Elle swept into the room, and stopped short. "You look awful."
Margaret sighed and shut the fridge door. Nothing looked appetizing, anyway.
"Thanks a lot. Nice to see you, too." At least her sarcasm hadn't deserted her in the wake of Daniel's departure.
Elle folded her arms and frowned. "I mean it. You don't look well. What's going on?"
You mean you haven't heard?
"I haven't been sleeping," Margaret confessed.
Elle blew out a breath. "I heard from Manny that Daniel's living in the staff quarters at the resort now."
"That's nice," Margaret said flatly. Please go away, Elle.
She told herself she didn't care where Daniel was or what he was doing.
Her sister wasn't ready to give up. Elle continued, "Apparently, he's not sleeping either, and he looks every bit as awful as you do."
"Sorry to hear that." Margaret tried to quell her traitorous surge of hope at the news. Maybe Daniel is missing me as much as I miss him? But why hasn't he tried to contact me?
Elle shook her head, obviously frustrated with Margaret's laconic responses. "I don't know what happened between the two of you, but I know a broken heart when I see one. And I'm betting that you're not the only one."
"But what am I supposed to do?" Margaret asked.
"You could start by pouring us both a glass of wine and telling me what happened," Elle said, gently.
Margaret didn't want to talk. She wanted to turn around and run like hell for her bedroom. But she knew that Elle was relentless and would pursue her there until Margaret spilled all of her secrets. That was the way it had been all of their lives.
And she was tired of the pain. She and Elle had always been best friends as well as sisters, and Elle could usually come up with a good solution to any problem Margaret couldn't solve on her own.
"Red or white?"
Elle pulled out one of the stools and sat herself down at the island. "Whatever you have open is fine."
Margaret hauled half a bottle of Chardonnay out of the fridge, and fetched a couple of clean wine glasses out of her cupboard. She poured them both generous slugs of golden wine, and sat herself on the stool next to Elle.
"I thought he was serious about me," she began. "Things were going so well..."
The rest of the story spilled out of her, including her disastrous attempt to dissuade Daniel from inviting his pride to move to his new ranch.
Elle listened without comment until Margaret got the part about Daniel referring to their affair as a fling. Days later, it still hurt to recall that moment.
"Ouch," Elle said, sympathetically. "Are you sure that wasn't just an unfortunate choice of words?"
Margaret considered it. "Maybe. I think he was upset because I tried to talk him out of his big plan."
"Why did you oppose that?" Elle asked. "Considering what happened back in Albuquerque, it sounds like a pretty good idea to me."
Margaret stared at her sister in shock, unable to believe her ears. "What? I thought that you'd hate the idea of an entire pride of sabertooth shifters moving here. And everyone else would hate it, too. I didn't want to make trouble for the clan."
"So, you made worse trouble, for yourself and for Daniel," Elle said, shaking her head. "You need to fix this. If both of you are miserable apart and neither of you is sleeping, I think you two were further along in the mating process than you realized." She took a sip of her wine. "Look, I like Daniel. And more importantly, I liked seeing how happy and alive you were when the two of you were together. That night at dinner...you were glowing, Maggie. I hadn't seen you like that in years."
"But how do I fix this?" The question rose from the deep, dark well of despair that had been dug in Margaret's soul since Daniel left.
"Have you talked to him at all?"
Margaret shook her head, and Elle made an exasperated noise.
"So, use your words," she said, the same advice that she gave her grandchildren on a regular basis. "Fight for him. Find a way to make it right between the two of you." She leaned over and hugged Margaret, hard. "You're my sister and I'll always love you, Maggie, even if we disagree with each other. Even if you thought I'd be dead set against Daniel's plan, that doesn't mean I wanted you to throw away this second chance for a mate who adores you."
"I want him back, more than anything," Margaret admitted. "All I can think about is him, and how I must have hurt him. And it's not even that I'm against his plan—I was just worried about what Mark would think, and you, and that maybe the people who killed Daniel's friends would try to follow the pride here and make more trouble."
Elle nodded. "You know, a few years ago, I would have fought Daniel's plans tooth and nail. But an old bear can learn new tricks, you know, and I think there's a place here in our community for the Sandia Mountain Pride. Though," she added with a wry smile as she tossed off the last of her wine, "Once you smooth things out with Daniel, you might want to talk to him about finding a new name for his pride. Perhaps they could call themselves the Bearpaw Springs Pride, going forward."
"I don't know," Margaret said.
It was a lie. Every fiber of her being wanted to run out to her car right now and drive to the resort as fast as possible. But every fiber of her being was also terrified that Daniel might reject her attempt to reconcile.
Elle leaned forward and plucked the wine glass out of Margaret's hand.
"You're over-thinking this. Just go," she ordered. "Make this right so that you can both stop stewing in misery like a pair of lovesick teenagers."
"What if he doesn't want me? What if this really was just a fling to him?" Margaret asked, voicing her deepest fear.
Elle snorted. "Now you're just trying to talk yourself out of an uncomfortable conversation."
As if the universe were underlining her sister's advice, Margaret's phone chimed with an incoming text message.
A shock ran through her when she saw Daniel's name pop up on her Caller ID.
Elle peered over at the screen, and smiled triumphantly. "See! Go on, read it!"
Margaret hesitated. I'm normally not this much of a coward.
She took a deep breath, then opened her messaging app.
I'm sorry for what I did. I miss you a lot.
Her hand was shaking as she turned the phone and showed the text to her sister.
Elle leaned forward. "Go on, Maggie. You know what you need to do. And don't take no for an answer."
Margaret read the text again. The letters blurred as her eyes began to sting. Then hot tears began to roll down her cheeks.
"Aren't you going to reply?" Elle asked, her tone gentle now.
She handed Margaret a Kleenex.
Margaret wiped at her eyes and sniffled, then shook her head. "Yes, of course." Then she thought about it. "No. I need to talk to him in person. I'll drive over to the resort first thing tomorrow morning, and catch him before he heads to work."
"At least let him know that you're not rejecting his apology," Elle advised.
Margaret bent her head over her phone and typed.
I'm sorry, too. We need to talk. Can I come by after breakfast?
His reply came almost instantly. Yes. Come by anytime.
Thank God.
It was going to be another long night, but at least there was finally a light at the end of this long, dark tunnel.
Chapter Thirty-Four – Pride of Ownership
Margaret spent another sleepless night, but at least her thoughts were filled with joyous anticipation rather than despair, even if they were mixed with a generous helping of anxiety.
She was up and showered long before dawn, but restrained herself from getting in her station wagon until she knew that Chris would be awake and getting ready to leave for school. She didn't want an audience for what was probably going to be a difficult conversation, and she suspected that Daniel didn't, either.
Finally, it was time to go.
It was a cold and rainy autumn morning, and the drive
out to the Bearpaw Springs resort seemed endless, though she knew that it was located less than 20 miles from the Grizzly Creek Ranch.
She was slowing down as she approached the turn-off from the highway to Bearpaw Springs Road when she spotted Chris standing next to the bus shelter. He was talking to two strangers, both powerful-looking men wearing hiking jackets and dark wool caps. The boy's body language looked tense and wary, and an alarm pinged in her brain.
She slowed down further.
...and saw Chris shake his head vehemently and retreat a couple of steps. He bent and snatched up a stone from the ground. An instant later, he threw it with impressive aim, nailing one of the men in the head.
What on earth?
The man's face distorted with rage as his forehead began to bleed. He yelled something and charged forward. The other man was one step behind him.
Chris threw a second stone, hitting the other man in the shoulder and making him stumble. Then the boy turned and fled, running down the shoulder of the highway with shifter speed. He looked terrified.
The men began to run after him, much faster than any Ordinaries could manage.
That's when Margaret realized that the strangers were shifters, too.
Messerzahn!
Her greatest fear had come to pass. Chris was in terrible danger.
Though she knew that most of the people around her considered her a gentle, cookie-baking aunt to all the kids on the Grizzly Creek Ranch, Margaret had always possessed a fierce temper.
Most of the time, it was slow to kindle, but it burned white-hot once the fuse ignited.
Like it did now, sparked at the sight of these two stranger shifters trying to harm a child.
A child that she'd grown to like very much.
A child dear to the man she loved.
A child that she'd promised to protect with all her strength.
She swerved her car across the center line of the highway, leaving skid marks on the wet asphalt. She screeched to a halt on the opposite shoulder, inserting her Subaru between Chris and his pursuers. She aimed for their feet, forcing them to backpedal frantically to avoid getting hit.
"What the hell are you doing, you crazy bitch?" screamed one of the men as she scrambled out of her car.
The rain-laden wind smacked her in the face, carrying the scent of sabertooth shifters with it.
Chris threw her a wide-eyed glance over his shoulder and slowed.
"Don't stop!" she shouted at him.
He was a smart kid. He didn't ask any questions, just stretched his legs and picked up his pace again.
Then she turned to face the two strangers, who had retreated to a safe distance as they tried to figure out what to do. She knew she could shift faster than they could. So, she shifted faster than she had ever shifted before, heedless of the clothing that tore and shredded around her.
"Shit, watch out Zǔb! She's a bear shifter!" shouted one of the men. "Abort!"
Both men turned and ran in the opposite direction, heading towards a white Ford Taurus parked in a pullout about a hundred yards down the highway.
Zǔb? These are the guys who tried to kill Daniel! She was not going to let these two thugs get away with trying to harm Chris!
Margaret roared and charged them like a freight train. The sabertooth shifter named Zǔb and his companion were faster than any Ordinary human. But grizzly bears were some of the fastest predators around, and Margaret was impelled by the rage burning through her veins. She bore down on them with ferocious speed.
Zǔb heard her coming. He slid to a halt, spun awkwardly, and pointed a gun at her. She heard it fire, but he hadn't taken the time to aim and the bullet went wild.
She didn't give him the chance to squeeze off another shot. Furious, Margaret swiped at Zǔb's thigh. Her long, curving black claws ripped through fabric and flesh like knives through soft butter, severing muscles and grating against bone. Zǔb screamed and fell headlong onto the gravel of the highway shoulder, clutching at his leg.
His buddy stumbled at the sound and spun to face her, fumbling frantically under his jacket for his own weapon.
She lunged forward, roaring, and wickedly sharp claws raked his arm. She swatted the pistol out of his hand with a spray of blood. He turned and tried to run, but she had no intention of letting her prey escape. Another rake of her claws across the back of his knees, and then this shifter, too, lay helpless and writhing in pain on the edge of the highway.
Neither of them was going anywhere before the police arrived.
"Aunt Margaret!" She turned to see Chris running back the way he'd come, towards her.
When he reached her, he threw his arms around her neck, buried his face in her thick fur, and began to cry. She recognized the emotional storm as the aftermath of his desperate fight to protect himself from extreme danger, and nuzzled him, making the soft rumbling sounds she'd used to soothe her own children when they were still young.
When his sobs began to lessen, she licked his cheek, tasting salt, then stepped back to shift back to human. Then she returned to her car, wrapped herself in a blanket that she always kept folded on the back seat, retrieved her phone, and tried to call Daniel to warn him.
The call went straight to voicemail.
A cold stab of worry shot through her.
Next, she phoned 911, and provided Linda with a carefully edited version of what had just happened, trusting the wolf shifter dispatcher to fill in the blanks.
Linda promised to send out a couple of ambulances in addition to notifying the police vehicles closest to her location.
"The police are on their way," Margaret told Chris, whose tear-stained face looked pale and shaky.
He nodded.
She pointed at Zǔb's companion. "Is that Messerzahn?"
Chris shook his head. "No. I saw Mr. Messerzahn once. He's a lot bigger that this guy, and he's got bleached blond hair."
Oh no. That meant that Daniel might still be in danger. Somehow, she didn't think that these two thugs had come all the way to Idaho on their own.
She strode over to where Zǔb lay sprawled. He cringed at her approach. Good.
"Why were you trying to hurt this boy?" she demanded in a hard voice.
"We weren't gonna hurt him!" Zǔb protested. He stank of fear as she towered over him, wrapped only in a blanket. "We were just going to take him to see Mr. Messerzahn... ma'am." He added belatedly
Messerzahn is here in Bearpaw Ridge. Oh, God! The stab of worry in Margaret's gut coalesced into an icy ball of fear. Daniel!
"And where is Mr. Messerzahn right now?" asked Margaret. Her tone sounded odd to her own ears—cool, almost detached.
"Don't say anything," warned Zǔb's companion.
Margaret lifted her hand and studied her bloodied fingernails. She saw Zǔb flinch at the reminder of what her claws had done to him just now.
"Don't make me ask you again," she said softly, just like she'd seen in a movie.
It actually worked.
Zǔb's nerve broke. "We were supposed to bring the kid to over this ranch called the Cougar something. It's just over there, behind that hill. That's all I know!"
The first sirens sounded in the distance, and grew rapidly closer.
The police are almost here. She jittered with impatience, and fought the urge to just leave the scene and race to Daniel's ranch.
Please, don't let me be too late.
* * *
Daniel's phone rang shortly after he returned to his apartment after dropping Chris off at the school bus stop.
That had to be Margaret calling to let him know that she was on her way. His thoughts filled with feverish anticipation. Margaret's coming here! She wants to see me!
He had put on the nicest shirt in his limited wardrobe after showering, and he'd shaved for the first time in days. Now, as he peered in his bathroom mirror to make sure he hadn't missed any spots, he realized that he still looked like hell from all the long days and sleepless nights since their fight.
&
nbsp; Maybe I should cook her breakfast, he thought as he headed eagerly over to his phone. Do I have enough eggs to make omelets?
Then he saw the phone's Caller ID. Messerzahn, A.
All of his pleasurable anticipation suddenly died and lay in his gut like the corpse of a dead rat. How the hell did he get my number?
Whatever's he's calling me about, it won't be good news. Daniel stared at the phone, debating whether to take the call or let it go to voicemail. But he'd already tried to avoid the other sabertooth shifter...and look what had happened.
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