"No!" Fueled by fear, her voice came out in an unaccustomed shout. "No, you don't! I offered you and Chris sanctuary at the ranch to protect you. Stay here, with me. You'll be safe!"
"Maybe. But what about the rest of my pride?" Daniel asked quietly.
The determined look in his green eyes sparked panic in her soul. I'm going to lose him just like I lost Ryan!
"I don't care about those other shifters. I just want you to be safe!" she retorted without thinking. "Sanctuary doesn't apply if you move out to Cougar Lake! That isn't Swanson territory!"
"Then it's about time I stopped hiding behind a bunch of bear shifters," he snapped.
She saw that he was hurt and upset by her objections to his plans. "But—" she tried again.
"You may not give a damn about my people, but I do!" Daniel snarled. " And if you can't deal with that, then maybe we need to rethink our little fling."
Margaret gasped, feeling as if he'd just tried to drive a blunt stake through her chest. A fling? Is that all I am to him?
Ice congealed around her heart, numbing the pain and clouding her thoughts. A fling. Just a fling.
She had thought she could save herself from the pain of heartbreak by not mating him.
She'd been wrong.
She'd forgotten that purely human relationships had the ability to tear your heart out by the roots, too. I screwed up. I was lonely and he was so charming and he said and did all the right things. I fell in love with him.
She felt almost as shocked and eviscerated as she had when she received the news of Ryan's death all those years ago.
"You're right," she heard herself say. "I don't think we want the same things out of this relationship."
"Wait—" Daniel began, but Margaret's feet carried her to the foot of the grand staircase.
She couldn't stop now, couldn't say another word to him. If she did, she knew she would start crying. And she didn't want to cry, not in front of him. Not now.
Feeling a hundred years old, she climbed slowly up to the second floor.
She entered her bedroom, then just stood there, unsure of what to do next. She sure as hell didn't want to lie down on her bed, where they had spent so many pleasurable hours together, and which still smelled like him.
After an eternity, Daniel's footsteps sounded on the stairs. She felt a brief spurt of hope that he was coming to tell her that he hadn't meant his cruel words.
She fought the temptation to rush out and admit that she'd been wrong to say that she didn't care about his fellow shifters. Because in her heart, she knew that she was right. If he did this thing, then his enemies would know where he'd gone.
They'll kill him. They'll kill Chris, too.
Instead, Daniel went into his room, and she heard him gathering his belongings from the closet and chest of drawers, followed by the sound of his duffel bag zipper. Then he went into Chris's room, and packed all of his nephew's belongings, too.
I guess he really meant the part about this just being a fling to him.
He walked back downstairs, and she fought the urge to run out to the landing and beg him to stay. She still had her pride.
Her front door opened and closed, and then she heard his Jeep start and drive away.
He was gone.
And she was alone. Again.
How could I have been so wrong about him? I thought he wanted me for his mate.
Chapter Thirty-Two – Shattered Dreams
"But that's stupid!" Chris protested when Daniel met him at the school bus stop that afternoon and informed him that they were moving to the staff quarters of the Bearpaw Springs Resort. "I don't want to leave the ranch! What about my riding lessons? And Friday night gaming at Mitya's house?"
"I'm sorry, Junior, but that's the way it's gotta be now," Daniel said, feeling guilt twist his guts.
He had fucked up.
And badly.
The expression of raw pain on Margaret's face had haunted Daniel all day. He felt that pain, too. He had fucked up. Meeting her had been the best thing that had ever happened to him. But he'd let his temper get the best of him and had said the thing he knew would hurt her the most.
There was no way that she'd ever take him back now, even if she hadn't shown him how staunchly opposed she was to his plans for his new ranch.
He'd honestly thought that she would be happy about the solution he had found for his pride...a solution that provided for their future safety while still letting him stay close enough to Margaret to continue courting her. He'd never dreamed that she would be so prejudiced against his lineage that the thought of his pride finding refuge here would horrify her.
But no matter how much pain he was in right now, he couldn't afford to let a broken heart stop him from finally doing the right thing for his pride.
Since it was Monday, and the first of Daniel's two scheduled days off from the restaurant, he had left the ranch after packing up his stuff and Chris's belongings, and driven to town. There, he used the more reliable cell service to make a number of phone calls.
The first call had been to Eddy, asking him whether any of the staff housing at the resort was available. To Daniel's relief, Eddy hadn't asked any uncomfortable questions, just told him that he had a furnished two-bedroom apartment available at the back of the lodge, and that Daniel could pick up the keys from Ariela any time after 3:00 pm.
Daniel's second call was to Teddy. His cousin had loved the idea of relocating the Sandia Mountain Pride to the Cougar Lake ranch.
"You know I like my in-laws," he confided. "But Amelie and I both feel it's time to move on. We just didn't know where to go. I'll tell Amelie and we'll pass on the word to everyone else."
Next, Daniel called the listing agent for the ranch, Eddy's nephew Manny Ornelas.
Manny invited him to come by his office in town. He was a cheerful-looking man in his late thirties, with a dark goatee and an energetic manner.
Over coffee, he told Daniel that he'd love to list Daniel's house in Albuquerque and that Daniel's plans to use the proceeds to purchase the Cougar Lake ranch sounded like a plan. He echoed Margaret's opinion that the deceased owner's heirs would be so happy to hear that the property had a buyer, that a contingent offer well below asking price would be just fine.
Manny also proved to be a font of helpful advice about which moving companies to hire to pack up Daniel's old house and store his belongings until he was ready to move into the ranch house, and where to rent the dumpsters he'd need to start the cleanup project at his new home once the real estate deal closed.
The rest of the day had passed quickly, and before Daniel knew it, it was time to pick up Chris and inform him that they were moving again.
Now, Chris sat in the passenger seat of the Jeep, and scowled out the window.
Daniel shook his head. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "But we're not moving very far. And you'll still be able to see your friends at school, right?"
"It's not the same," Chris protested. He chewed on his lip, scowling. "I thought you were going to marry Aunt Margaret, I mean Mrs. Swanson."
"I thought so, too," Daniel replied, shocked into answering before thinking. "I mean, I really liked her. But things didn't work out."
Chris turned to him, frowning, and in that moment, he looked exactly like his father, when Pete had been that age.
"Whatever you did, you should just say you're sorry," he declared.
"If only it were that easy," Daniel said. "Look, I do have some good news. I talked to Cousin Teddy this morning, and it looks like he and Amelie are going to move here. And maybe some other members of our pride."
Chris's eyes widened. "Really? When?"
"Soon," Daniel assured him, as they turned off the highway. "I decided to buy a ranch near here. The house is kind of nasty right now, but do you want to see it?"
"Sure," said Chris, his scowl vanishing. "I'm just glad we're not moving back to Albuquerque."
"Everything's going to be okay," Daniel told him, and wished he c
ould believe that himself.
* * *
Despite his fatigue, when Daniel finally sank into bed in his new quarters at the resort later that night, he lay awake for hours, acutely aware of Chris's resentful presence in the neighboring room. The boy had been visibly disappointed by the condition of the Cougar Lake Ranch, and had kept trying to talk Daniel into returning to the Grizzly Creek Ranch.
And when Daniel did fall asleep an hour or two before dawn, his long-absent nightmares returned with a vengeance. Except this time, he was carrying Margaret down that endless dusty road to FOB Shukvani, breathing in furnace-hot air that stank of blood as she grew colder and stiller in his arms.
Manny phoned the next day. Daniel's house in Albuquerque had already received six full-price offers, and a bidding war was currently in full swing between the competing buyers.
All Daniel could think about was how empty the good news felt without Margaret to share it with.
Two sleepless nights later, Daniel accepted an all-cash offer of $30,000 over his asking price for his adobe.
By Friday, he found himself the owner of the Cougar Lake Ranch, with a healthy amount of money left over for renovations. So healthy, in fact, that he wouldn't need to raid his retirement savings to pay for a new roof, a new kitchen, new floors, and new bathrooms, in addition to all of the cosmetic work needed.
Over the next week, Daniel tried to keep himself busy by spending every minute that he wasn't at work cleaning out the nasty house. With Chris's reluctant and loudly complaining help, he filled an entire over-sized dumpster with the trash and old furniture that had littered the inside of the house and the yard, and commenced to clean the place from top to bottom.
Despite the hard physical labor, he only slept an hour or two every night. The rest of the time, he was tormented by Margaret's absence.
Tyler Swanson came by, did a walk-through, and recommended that the house be taken down to the studs to remedy the mold issues from years of leaks from the roof. After that, he promised that the renovations would be completed by Thanksgiving.
Chris remained unhappy about leaving the Grizzly Creek Ranch. After the first couple of days, Annabeth phoned Daniel and informed him that Matt had asked if Chris could still spend time after school at the ranch. Daniel was surprised. He fully expected that by now, all of the Swanson probably hated him and regretted offering him sanctuary.
Instead, there had been a strange radio silence. No nasty texts, no accusing emails. And somehow, that felt worse that the anger he'd been expecting.
He agreed instantly, thanked Annabeth lavishly, and tried to figure out how to make the transportation logistics work with his afternoons and evenings work schedule at the resort.
Before his disastrous argument, Daniel had been excited about making this ranch house the kind of place he could share with Margaret. Now, weary to the bone and insomniac, he spent each day forcing himself to go through the motions to provide Chris and the members of his pride with comfortable homes.
The first cars and RVs with New Mexico license plates begin arriving on the property on the same day that Tyler's crew showed up to demolish the interior of the house (which still stank, despite Daniel's feverish attempts to scrub down every inch). Everyone pitched in with gloves and sledgehammers in an effort to complete all of the needed work before the first snow of the season.
Daniel found himself surrounded by his fellow sabertooth shifters, but he had never felt so alone.
Chris finally lost patience with him one evening, when Daniel drove over to the Grizzly Creek Ranch during his dinner break to pick up his nephew from Annabeth and Dane's house. Every time he passed through the ranch's gates, he wondered whether he might accidentally-on-purpose encounter Margaret, something he both dreaded and longed for with all his heart.
"Matt says that you made Aunt Margaret—I mean, Mrs. Swanson—really sad," he said, when he had fastened his seatbelt.
Daniel didn't know how reply to that so he remained silent while he put the Jeep in gear and began to drive.
"I told him that you were really sad, too," his nephew continued.
Then Chris reached over and picked up Daniel's phone where it rested in the center console cupholder while it charged. He swiped rapidly a few times, then typed in Daniel's passcode...the one that Daniel didn't realize Chris knew.
"Junior, what are you doing?" Daniel demanded sharply, too tired to risk taking his eyes from the narrow gravel road that led back to the highway.
"Sophie said that Aunt Margaret would probably forgive you for whatever you did if you apologized to her," Chris said. "Matt said that she'd definitely forgive you."
"You talked to your friends about me and Mrs. Swanson?" Daniel asked, incredulously.
Does everyone on the ranch know about what happened? Probably.
He was just surprised that Mark hadn't shown up yet to beat the crap out of him.
Chris held up the phone and wiggled it. "You can just tell me what you want to say, and I'll text her."
"No. Put my phone back where you found it," Daniel ordered, and promised himself that he'd change his passcode as soon as they got back to their apartment.
"C'mon, Uncle Dan," Chris protested. He bit his lip, as if considering his next words, then said, "Matt says that all of the grownups are worried about her."
The kid sure knows how to deliver a gut-punch, thought Daniel. Guilt clawed through him. The last thing he had ever wanted to do was hurt her, and yet here he was.
She was supposed to be our mate, his cat said. I don't understand why you won't talk to her.
Daniel swallowed hard.
"Okay," he said, hoarsely. "All right. Tell her...I'm sorry. And that I miss her. A lot."
Chris grinned and his thumbs flew over the screen.
She probably won't reply, but at least I apologized, thought Daniel, as he turned onto the highway and drove away from the ranch.
Chapter Thirty-Three – A Light at the End of the Tunnel
The days and nights that followed Margaret's breakup with Daniel were awful. Her bear howled all night, and surrounded by Daniel's fading scent, she couldn't sleep more than an hour or two every night. Neither could she bring herself to change the sheets.
She lay in her empty bed all through the long hours of the night, staring up at the shadows on the ceiling and replaying every moment of their fight. She missed Daniel's easy smile over coffee in the morning, his quiet manner, and the way he called her darlin'. Most of all, she missed his kisses and his presence in her bed.
When she did fall asleep, she found herself in a clean but slightly shabby room that had the impersonal air of a hotel. Her surroundings didn't feel threatening, but she felt the most awful sense of despair and psychic pain. It was as if her own feelings had manifested in some kind of haunting.
She always woke up sweating, her heart racing and her stomach churning with anxiety and terrible longing.
During the day, she dragged herself numbly through the familiar routines of household chores and B&B work, avoiding contact with her family. She spent a week ignoring the stream of text messages asking her why Daniel and Chris had suddenly left the ranch, until her family finally stopped asking.
Matt misses the video game nights with Chris, Annabeth texted her a week later. He says that Chris is really mad at his uncle for moving away.
Margaret stared at her phone, and knew she couldn't ignore this particular message. Guilt gnawed at her at the pain she was causing not only Daniel's nephew, but her own nephew as well.
But how could she explain what had happened, when even thinking about it was too painful to bear?
I'm so sorry, Annabeth. This is all my fault. It's complicated.
Annabeth's reply came almost instantly.
Hugs, Aunt M. I'll tell the rest of the family to lay off and give you time. Let me know if you want to drop by the bakery for some coffee and talk about it. I promise I can keep a secret if you need me to.
Annabeth's kind response
reminded Margaret that she couldn't avoid her family's well-meaning questions forever. She just hoped to put it off long enough so that she could face them without feeling as if every inch of her was as raw as a skinned deer, all her nerves and muscles exposed to the harsh light and air.
One afternoon, Elle rapped sharply on the front door as Margaret stood numbly in front of her open fridge staring at the contents, and telling herself that she needed to make something for dinner even if she had no appetite.
"Maggie?" Elle called as she opened the door and walked in.
"In the kitchen," Margaret said, wearily, knowing there was no escape.
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