The Keeping

by Nicky Charles

  Shaking her head, Lucy interrupted Mel’s attempt at offering comfort. “No Mel, not ‘any man’ at least not here in Stump River. But someday, when I save enough money, I’m going to move to a big city like Toronto or Montreal and make a new start for myself. Find some guy who thinks I’m more than just a roll in the hay.” She gave a determined smile. “Don’t get me wrong. The people here are good to me, but I want more. I deserve more.”

  Mel looked at her friend, taking in the tilt of her chin and her slightly narrowed eyes. Her heart swelled with pride in the woman. Lucy was more than people thought she was. “You’re right Lucy. You do deserve more and if I can help… ” She let the sentence trail off, not sure exactly what she could do, but willing to offer her services. The two women’s eyes met and Lucy nodded, obviously understanding the sentiment.

  She patted Mel’s hand. “Now enough about me. It’s you I’m worried about. If you want Ryne, you go for it, just don’t be expecting a lot more than getting your teeth rattled. He wouldn’t purposely break your heart, but he’s not into long term commitments. Keep that in mind.”

  Mel brushed Lucy’s concerns away. “It was a onetime thing. I’m here to interview him—it’s a job, that’s all.”

  “Nothing saying you can’t enjoy your work.” Lucy stood up and winked.

  “Well, maybe… but I doubt it. All we’ve done so far is argue—well, except for this morning. Besides, I’m pretty sure I’m not his type.”

  Lucy gave her a once over. “I don’t know… I’ve noticed him watching you on and off this past week, when you weren’t looking. He’s had his eye on you.”

  “Really?” Mel felt a ridiculous gush of happiness at the idea of Ryne taking notice of her.

  “Uh-huh. If you play your cards right, you might just get lucky more than once.” With another wink, Lucy went on her way.

  Mel watched her leave and mulled over the conversation. Lucy had basically told her to go after Ryne and that Ryne might be interested in her. She wasn’t really sure how she felt about that fact, but knew, from a logical point of view, she shouldn’t even consider Ryne in any light other than that of the subject for an article. But still, fantasies were nice… Suddenly, her appetite came back in full force and she began to eat with gusto. Al really did make good chicken parmesan, she thought as she happily munched away.

  Chapter 19

  Ryne arrived late at Miller’s Service Station on Monday morning. The kitchen cabinets he’d ordered had arrived at the house just as he was leaving and he’d stayed to double check that the order was correct. Ben wouldn’t care that he’d been delayed, but Ryne hated being late. As he climbed out of the truck and made his way to the service bay, he decided he’d have to try to get in early or work a bit longer one day this week to make up the time.

  “Hey, Harley.” He greeted the black lab that wiggled with joy at his appearance, ruffling his fur and giving a quick scratch behind his ears before sending him to tell Ben of his arrival. Harley was a good dog and Ryne enjoyed the happy-go-lucky beast. When they’d first met, Harley had whimpered and hidden whenever he came around, but once the dog understood Ryne was a benevolent Alpha, they’d gotten along just fine. Not that he could truly ‘talk’ to the dog, as the locals were fond of saying, but he understood and used some universal canine body language to communicate.

  Sending the dog on his way, Ryne headed for the office to check the day’s work orders. Pulling out the buff coloured pages from his mail slot, a white envelope tumbled to the ground. Bending over, he picked it up and turned it over in his hands. Only his name appeared on the front. Even as he tore the flap open, Ryne had a sneaking suspicion as to what lay inside.

  Yep. True to her word, Melody—he would never be able to think of her as Mel—had left him a list of interview questions. It had been too much to hope that she’d forget the whole thing. As he scanned over the outline, his face grew grim. Where was he born? Where did he grow up? Where did he go to school? How many people were in his family? All those questions had to be vetoed. He couldn’t take a chance that she’d associate him with Kane’s pack. How he chose his subjects—that was okay. Camera techniques—yep, he’d discuss those. Where he took his pictures—no way. No one could ever discover the wolf picture had been taken just outside Smythston, Oregon.

  Rubbing, his forehead, he tried to ease the headache he could already feel building. This wasn’t going to be easy. He’d have to come up with some cock-and-bull story as to why he wouldn’t answer what were basically simple questions.

  Ben Miller sauntered in, Harley leading the way and wagging his tail, obviously pleased to have completed his mission. “Hey Ryne, you look worried. What’s up?”

  “Nothing much Ben.” He folded the list and stuffed it in his pocket, then bent to pat Harley as a reward for following orders.

  Ben nodded towards Ryne’s pocket. “That letter you were reading—it was from the new girl in town—Mel, I think her name is. Anyway, she was here bright and early wanting to give it to you so I said I’d make sure you read it.”

  “Thanks Ben.” He turned to go.

  “So, is she your new girl?”

  Ryne rolled his eyes, but turned to face his boss. Ben didn’t usually indulge in idle gossip so maybe there was some point to this conversation. “Girl? No. Melody isn’t my new girl. She wants to interview me about some pictures I took a while back.”

  Ben nodded. “That’s what I heard. I also heard someone say you were planning on leaving with her, on heading back to the States because you’re really a famous photographer.”

  “Famous? Hardly. If I was, would I be working here?”

  “Now don’t be putting down this fine establishment of mine.” Ben unsuccessfully tried to look affronted. “But I suppose you’re right. If you were famous, you wouldn’t have started fixing up the old Nelson place or be getting your hands dirty, changing oil for me. I just wanted to check to make sure you weren’t planning on suddenly taking off with that girl and leaving me in a lurch.”

  “Rest assured Ben. I have no plans of taking off with Melody. Stump River is where I’m staying.”

  “Good to know. Now quit standing around here yakking and get to work.” Ben headed back towards his office and Ryne shook his head. Nothing ever happened in Stump River, so Melody’s presence was a big event and lent itself to the production of rumours. He just hoped the attention died down when Melody left. The last thing a werewolf pack wanted was attention.

  By time noon rolled around, Ryne had a few ideas of how to avoid certain questions that Melody had on her list. He just hoped he’d be able to pull it off and that she’d accept what he said at face value and not press too hard for more details. Mentally, he rehearsed his plan. Keep things light and simple. Don’t be too friendly. Give her some basic information and send her on her way as quickly as possible. And, no more sex!

  He still couldn’t quite believe how he was acting towards her. First there’d been the incident at her cabin, when he had snuck in during the night and then yesterday morning… His judgement seemed to be slipping where she was concerned, his wolf side pushing to the foreground. That usually didn’t happen. Sure, the beast wanted out, but he’d always kept it in check, until now. So, why was he suddenly having all these conflicting feelings? What was it about Melody that drew him to her? Her warm brown eyes? Her lush breasts? Her quirky personality? Whatever it was, he needed to keep it under control. The woman could very well turn out to be public enemy number one as far as his people were concerned. Involvement with her was nothing but bad news.

  As if on cue, Melody wandered into the service bay. She was wearing a denim jacket, tight jeans, and a loose red top that was gathered at the base of her throat by a tie and then flowed over her full breasts to her waist where it swirled gently every time she moved. Ryne wondered if he undid the bow at the neck, would the top fall from her shoulders and puddle at her feet leaving her bare. He felt a grin spread over his face at the idea and clenched his fists to resi
st the temptation to see if his theory was right.

  Obviously unaware of his thoughts, Melody absent-mindedly played with the string that held her top in place, drawing his attention to the rise and fall of her breasts. “Hi! Did you get the list of questions I left? They’re pretty simple, so I was wondering if you were ready to start on them today.”

  It took Ryne a moment to realize she was waiting for an answer and forced his gaze away from the interesting activity of her fingers. “Today?” He pondered the question. There was no reason to delay any longer. He’d done that all last week just for the perverse joy of annoying her. But now the time for games was over. The sooner she was gone, the better. “All right. Today is fine. I’m almost done work; I just have to put my tools away.”

  “Great!”

  “You can wait over there.” Ryne pointed towards a group of chairs by a set of vending machines selling pop, chips, and various chocolate bars. He watched as Melody made herself comfortable—well, at least as comfortable as the old plastic chairs would allow—and then concentrated on cleaning his tools.

  Grabbing a rag, he wiped down the wrenches, removing dirt and excess grease, before arranging them in the proper drawers of the tool cabinet. A sound behind him drew his attention and he saw Melody was buying a chocolate bar. The look of happiness on her face as she peeled back the wrapper made him smile. From what he’d seen of her so far, she was seldom without coffee in her hand. Apparently, when the coffee was unavailable, she moved on to chocolate. She was a funny little thing.

  Concentrating on finishing his job, he locked the tool box and put the keys away. Moving to the sink, he turned on the water, poured some hand cleaner on his palms and began to work the industrial strength soap into his hands. Soon the layers of grease and grime were washed away and he dried off.

  Melody had just finished her treat when he walked over to her.

  “Ready?”

  She nodded in agreement. “Do you want to talk at the diner or… ?”

  He hesitated for a minute. At the diner, everyone would be eavesdropping and the chance of his neighbours interrupting with questions of their own was highly likely; it was something he wanted to avoid. “No. There’s a nice little place near the cenotaph with a couple of benches. We could sit there.”

  Giving a quick nod, Melody stood and picked up her purse. He ushered her out, calling a goodbye to Ben who was still working in the office. The older man grunted in acknowledgement and Harley gave a woof before settling down to finish one of his many naps.

  They walked in companionable silence down Main Street. A few people called a greeting or waved from their vehicle as they drove past. Ryne nodded in response thinking that within half an hour everyone would be talking about him and the ‘new girl’ in town. Oh well, she’d be gone soon enough and he’d no longer be at the centre of the rumour mill.

  Sitting down on the bench, Melody pulled out her steno pad and a pen. Ryne braced himself, hoping his answers would be sufficiently convincing to keep her from probing too deeply.

  “Ryne, we’re going to start with some simple background information, like date of birth, where you grew up, what your childhood was like—that sort of thing. It will give readers a more rounded picture of you; make you more real to them.”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “No.”

  “Oh.” Melody blinked at him. “Um… why?”

  Ryne assumed his most arrogant expression. “Because, I did not truly exist before photography.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “You heard me.” He shifted uncomfortably, feeling like an ass. It was such a dumb answer but he really hadn’t been able to think of anything else.

  “Yes, I did, but… what does that mean?”

  “That my life before I started taking pictures was of no importance; just a vast wasteland of ill-spent years trying to find my real passion, my real reason for existence.”

  “Are you pulling my leg?” Mel set her pad and pencil down in her lap and gave him a weird look that seemed to be half laughing disbelief and half fear that he really wasn’t joking.

  “No. I am not. Next question.” He stared at her, allowing his wolf to show in his eyes, demanding she accept his word as law. There was a flicker of something in her eyes, an acknowledgement, or recognition of his position and then she dropped her gaze, even going so far as to slightly tilt her head as if offering her throat. Curious behaviour, Ryne thought. Most humans just looked away or cowered. Hmm. Brushing the little idiosyncrasy aside, he relaxed the force of his will.

  Melody gave a sigh—it sounded like she was relieved to be released—and then cleared her throat. “All right. So no background information. Um… do you have any formal training in photography?”

  “No. One day I was out running in the woods and when I stopped to rest, I just really started to look closely at my surroundings. The intricacies of nature’s designs, the variety of hues; they all captured my imagination. The next day I brought a camera with me and starting taking pictures.”

  “Really?” Melody sat up straight, excitement washing over her face. “The same thing happened to me yesterday afternoon. I was out walking around the cabin, and trying to see the forest the way you might and it just hit me. I really wished I had a camera so I could try some different shots.”

  The enthusiasm in her voice caught Ryne’s attention. He noted how her eyes were sparkling and her cheeks glowed. Before he realized it, he heard himself not only offering to lend her one of his digital cameras, but to take her on a hike and show her some photography techniques.

  “Oh, that would be just awesome. When?”

  “How about today?”

  “Sure, though… ” She paused and looked down at her feet.

  Ryne stifled his laughter. Her boots were the same four inch heels that she’d worn sneaking onto his property that first day. “Definitely not the proper footwear. Tell you what. I’ll go home and get a couple of cameras and meet you at your cabin in an hour. That way you can change into some hiking clothes.” He flicked the tie on her top and watched how the bow relaxed slightly revealing just an inch more skin. A low growl rumbled in his throat as he recalled running his lips over the smooth slope of her shoulders.

  “How do you do that?”

  Melody’s question had him giving a start. He’d been so intent on her skin that— “Sorry. How do I do what?”

  “That rumbly thing with your throat. I’ve never heard a man do that before.”

  Ryne felt himself flushing slightly and tried to casually pass it off. “Oh, it’s just one of those weird habits people have. Some guys give a wolf whistle when they see a pretty girl. I… er… growl.”

  “Oh.” She paused and seemed to be thinking over his answer, then brightened. “Then you think I’m pretty?”

  He smiled, noting how nicely she blushed. It wasn’t an all over red, just a stain of pink along her cheek bones. “Yeah. I do.” Leaning forward he gave her a gentle kiss then stood abruptly. “I’ll just go get those cameras.”

  “Sure. I’ll see you in a while.”

  As he strode away, he glanced back. Melody was still sitting there with her fingers pressed to her lips. Damn! He’d done it again. What was wrong with him?

  *****

  Back at the cabin, Mel had pulled on a heavy sweater over her red cotton top, ditched the fashionable boots, and put on sneakers, complete with a pair of extra thick socks. She hesitated over a winter coat, but decided if she was walking, the denim coat would keep her sufficiently warm.

  Sitting on the steps, she waited for Ryne to arrive, excited to try some nature photography and to see him again. She hadn’t been sure how their meeting would go, but she had forced herself to not think about their sexual encounter and to just treat him as a casual acquaintance. Despite what Lucy had said, Mel wasn’t so sure that Ryne saw her as anything more than a warm body to have sex with. A secret part of her hoped there was more, but logically she knew she shouldn’t
hold her breath. Her main focus—as Aldrich had pointed out to her during her daily report—had to remain on getting this article done. Mr. Greyson was hoping for more than ‘I’m still waiting.’

  At least now she could tell the lawyer that she’d started. Mind you, Ryne’s answers had been less than satisfactory. That whole ‘I didn’t exist before photography’ bit was just too corny, like something out of a badly written script. Yet, even though she knew it was ridiculous, something in the way he looked at her, the tone of his voice, the angle of his head—it had compelled her to obey, to not question… It was just weird. Even now, she couldn’t imagine asking him again. Well, it had been an ‘airy fairy artsy’ type of answer, but she supposed it might be acceptable to those who truly lived and breathed art. Hopefully, she’d be able to get enough information with her other questions that no one would notice a certain lack of background detail.

  Ryne’s truck pulled up to the cabin and Mel got to her feet, walking over to greet him. He gave her apparel a once over and then nodded in approval.

  “Much better. Here’s a camera you can use. It’s an older model that I have just as a backup, but it still takes a decent picture.”

  Mel looked at the small digital camera. Ryne might think it was out of date, but to her it appeared relatively new. He showed her how to use the zoom, flash and shutter speed adjustments. “Of course it’s only four megapixels, but that’s sufficient for a starter like yourself.”

  “Megapixels?”

  “Yeah—it’s sort of like how precise or clear your picture will be. Usually, the more pixels, the sharper the image. The term comes from combining the words ‘picture element.’ You know how pointillist artists, like Seurat or Van Gogh use a bunch of little splotches of paint to create a whole picture? Well, millions of pixels combine to create an image.”

  Ryne continued to explain the intricacies of modern photography as they walked through the woods. He also gave her pointers on looking for focal point, watching shadows and a myriad of other small details that she’d never considered before. By the time they headed back to the cabin, she had a much greater appreciation for taking pictures.