by Haley Weir
“Follow the shifters the witches need for ingredients and we find them too.”
“And the Wendigo Spirit?” Sam asked. “How do we find him?”
“I don’t know yet, but I reckon one of the witches will talk if we capture one.”
Chapter Twelve
Silver Fox Ranch
Charlotte paced restlessly across the floor. She should have gone with Wesley. This was her fight as much as it was his. She knew Wesley was driven by his instinct to protect her from harm, but deep down, she feared that the power that continued to grow inside of her was the real threat. "Come home to me, Wesley," she whispered to the quiet of their bedchamber.
Hours went by with the speed of a tortoise, and Charlotte’s patience snapped.
She busied herself with scrubbing the pots and pans in the kitchens despite the protests from the servants and the housekeeper. It was much harder than it looked, but Charlotte had worked in her aunt’s inn long enough to know how to tend to the chores. Her back ached fiercely, and steaming water made her fingers tingle. They peeled and pruned as she scrubbed one iron pot after the other. And when the sun illuminated the hills once more, Caraline tended to the other washing. She cleaned and cleaned until her body was so sore, she could hardly move.
Charlotte raced through the house, cleaning one room after another.
She caught her reflection in the small mirror in the hall and grimaced. Her hair had tumbled from the pins and fell to her shoulders. There was a faint blush upon her cheeks and a few stains on her skin. She scoffed at her image and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. The servants gasped with shock each time she hauled a pail of water on her own.
Charlotte wanted to do the right thing and make her future husband the center of her world. Thinking about Wesley kept her from dwelling in the darkness. There were days when an image invaded her mind, making her wish she had never come out west, that she had simply endured the abuse she faced with Baxter. But she did not. She would not. And there was no way Charlotte could go back and change it. Charlotte could not risk angering Boone or ruining her one chance to live on the ranch.
Abigail appeared at the end of the hall just as Charlotte grabbed another bundle of linens. “You will work yourself to death if you keep at it like this.”
“Better than sitting still and listening to my own thoughts, Abbey. I need to keep busy. If not for my own sanity, then for the rest of you,” she chuckled. “I’m fine, honest.”
“The staff are uncomfortable…”
“Well, until I marry Wesley, I’m one of them. They need not be unsettled by my presence.”
Abigail walked with Charlotte, keeping her company as she went about her tasks. “I am terrified that one of them will return with an injury. Every time they go hunting for the Wendigo Spirit, someone gets hurt. I told Beth to make sure that they are careful, but I believe she may be just as reckless as they are.”
“We both know how quickly a simple plan can go wrong,” Charlotte replied. “I constantly wonder if all of us are doing the right thing.”
“It does seem quite strange that our destiny is to interfere in a war.”
“And if the other dark spirits meant to rise are worse than the Wendigo Spirit, I fear we may not be able to survive this. The odds are not in our favor, Abbey.”
“What happened to you?” Abigail asked as she turned to face Charlotte. “You were once so vibrant and hopeful. You urged me to believe in fate and love and romance...and now it is as though someone else is looking through your eyes.”
“I’ve seen what is at risk, Abbey. You could not imagine how horrible it is.”
If Boone said that she was unable to live on Silver Fox Ranch, then she saw no harm in leaving with Wesley. He wasn’t the sort to do much other than wander the untamed land of the west, but she would gladly follow. Charlotte was a little disappointed that his presence was as fleeting as the wind, but she also envied him in many ways. She dreamed of going wherever her heart desired, to explore and experience the world. Yes, her time with the witches had made her stronger, but Charlotte still saw herself as weak so long as she needed someone to look after her.
Charlotte returned to her chores with a stream of notes floating from between her lips.
When most of the washing had been completed, she walked through the house in search of something else to do. That was when Charlotte stumbled upon several holes in the wall that needed repairing. She smiled to herself and headed out to the barn where the men kept their tools. Charlotte waved down a young man named Eddie and asked for his assistance.
“Ya want to build a wall?” he asked as he scratched at his head.
“No, I want to repair a wall—or several in this case. I found holes in the study, upstairs corridor, Mr. Sam Cassady’s bedchamber, and what appears to be a storage room off the main hall. I’m sure I can manage on my own if you simply tell me what I may need.”
The young man seemed put off by her request. “Uhm...ladies ain’t supposed to do things like that. It’s a man’s job to take care of repairs and whatnot. You go on and write letters or sew and I’ll see to it, ma’am.”
Charlotte crossed her arms and tapped her foot in irritation. “I think not, Eddie. Would you say the same thing to Abigail or Beth?”
“Of course I would not,” he protested. “Miss Abbey is the doctor and Beth helps Mr. James when he goes out on the road. It would not make much sense to tell them not to.”
“But they are women doing a man’s job, and, in that way, we are no different.”
The lad sighed in defeat and handed Charlotte what she needed.
With her apron and her arms full of materials, Charlotte bounded up the stairs where she found the first hole. Little by little, she worked her way through the entire house as she repaired things that seemed broken or askew.
~*~
Wesley returned early from his hunt for the Wendigo Spirit.
The scent of something sweet mingled with wet paint, and he smiled to himself. In his hand was a bundle of flowers and a small box holding the ring he had purchased for Charlotte. He followed the beautiful hums flowing through the corridor and found her repairing a hole in the wall where it had gotten damaged by one of Sam’s outbursts. Charlotte was eager to prove her worth now that she was living on the ranch.
Her apron pockets were filled with pencils, paintbrushes, and a bunch of dirty rags. Charlotte stood at the center of the room in front of her handiwork, a paintbrush between her teeth and a streak of white paint upon her cheek. Wild waves framed her face. Wesley approached slowly, watching how her paint-smeared hand reached for another tool. “I’m sure Boone will be mighty pleased with that.”
The paintbrush dropped from her lips as she let out a shout.
Charlotte caught sight of him in the doorway and set her supplies down to greet him. She threw her arms around him, nearly crushing the flowers, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I missed you, Wesley! I had to wait so long for you to return. Things have been rather quiet around here.”
“I take it you were dying of boredom, then?” he chuckled.
“Well, I may have—”
Wesley tilted her head back and silenced her with a kiss. Her lips slanted over his as she came up onto the tips of her toes. She giggled happily as a crimson blush appeared on her cheeks, causing the white paint to stand out more. Charlotte pulled back and gave Wesley the most beautiful smile. He reached out and handed her the flowers, loving the way her eyes began to twinkle. His chest swelled with pride, for he had been the one to banish the shadows in her lovely gaze. “What do you think?”
“They’re beautiful. Thank you, Wesley.” Charlotte carried the flowers into their shared bedchamber and set them in a vase upon the vanity. Wesley plopped down in the chair situated in front of the window and motioned for her to join him. Charlotte sat across from him at the small table, and he slid the ring box over to her. “Oh my...what is this?”
“I told you that I wanted you as my wife, Charlo
tte. That means I do it the right way.”
“But we’ve already been intimate with one another.”
Wesley tried to keep the shock out of his expression as he regarded Charlotte. “I would never do something so foolish. Either we do this right, or we don’t do it at all. But I want there to be no secrets between us. I want to know what keeps you awake at night when you think I’ve fallen asleep. All of it, Charlotte. The good and the bad.”
She seemed uncomfortable, shifting in her chair until the tension finally subsided. “My family was very wealthy, Wesley. The sort of wealthy that makes a parent blind to their child’s suffering,” Charlotte began. “I was raised by my nanny and rarely ever saw my parents. Mother became distant after my brother died in the war. Father worked hard with his company and was hardly home before it was time for bed.”
“You had no one?”
“After a while, even the nanny stopped paying attention to me.” Her shoulders slumped forward. “Tutors came and went, my life went by in a blur of servants rushing to get away from me, and then my parents died. Their ship sank. Apparently, my father had attempted to better trade between this country and the islands of the Caribbean. The lawyers placed me in the care of Baxter Clearwater, my father’s associate.”
“At least you weren’t alone anymore, right?” Wesley kept his face impassive even as his hands clenched tightly into fists.
“Mr. Clearwater liked to imbibe. And when he drank, his anger was usually aimed in my direction, Wesley. I faced beatings long before being taken by Ethan and his witches,” she revealed. “It is, in my experience, that humans are just as wicked as the monsters we are told to fear. I’m not afraid of the magic anymore, and I’m not afraid of the creatures. The only thing that terrifies me is losing you, Wesley.”
“Then let's get married tomorrow. I’ll put off the search another day and we can get married. Please, Charlotte. I can’t go another day without you being mine.” Wesley stood up and loomed over her. He kissed her cheek, but Charlotte moved her head so that their lips brushed.
Oh, dear.
The heady look in his eyes was dangerous. Charlotte could tell he was up to no good when that lopsided grin curled into a breathtaking smile. Dimples winked at her and caused her mind to go blank for a few seconds. He lunged and kissed her cheek with a playful growl, causing her to squeal loudly and burst into a fit of giggles. Wesley pulled back with a cunning twinkle in his breathtaking gaze. Charlotte wrapped her arms around his neck and felt herself being lifted off of the chair. “Wesley…”
Wesley dipped his head low and pressed his lips against hers. Those warm, soft hands that had given her body pleasure rubbed soothing circles against her spine. Breathless gasps floated between their mouths. Wesley’s kiss was slow and succulent, but no less passionate than the ones they had shared in the throes of ecstasy. She slid her tongue against his and whimpered in the dark. Charlotte tasted love and desperation. “I need you, Wesley.”
She wrapped her legs around him, causing her skirts to bunch up. Charlotte inhaled sharply when she felt his hands stroke her bare thighs. Wesley walked her over to the bed and eclipsed her with his shadow. “Just this for now…” he whispered as he slotted between her legs. She felt the rigid length of his member as he rolled his hips. Charlotte’s body was filled with those delicious tingles she had felt when his fingers had touched her.
Chapter Thirteen
The lovely garment was fashioned out of lavender silk with a flattering silhouette, white lace trim, embroidered corset, and heart-shaped bodice. Her dress had a high neck and long sleeves for elegance as the delicate fabric draped over her figure nicely. The entire look was finished with a pair of gloves and a jeweled comb tucked neatly into her curled hair. Charlotte slipped into her mules and fastened her pearls.
Mary Ann, Beth, and Abigail joined her once more. Tears welled in Abigail’s eyes as she pulled Charlotte into a crushing embrace. “Come on. Let’s get you to the wedding!”
A long carriage ride into town felt as though it lasted for years.
The doors to the church opened with a clatter, and Charlotte stepped inside.
Her heart raced within the confines of her chest as she caught sight of Wesley talking with Jesse. Charlotte all but swallowed her tongue as she gripped Abigail’s hand one last time for courage. Charlotte knew then that she did not deserve him or the life that he offered her. So long, her love had been unrequited…and Charlotte did not deserve the scarred yet beautiful man that could shift into a wolf. He wasn’t a coward like Charlotte had been her entire life. He did not run from his problems or tremble in fear.
Wesley was strong.
Charlotte felt the tears fall from her eyes as he looked upon her with nothing but adoration. Though he had yet to say those three little words of admission, she knew he loved her, and that was all that mattered. His smile slid from his face, and he made his way over to her in three loping strides. Charlotte did not fight back when she was hoisted up against his chest.
The congregation gasped as she tangled her arms around his neck and met his kiss halfway. Beth, Jesse, and a few of the ranch hands cheered them on. Charlotte blushed furiously as Wesley set her back on her feet without breaking the kiss. He used his thumb to wipe her tears away and winked playfully.
She grew more flustered by the second and tried to flatten the lapels of his jacket where they had crumpled. Beth and Jesse were forced to pull Wesley away as he stared down at Charlotte as though he intended to devour her whole. Charlotte saw the heat and desire in his eyes once more. “You look beautiful,” he breathed.
“Thank you,” Charlotte whispered shyly. “But I believe the preacher is getting impatient, Wesley. Perhaps we should wait until after we are married.”
Jesse whipped out a handkerchief and tossed it at Wesley. “Can’t you behave like a real person instead of some sort of animal,” the cheeky cowboy snickered. “Next time, don’t try to eat your bride's face off before she makes it down the aisle.”
“Preferably without an audience,” Beth snorted, and a strange look passed between her and Jesse. Wesley hadn’t caught the glance as he chuckled at Beth’s ridiculous joke. The two of them had spent far too many hours in the saddle together.
But Wesley returned to his place beside the altar, and the preacher gave him a very disgruntled look. He straightened but did not flinch beneath the penetrating gaze of the other man. Beth elbowed him in the side as Charlotte’s footfalls echoed through the silence of the church. Just seeing Wesley at the end of the aisle caused her chest to ache.
She wanted to run to him as he had done, but Charlotte feared embarrassing herself. Only the sound of wet sniffles remained as she came to stop beside her beloved Wesley.
~*~
Silver Fox Ranch
Despite the unspoken promise of rapturous lovemaking, Charlotte had spent several days curled up in bed as she came down with a cold. Though her breathing was no longer labored and her headaches had all but left entirely, Wesley had kept his distance. She did not blame him, of course, but she had wished to join him on his next search. Even when all of her symptoms had come to an end, Charlotte saw no reason to leave her bedchamber without Wesley.
Pale light streamed in through the windows as the first glimpses of dawn appeared behind the curtains. The shuffling sounds of a nearby chambermaid pulled Charlotte from her dreams. She attempted to curl beneath her feather down coverings one last time before the morning rituals began. No, not her things, but Wesley’s. His scent still clung to the pillows, and she blushed as she remembered what it had felt like when he touched her.
Charlotte grumbled and pulled herself out of the warmth of the bed and slid into her robe. She shuffled across the floor and contemplated the future. Part of her was thrilled to marry Wesley, and the other half was still unsure if they would live to see the days ahead. So much had unfolded since she arrived in Wolf Valley. It was only natural that she had started to question things. She wanted to marry Wesley...she wanted
to be his wife, his friend, and his partner, but there were things that terrified Charlotte about tying herself to a man.
Perhaps her fears were rooted in the dangers she had faced with Baxter.
The door to the room opened, and she saw Wesley for the first time in what felt like weeks, but had only been two days.
Charlotte felt the soft linens beneath her back. She watched with hungry eyes as Wesley draped his gun belt across the chair in their room and tore open the front of his shirt. Buttons popped off and bounced across the floor. White light streamed in through the windows as snow continued to fall. They could die tomorrow. If tonight was their last night together, then Charlotte wanted it to be special.
She lifted her hand to the side and started a fire with a slight flick of her wrist.
Charlotte’s magic grew stronger each day, something she suspected Wesley was aware of as he eyed her seductively. He removed his trousers, allowing them to pool around his ankles before he kicked them aside and crawled over her on the bed. She scooted back on her hands until she reached the headboard. Charlotte trembled beneath his touch as he traced a line along her navel. Desire coursed through her veins, and she bucked her hips.
She was seconds away from begging him to touch her. Anywhere.
“Let me see you, Charlotte,” he whispered.
Her head bobbed as her fingers worked open the ties of her robe. He watched her intently, and his breath cascaded over her skin, leaving chill bumps behind as he moved down her belly. He peppered kisses around each and every scar before swiping them with his tongue. Wesley’s lips moved to hers, and he drank in her startled cry as his fingers dipped between her folds. She gasped against his lips, and the robe fell open.
She blushed as her body wept at his touch.
Wesley groaned and Charlotte felt as though she were floating in the clouds. Her skin became hot and flushed, eager for his touch.
