, he's worried that he just marooned himself here with the loca chick.

  "Yes, but I must have been hallucinating. I'm sorry, really I am."

  "You weren't hallucinating." Carl's voice was so soft that she barely heard him.

  "I…what?" Of all the things that he had expected him to say, this hadn't been on the list. "What are you saying?"

  "That you really did see a wolf…and it was me."

  "But—" Okay, this is not where I was expecting this conversation to go, thought Michelle. Is he crazy too?

  Carl spread his hands. "Look, I wasn't attacking your llama—I mean, alpaca. In fact, it was attacking me."

  "But—" Michelle said again. The strands of this conversation were slithering out of her grasp like a handful of wet spaghetti. "Why were you a wolf?"

  "I was trying to get to my original jump point," he replied. "With my leg messed up, I figured my best chance of hiking over there was to do it on four feet…well, three feet." He gave her a hopeful smile and added, "You're not crazy, Michelle. And I'm not crazy either."

  She blinked at him, still digesting this revelation. "You—you're really a wolf? A werewolf?"

  Carl grimaced. "Ugh. Please. Those movies really gave us a bad rap, you know. I prefer to call myself a shapeshifter or wolf shifter."

  Wow. Mind blown. Michelle chewed on her lower lip. The only thing that came to mind was, "But it's not a full moon."

  "That part's just a fairy tale." Carl grinned at her and patted the bed next to him. "C'mon, have a seat. I know you have questions. I'll do my best to answer them."

  She eyed him, wondering whether it was really safe to get so close.

  As if reading her mind, he said, "I don't bite. Unless you want me to."

  "Glad to hear it," she said without thinking. "I wouldn't want to become a were—I mean, a shapeshifter."

  "That's not how it works," he assured her. "I was born a shapeshifter. All those stories about ordinary humans turning into shapeshifters after being bitten? They're just stories. It doesn't work that way."

  "Well, okay." She crossed the two steps separating them and sat down a cautious arm's length away from her unexpected guest. "So can you turn into a wolf whenever you want?"

  He nodded.

  "Cool. And you've been like this your entire life?"

  He nodded again. "I always knew I had a wolf spirit inside me, but I wasn't actually able to shapeshift until I turned thirteen."

  "Are you the only one? Like a mutant or something?" Too late, Michelle wondered if she'd just insulted him.

  Carl only grinned. "I prefer to think of myself more as a superhero than a mutant," he informed her. "And no, I'm not the only shapeshifter. There are quite a few of us. My family are all wolf shifters."

  Michelle shook her head. "I'm having a hard time believing that all this is real."

  "I can change back into my wolf shape, if you like," he said, sounding serious. "If you promise not to shoot me again." He reached for the hem of his t-shirt.

  "No, no, that's okay," she said hastily. Not that she would have minded seeing him naked again. He was a damned fine-looking man. "I just need some time to digest this."

  "I need to ask you a favor, Michelle. A really big one." His blue eyes bored into her with an intensity like he was peering into the depths of her soul.

  "You mean, a bigger favor than inviting yourself to stay at my place?" She tried to keep her tone light.

  He nodded. "I know it's a lot to ask, but don't tell anyone about shapeshifters or what you saw me do."

  She looked at him incredulously and opened her mouth to reply.

  Before she could say anything, he added, "Please. The safety of my family depends on people not believing that shapeshifters really exist."

  He reached out and touched her arm. Just a light pressure of his fingers, but she felt the same weird sense of a deep connection with him as before, when he'd held her hand.

  "Don't worry," she assured him. "Your secret is safe with me."

  "Really?" He looked surprised at her quick agreement.

  "Look, even if I wanted to tell anyone about this, who'd believe me?" She managed a smile. "They'd all ask me whether I'd found any good mushrooms growing on the ranch."

  He let out a long breath, and tension drained from his body. "Thank you."

  She waved off his thanks as another rumble of thunder shook the house. "Damn. I need to go help Beto fix that fence before the rain gets any worse."

  "I can help—" Carl looked like he was ready to stand up and follow her out the door.

  Michelle scrambled to her feet. She put her hands on her hips and glared down at him. "You've gotten in enough trouble for today. Stay here. I'll be back soon."

  She strode out of the bedroom and headed for the front door, pausing to grab her raincoat and boots.

  As if she didn't already have enough to deal with, now she was stuck with a house guest for God only knew how long.

  And he's an honest to God werewolf. How the hell did I get myself into this mess?

  Chapter 7

  Good Enough to Eat

  "Why can’t this wait until it stops raining? We could do this tomorrow!" Beto complained as he lifted a muddy, dripping panel of woven-wire fencing from the ground.

  It was four feet by four feet, made from heavy-gauge wire, and topped with several strands of barbed wire. It had been designed not only to keep predators out but to keep goats, who had a reputation for being the Houdinis of livestock, from escaping their pasture.

  Michelle shot her little brother an irritated glance.

  At eighteen, he was a head taller than she was. A summer spent helping her on the ranch had packed on some serious muscle, and he'd grown into a handsome young man.

  You'd think my manito was all grown up…until he opens his mouth and sounds just like a whiny teenager.

  When she had bought this property after her divorce, her plan had been to live in blissful solitude, a complete change of scene from the disaster that had been her marriage.

  Finding those texts and emails between Austin and their next-door neighbor Courtney had been the last straw in a relationship already worn paper-thin.

  Before her grandmother passed away, Michelle had been working overtime for years, trying to keep everything together, while he couldn't be bothered to do anything at all, not even hold down a steady jo
b.

  Austin's perpetually unemployed ass had been happy to stay in their basement all day, playing video games and sexting fricking Courtney, she recalled bitterly as she hammered nails into the fencepost. He had never helped with anything around the house, even when she was working sixty-hour weeks to pay their bills.