* * *
Dinner was an unqualified success. In addition to the expanded dining room and breakfast nook tables, a large folding picnic table and chairs had been hauled up from the basement and set up next to the dining room table, extending out through the large cased opening into the living room. It had been draped with one of the big damask linen tablecloths that Margaret had inherited from her great-grandmother, and set with the spare china that Margaret kept in the basement, because she had never expected that she would ever need that many dishes.
After the duck appetizers had been gobbled up, and the salads devoured, Ash emerged from the kitchen carrying a huge platter of perfectly-roasted filet of beef, neatly sliced. The fried fish followed, and then the side dishes, before Ash seated himself and everyone dug in with appreciative murmurs.
Margaret savored every mouthful of the amazing food as the conversations fell silent all around her. The volume even dropped at the kids' table in the breakfast nook.
When second helpings had been reduced to a few smears of mashed potatoes and bits of browned almond on plates, and the platters stood empty in the middle of the tables, a swarm of kids descended on the dining room and quickly cleared away the dishes.
A few minutes of clattering and running water from the kitchen followed, and then Daniel issued a set of low-voiced instructions.
Chris appeared in the dining room. "Uncle Dan wants to know if anyone wants tea instead of coffee," he said loudly.
He counted hands, and vanished back into the kitchen.
Daniel appeared in the dining room ten minutes later, looking calm and confident and fresh, as if he hadn't just spent several hours preparing a massive meal for a houseful of hungry shifters and their Ordinary mates.
"I've set out the desserts as a buffet on the island, if you don't mind helping yourselves," he began. "Annabeth made most of them, but I baked up a bread pudding with a side of warm bourbon cream sauce for the adults, and vanilla cream sauce for the kids. It was my grandmother's recipe."
Dane rose smoothly to his feet. "That was one of the best meals I've ever had," he said, and began applauding.
Everyone in the dining room enthusiastically followed his lead, giving Daniel a standing ovation.
He looked momentarily taken aback by the response, his cheeks flushing. Then he bowed slightly. "Thanks, everyone. Two days ago, my nephew and I really needed a helping hand, and your family provided it." His green eyes sought and found Margaret's. "I know I can never repay the debt I owe the Swanson clan. Cooking for you was the least I could do to express my gratitude for the warm welcome that Chris and I have found here." He bowed again, and gestured towards the kitchen. "Please, enjoy the desserts."
Margaret had saved a seat for Daniel at the main table. He joined the rest of the adults there for dessert, carrying a plate loaded with a selection of Annabeth's pies and cookies, and seated himself next to her.
For her part, Margaret had served herself a helping of his bread pudding accompanied by a lightly spiced poached pear from her garden. She wondered when Daniel had found time to poach pears.
She took a forkful of the bread pudding, scented with vanilla and bourbon, and moaned in pleasure. She had never been crazy about the dense, soggy bread puddings she'd eaten elsewhere, but Daniel's version was divine, airy and crispy.
"I'm so glad you like it," Daniel murmured.
"I loved everything tonight," Margaret told him.
On her other side, Mark leaned forward to address Daniel around her.
"Hey, so," said her nephew in an elaborately casual tone that raised alarm bells, "When we met yesterday, I didn't have the chance to ask you something. Are you any relation to Pete Langlais?"
Oh crap, thought Margaret. And braced herself.
Chapter Twenty-Three – Volunteer Spirit
It was only a matter of time before someone asked me that damn question, Daniel thought. He'd been waiting for it all night.
Looking at the fierce expression on Mark's face, he was pretty sure he knew who had kicked Pete's ass all those years ago.
"Pete's my younger brother." Daniel tried to keep his tone matter-of-fact, but his insides knotted up. He wished he knew more about bear shifter politics.
Can this guy and his brothers override Margaret's offer of sanctuary?
"What?" exclaimed the blonde seated at Mark's left. She stiffened in shock and went pale under her carefully-applied makeup.
He groaned silently. Shit. She must be the journalist that Pete was sent here to kill. Shit, shit, shit.
He'd only seen Caitlyn Roberts once, when she had testified at Pete's trial. At that time, he hadn't gotten close enough to her to catch her scent. Until a moment ago, the happy, confident woman at Mark's side had looked very different from the tense, terrified woman on the witness stand all those years ago, which is why Daniel hadn't recognized her.
"I'm sorry, Ms. Roberts. We can't pick our relatives," Daniel said, which was his standard response whenever the topic of his relationship to Pete came up. "Or should I call you Mrs. Swanson?"
Mark's face darkened with anger. "Pete Langlais' brother. I can't believe you'd dare to come here, of all places! There are children here on the ranch."
"Yes, and Chris is one of them," Daniel said. He knew he was screwed, but he still had to try. For Chris's sake. "Bearpaw Ridge was the only place I could think of where my nephew would be safe from the people trying to kill him."
Daniel noticed that both tables in the dining room had fallen completely silent. Everyone's attention was focused on Mark...and on him. The only noise came from the buzz of conversation at the kids' table back in the breakfast nook.
Mark's lips tightened under his beard. He addressed Margaret.
"I can't believe this," he said, his voice low and rough. "If it had been up to me—"
Margaret drew herself up, her cheeks flushed and her mouth tight.
"Well, I'm glad that it wasn't up to you," she snapped, in a hard voice that Daniel hadn't heard from her before. "Of course I agreed that we should grant that poor boy sanctuary on our clan lands." She paused to glare at everyone at the table before adding, "And honestly, Mark, I'm amazed that you're questioning whether we should protect a child."
Mark scowled, and jerked his chin in Daniel's direction "I'm not talking about Chris. It's him we're worried about. He's Pete Langlais' brother. What if his entire family shows up here?" He put a protective arm around Caitlyn. "Everyone knows that the Sandia Mountain Pride are a nothing but a bunch of thugs. I won't have it."
Daniel thought about gentle Lizbeth and the others, and bit back an angry retort. Mark didn't know better. He'd only met Philippe Bertrand and his gang.
"Um," Caitlyn addressed Daniel. She sounding nervous. "Your brother didn't get paroled or anything, did he? He's not coming here?"
Daniel shook his head. "He's still in maximum security, and isolated from the rest of the general population because he's a former police officer."
"Good," growled Mark.
Daniel hadn't seen a bear shifter in full-on protective mode before. It was...intimidating, even when the shifter in question was still in his human shape. I can believe that Mark nearly killed Pete for attacking Caitlyn.
"Oh, good," echoed Caitlyn. "I was worried."
Daniel felt compelled to add, "My brother will be eligible for parole next year, though."
"He used his status as a fellow police officer to trick me into giving up some important information," Mary Jacobsen Swanson chimed in, her tone bitter. She was a tall, attractive wolf shifter who had introduced herself to Daniel earlier as the town's sheriff. "If he ever shows his face around here again, I'll kick his ass."
"I'm sure you will, dear, but it's unfair of you to hold all that against Daniel," Margaret said. "Just because his brother is a screw-up doesn't mean that Daniel has done anything wrong. He's a decent man trying to do the best he can to raise his nephew."
She's defending me to her family! Daniel hadn't exp
ected that, and it gave him a warm glow. At the same time, he worried that his presence here was going to drive a wedge between Margaret and the rest of her family. He didn't want to do anything to cause her unhappiness.
"Well, Mom and Justin aren't going to be happy when they hear about this," Mark said.
Margaret snorted. "They already know. Elle's fine with it. She trusts my judgment." Her unspoken addendum, even if you don't, hung heavily in the air.
Mark set his jaw in a mulish expression.
"Well, I just hope you know what you're doing, Aunt Margaret," he said, in an offensively condescending tone.
Daniel saw Margaret's flush darken, and her normally-warm eyes acquired an icy glitter. Uh-oh.
"Mark Edward Swanson," she said very softly. "Are you questioning my authority as acting clan head?"
The temperature in the dining room suddenly felt like it dropped at least twenty degrees. No one else sitting around the table dared to breathe, and that included Daniel.
Mark's hazel eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to say something.
"Dude," whispered Ash urgently. "What's the first law of holes?"
Mark scowled.
"Stop digging," Caitlyn answered, also in a whisper. She laid her hand on her mate's arm. "Honey, I'm okay. Really. And your aunt is right—we shouldn't be blaming Daniel for something that his brother did."
Mark remained silent for a few moments longer.
Finally he muttered, not meeting his aunt's gaze, "Sorry, Aunt Margaret. I was just worried about Caitlyn and how this whole situation might affect her. She still has nightmares about being attacked by that sabertooth cat. I didn't mean to question your authority."
"I'm glad to hear that," Margaret said, her tone still frosty. But Daniel saw the angry tension drain out of her as the stiff set of her shoulders relaxed.
Caitlyn leaned around her mate to catch Daniel's eye. She gave him a shaky smile, and to his surprise said, "Thank you for making us dinner, Daniel. I'm sorry if we've made you feel uncomfortable."
Relieved, he shook his head. "Believe me, I understand your reservations. If it's any consolation, my brother sincerely regrets what he did. He knows it was unforgivable." Daniel shifted his gaze to Mark. "Even if he does win parole, he won't be making any trouble for your family. Things are different in our pride now."
That last slipped out before he remembered exactly how things had changed again in the past 72 hours. Dammit.
Mark let out his breath in a gusty sigh. "I sure hope you're right."
Another uncomfortable silence followed.
Then Hannah spoke up. "Hey, Daniel, I've been thinking—you really seemed to know what you were doing yesterday, when that guy had a heart attack. Have you thought about joining the fire department as a volunteer? I mean, if you're planning to stay in town for a while, I mean."
She looked at her mother significantly, and Daniel saw Hannah's cheeks go pink.
"Are you sure—" Mark began to ask.
Dane interrupted his younger brother. "I think that's an excellent suggestion, Hannah. The Bearpaw Ridge Fire Department always needs volunteers," he said, his voice calm and deep. He gave Daniel a level look. "We're open to any able-bodied adult without a criminal record. You interested?"
Volunteer firefighter. Daniel liked the sound of that. It might be the key to finding acceptance in this small, tight-knit community. He wanted Chris to be able to grow up in a safe place, surrounded by fellow shifters and friends his own age. And Daniel was eager to gain Margaret's respect...and the respect of her family.
He hadn't been lying earlier, when he'd told her that deciding to move here permanently would be a huge change in his plans. He'd just omitted the part where finding his mate made it all worthwhile.
"Yes. I like being useful," Daniel told Hannah and Dane. "If there's a need, and you're willing to consider a stranger, then yeah, I'm interested."
"Are you eligible?" Mary asked pointedly.
You mean, am I a criminal like my brother? Daniel tried to suppress his surge of anger. It's a fair question, he reminded himself. These shifters don't know me. And they only know the Sandia Mountain Pride by reputation, and that reputation isn't good.
"As far as I know," Daniel answered with deliberate mildness. "I'm in pretty good physical shape. And I've never even had a parking ticket, if that's what you're asking."
Mary nodded, but Daniel suspected that she was probably going to run a background check on him, anyway. Let her. I've got nothing to hide.
"So, I heard you were a Marine?" Ash said. "What was your specialty? We might be able to use your skills in the fire department."
For a moment, Daniel wondered why on earth Bearpaw Ridge would need combat-trained firefighters.
Then he remembered that this was rugged country, with lots of wilderness. A lot of what he'd learned in the USMC might be useful in a non-combat context. "I was a recon Marine. I completed the Basic Airborne Course at USAIS at Ft. Benning in Georgia, and the MCCDC-approved Combatant Diver qualification course."
"You're a diver?" Dane asked, with interest bordering on enthusiasm. "We could really use someone like you. We have a lot of lakes around here, not to mention the river, and there are always kayaking and boating accidents during the summer."
"At the bakery, you mentioned that you were the equivalent of an EMT-B," Hannah said, looking happy that her suggestion was being taken seriously. "What does that mean?"
"That I passed the Marines Combat Lifesaver course," Daniel explained. "It covers battlefield injuries in addition to the standard first aid and CPR courses that they taught us in boot camp. The way I understand it, MCL training provides an intermediate step between basic first aid and combat medic."
"We don't see too many gunshot wounds around here," Dane said, his gaze resting on the small bandage on Daniel's left forearm. "But any kind of trauma training is useful for car accidents. We have a lot of those, unfortunately."
"Too many people who think having four-wheel drive equals having four-wheel brakes," Mark commented acidly. "Especially during the first snowfall of the season."
"Yeah, you should see the traffic chaos in Albuquerque whenever it snows," Daniel agreed.
The tension around the dinner table dropped another few degrees. Even Mark, his arm still around Caitlyn, had lost his scowl and was looking at Daniel with something approaching friendliness now.
Tyler, the heavily-tattooed Swanson cousin who owned the construction company, asked, "Daniel, how did you and Aunt Margaret manage to get Rob and Lizzie to volunteer as waiters tonight, when Mary and I can't even get them to make their beds half the time?"
Daniel smiled at him. "I told the kids that anyone who didn't want to help with dinner service was going to end up washing dishes later."
"Ooh, genius idea! I'll have to remember that," Mary said, her blue eyes twinkling.
Like Mark, she appeared to have warmed up considerably since Daniel had agreed to volunteer for the fire department.
"Speaking of which...I couldn't help but notice that most of you sat yourselves down and socialized while Daniel, Ash, and the kids were working their butts off to prepare this wonderful meal." Margaret folded her hands on the table in front of her, and swept a smile like the blade of a very sharp sword around the family members seated around the two "grown up" tables. "Please remember that the non-stick and cast iron pans do not go in the dishwasher."
Daniel blinked, both at the return of her air of absolute authority, and at the reaction from the group of huge, heavily-muscled male bear shifters seated at the table. They all looked abashed, even Mark. Everyone except Margaret and Ash rose without protest and began clearing the table.
"Dane, Annabeth," Margaret said, halting the pair with an imperious gesture. "You've already done enough tonight. Come, sit with me."
Dane looked amused. "Are you sure all that power isn't going to your head, auntie?"
"This clan head thing is kind of fun," Margaret admitted. "But please,
sit. With the two of you so busy all of the time, I feel like I hardly ever see you."
Dane smiled, and pulled out a chair for Annabeth before seating himself across from Margaret.
As the sound of running water started in the kitchen, accompanied by the clink of plates and glasses and the dull jangle of cutlery, he leaned back and put his arm around Annabeth, who leaned fondly into his embrace.
"Give me your email address," he said to Daniel, "and I'll send you registration information and a schedule for the training courses you'll need to take." He extended his hand across the table. "Welcome to the Bearpaw Ridge Fire Department, Daniel. Ignore any growling sounds you may hear coming from Mark's direction—we're glad to have you on board."
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