See, he belongs here. With us.
The realization brought an unexpected echo of the devastating pain she'd felt when Ryan's death severed their mating bond.
Don't panic. This is just a fling, Margaret told herself firmly. I'm not going to get so involved with Daniel that he'll break my heart when he leaves.
"Well, good morning, darlin'" Daniel greeted her, with a slow, smoldering smile. "Sleep okay?"
"Never better," Margaret assured him, and couldn't help returning his smile with one of her own. "Someone wore me out last night."
His smile turned wicked, his green cat's eyes gleaming. It took her breath away.
She hesitated, feeling oddly shy, then gathered up her determination, walked around her island, and rose up on her tip-toes to kiss him.
He caught her around the waist with one sinewy arm, returning the kiss with interest. Then he reached out with his free arm, and deftly pulled the pan with the bacon off the burner before wrapping her in his embrace and giving the kiss his undivided attention.
"Any chance you'll give me the chance to wear you out again tonight?" Daniel asked, when he finally raised his lips from hers.
Margaret's heart was pounding and heat had spread through her entire body, pooling between her legs. She felt breathless, and was pleased to note that Daniel's cheeks looked a little flushed, and a certain part of him further south had developed a hard bulge that pressed against her belly.
"I'd say that there was a pretty good chance." She raised her hand and stroked his cheek. "Last night...well, that was one of the best dinners I've ever had. And the dessert was outstanding. Thank you."
He grinned down at her, and she could swear that his flush deepened a little. "Darlin', it was my pleasure," he drawled. "In more ways than one."
I love it when he calls me darlin' with that drawl of his. A mixture of anticipation and sheer happiness rose like champagne bubbles from her chest. Tonight!
Then she remembered what day it was. Crap. I almost forgot about Sunday dinner.
"We're going to have company tonight," she reminded him. "But maybe later...?"
"It's a date," he assured her, and bent to give another kiss, a quick brush of his lips that left her lips tingling. "Now, if you'd be kind enough to set the table, I'll get these omelets going. All this okay with you?"
Daniel gestured at the counter, where a row of bowls stood in a neat line, holding finely diced bell peppers and onions, grated cheese, sliced mushrooms, and chopped ham.
"You're spoiling me," she told him.
"I enjoy spoiling beautiful women," he replied, putting a large pat of butter in a skillet that had been warming on the burner next to the bacon. "Let me pour you some coffee, beautiful."
A short time later, Daniel and Margaret sat down to enjoy his breakfast. In addition to the omelets, he'd discovered a stash of frozen huckleberries that she had picked on a summer hike, and cooked a warm compote to serve over scratch-made Belgian waffles with lightly-sweetened whipped cream.
Margaret chewed and swallowed her first mouthful, and found her eyes closing in bliss.
"Daniel, if Eddy Ornelas doesn't hire you, I will," she said. "I'm sure I could talk Elle into offering the ranch's paying guests breakfast and dinner, like they do at those fancy resorts in Europe."
"I'm flattered," he said, smiling. "But speaking of Eddy Ornelas, what kind of person is he? He seemed a little...curt when I called him yesterday."
"Oh, don't worry about that," Margaret assured him, cutting into her omelet with the side of her fork. "Eddy hates talking on the phone, which is funny, considering that he's in the hospitality industry. He usually has his niece Ariela handle calls." She took a bite of the omelet.
"Oh my goodness, that's delicious," she said, and was rewarded with another smile. "So, let me see. Eddy was thrilled to hear that you were in town and looking for work. What else...? Well, the Ornelas family are shifters. Jaguars. They've been here for a long time—Eddy's grandfather arrived from Mexico sometime in the 1920s. Eddy is one of those guys who can seem gruff and scary on the outside, but he's really a sweet, generous man, and he's given a lot to the community over the years. He does have a reputation for being a bit of recluse, but personally, I think he's maybe just a bit shy. Or an introvert."
"I see," Daniel said, looking thoughtful. He lifted his mug of coffee and took a sip. "What can you tell me about the Bearpaw Springs Resort?"
"It's this huge beautiful hotel, located at the main entrance to the national park, " Margaret said. "It was built in the early nineteen hundreds as a destination health resort for visitors who arrived by train to breathe clean air and soak in the hot springs. When the federal government created the national park right after the First World War, the Bearpaw Springs Resort became a really popular place to stay for anyone visiting the park. There used to be a rail line where the highway is now, and Bearpaw Springs had its own station. There's still a big spa on the premises, and lovely tiled pools for soaking in the hot springs. Oh, and whatever you do, don't joke about the place being haunted," she added, playfully. "It's a sensitive topic and Eddy gets very grumpy when people mention it."
Daniel looked startled. He paused, a forkful of omelet halfway to his mouth, and asked, "Is the hotel haunted?"
Margaret shrugged. "I have no idea, but I'm willing to keep an open mind." She felt her lips quirk into a smile. "After all, I have solid proof that there are quite a few people in this world who can turn into animals. If shifters are real, why not spirits?"
"I've never thought of it that way," Daniel admitted. "But you've got a point..." He shivered visibly. "My mémère—my grandmother—used to tell Pete and me stories about different kinds of spirits—fifolet, lutin, those sorts of things— whenever we visited her. And she lived in this big, creepy old house, too, and claimed that she'd seen some of those spirits herself while hunting in the bayou. I used to think that she was just trying to scare us into behaving, but now I wonder..." He let his voice trail off, then turned his attention back to his breakfast. "Anyhow, I'll keep your advice in mind and I won't mention ghosts or hauntings."
Margaret chuckled. "I'm pretty sure it won't come up during your interview."
They passed the rest of breakfast in pleasant conversation, with Margaret answering Daniel's questions about Bearpaw Ridge and its shifter population, as well as the town's relationship to the nearby national park.
As she spoke, she tried to quell her rising hope that maybe Daniel had changed his mind about just getting a job to tide him over until he could return to Albuquerque. Maybe he really did intend to settle down and stay here in Bearpaw Ridge.
Once Daniel's scrumptious breakfast had been reduced to a few crumbs of bacon and some smears of huckleberry compote and whipped cream, Margaret loaded her dishwasher and dried the pans that Daniel quickly washed. As much as she had enjoyed having him cook for her, what was really impressive was that he had left her kitchen sparkling-clean after each meal.
"I'm going to drive over to the main ranch house now, and rummage through Elle's basement freezers and aging room. Are you still interested in joining me?" she asked Daniel. She glanced at the clock. "I promise we'll be back here in plenty of time before you have to leave for your interview."
"I'd love to come with you," Daniel said, instantly. "And I'm looking forward to collaborating with you on a menu for tonight's family dinner." He grinned at her. "I want to make a good impression on the rest of the clan."
He reached for her hand.
As they walked hand-in-hand through her foyer, Margaret felt almost giddy with infatuation for the soft-spoken, handsome shifter at her side. At the same time, the strange feeling that she'd known him for years was only growing stronger.
He's going to break my heart if he leaves, she thought, as she closed her front door behind them.
So, find a way to make him stay, advised her bear.
* * *
When one of the ranch's big white pickup trucks rolled up to her hou
se, Margaret was out back, working in her vegetable garden.
After helping her select several smoked ducks, a large filet of beef, and several frozen steelhead from the stores in Elle's basement, Daniel had departed for his interview. The fish were currently sitting in Margaret's fridge—Daniel had assured her that they did not need to be fully thawed before he cooked them. The beef, which had been hanging in the basement's dry-aging room, was sitting next to the fish. And the ducks, which had been vacuum-sealed, were currently undergoing a quick-thaw in a sink full of cold water.
With Daniel's departure, her house felt empty and lonely, so Margaret had grabbed her gardening tools and a large wicker basket, and headed to her garden to harvest green beans, shallots, potatoes, radishes, and the last lettuce of the season in preparation for tonight's dinner. Luckily, the first frost of the season was still a couple of weeks away, and there were still abundant vegetables growing in the rows of raised wooden beds filled with rich dark compost.
The vegetable garden was surrounded by a neat perimeter line of heirloom apple, pear, plum, quince, cherry, and apricot trees, most of them starting to lose their leaves. They stood like gnarled soldiers on parade. A row of raspberry bushes lined a gravel path leading from the garden to the front of the house, and produced an abundant supply of delicious berries all summer long. Margaret and Elle spent the long days of summer harvesting fruit, cleaning and pitting it, and then processing it. They made all of the preserves served to the ranch's guests at breakfast, and also supplied Annabeth's bakery with the jams and jellies that she used to fill her cookies and cakes.
Margaret heard the truck park on the gravel drive in front of the house, followed by the sound of the door opening and the porch steps creaking.
"Mom? Are you home?" called her eldest daughter Kayla.
"Out back, dear," replied Margaret, not bothering to raise her voice. She knew Kayla would be able to hear her perfectly well.
Margaret circled one of the big raised vegetable beds to eye the remaining heads of lettuce. Looks like there are just enough to make that salad Daniel wanted.
A moment later, she heard the truck's passenger-side door open and close. Kayla's firm footsteps crunched on gravel...followed by two other sets of steps.
Margaret straightened up, holding a head of butter lettuce in her hand, and saw Kayla rounding the corner of the house, tailed by her younger sister Hannah and Margaret's nephew, Mark.
Her brows rose in surprise. "Why, hello there, my dears. To what do I owe this pleasure?"
Hannah suddenly looked uncomfortable, and shot Mark a nervous glance. His mouth was drawn into a grim line.
"We, uh, wanted to ask you about dinner tonight," Kayla said, and Margaret noticed that her daughter's tanned cheeks were flushed.
Kayla was still wearing her maroon veterinary overalls, with "Dr. Kayla Swanson" embroidered over her left breast. As she approached, Margaret smelled the ripe odor of cow manure wafting from her. Which meant that she'd come straight from an emergency call of some kind—animals and their illnesses did not respect weekends.
"We, uh, wanted to know," Kayla continued. "since Aunt Elle and Uncle Justin are out of town, do you want us to bring anything for dinner tonight? Do you want to make it a potluck?"
And you couldn't just send me a text message, like you usually do? Margaret thought. And you felt the need to bring your cousin and your little sister as backup? Hm.
"No, I think I have everything under control...or actually, Daniel does." She added in response to the astonished expressions on all three of her visitors: "He's a professional chef, a pretty famous one, actually, and he kindly volunteered to cook for us. I've been demoted to sous-chef for tonight, and I'm perfectly fine with that."
She smiled benignly at them, waiting for them to reveal the real reason for all three of them coming to see her. She thought she could guess, especially with Mark tagging along.
Hannah wouldn't meet her gaze. Her expression strained, she kept looking between Kayla and Mark.
"So," Mark said, slowly. "About this Daniel Langlais and his request for sanctuary—"
"And what's the story with that bunch of roses I saw him carrying?" interrupted Hannah. "Were they for you?"
She had apparently come straight from her shift at Annabeth's bakery, and her jeans and the sleeves of her top were dusted with flour. She smelled of butter and vanilla and cinnamon as usual, but underneath that, Margaret scented the sharp tang of worry.
"News travels fast," she said dryly. It always has, in this town.
"We know this Daniel person is interested in you," Kayla said, hotly. "Becky at the florists' place couldn't wait to tell me about the new guy in town who bought my mother a dozen roses!"
"And we just want to make sure that nothing bad happens," Hannah chimed in. Her flush deepened under Margaret's level stare, and she added hastily, "I mean, he seems nice enough, and he did help save someone's life yesterday...if he stays, I wonder if he'd be interested in volunteering for the fire—"
"Hannah," her sister said sharply. "Not helping!"
Kayla returned her attention to her mother, dark brows drawn over hazel eyes so like Ryan's. "But, seriously, Mom, what's the story with you and Daniel?"
"He and his nephew needed a safe place to stay." Margaret sighed. "And the roses were a really sweet gesture. What's wrong with that?"
"But he's a sabertooth shifter, Mom!" Hannah exclaimed. "And Dr. Nika said he arrived at the ranch all shot up!"
Margaret felt a spurt of anger when she heard that.
"I don't like where this conversation is going," Margaret told the three of them. "I had compelling reasons to grant Daniel and young Chris sanctuary here."
"But everyone knows that sabertooth shifters are trouble," Kayla protested.
Margaret carefully put down her basket and crossed her arms over her chest. "Are you telling me that you're opposed to Justin living here?"
"No, of course not! But Uncle Justin is different!" Kayla said defensively.
"And how do you know that Daniel isn't like Justin?"
"Look, Mom. I'm sure Daniel's fine. And I'm glad that you two seem to have hit it off." But Kayla's body language betrayed that she wasn't the least bit happy about the situation. She continued, "Sure, I mean having one or two sabertooth shifters in Bearpaw Ridge is okay—as long as they're the right kind of sabertooths."
"The right kind," Margaret repeated slowly. "What, exactly, does that mean?"
Chapter Nineteen – Concerned Parties
Kayla flushed a deep red and Hannah looked around the garden, clearly wishing she was somewhere else.
Mark spoke up. "The kind who blend in to our community like Justin." He shook his head. "Aunt Margaret, what happens if Daniel invites more of his pride here? He told us that they'd all been kicked out of their territory."
"He hasn't said anything about—" Margaret began.
But Mark was on a roll, and he talked right over her. "Do you really think that Mom—much less the Jacobsen pack—are going to accept a bunch of those guys just moving in? You know what kind of trouble they could bring with them."
Margaret began to protest, but he cut her off with a sharp gesture. "Look, I'm not prejudiced against all sabertooth shifters. Just these shifters. The Sandia Mountain Pride. You know, the same guys who brazenly invaded our ranch and tried to kill my mate? The ones who kidnapped Caitlyn's friends and tried to use them as hostages? Those shifters? And you're okay with shacking up with someone named Langlais here?"
She stared at him, shocked by the seething rage in his tone. It had been years since the events he referred to, but apparently Mark had neither forgotten nor forgiven.
"I think you've been spending too much time thinking about this," she told him. "You've somehow gone from Daniel and Chris requesting sanctuary to their entire pride relocating here. Unless you've heard something that I haven't?"
Margaret put her hands on her hips, and stared at him in challenge.
He gl
ared back for a long moment, then looked away. "No. I haven't heard anything. It's just a possibility that occurred to me after meeting Daniel yesterday, that's all."
Margaret looked at him coolly until he added in a grudging tone, "He seems like a decent guy."
"Thank you," Margaret said, tightly. "I thought the same thing, or I wouldn't have offered him sanctuary."
Kayla, who'd been listening with a tight expression, said, "I'm just worried about you, Mom. I mean, it's been years since you tried dating anyone, and now it seems that you've...you've fallen for this guy."
"I have not—" Margaret said, hotly, and knew instantly that her denial had been a mistake. She knew better than to try to lie to shifters, especially ones related to her.
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