Wild Hearts_A Wild Lake Wolves Prequel

by Kimber White

  “Damn coyotes,” Grandpa Bonner shouted from deeper in the house, agreeing with Harold. Out in the paddock, Rascal and Barney stomped their hooves as if they could hear Grandpa and agreed with him.

  I met Harold’s eyes. He swallowed hard and set the stock of the gun against the ground. When the third chorus of howls rose, I knew in my heart it was something else.

  Chapter Three

  Later that evening, I managed to get chicken soup into both Harold and my grandfather, but there’d still been no sign of our father. No one had seen him since yesterday afternoon. I tried my level best to put on a brave face for Grandpa. Mercifully, he already seemed to have forgotten about Harold’s adventure this morning. I served him dinner on a TV tray in the front room and Harold another one in his own bedroom upstairs. When I finally got Grandpa settled in for the night, I went back up to Harold.

  He lay on his side away from me with the covers pulled up over his ears. His breath went out in a low, rhythmic snore, but I wasn’t buying it for a single second. I leaned against the doorjamb and waited. When Harold didn’t turn, I’d had enough. I walked into the room, grabbed the end of his bedsheets, and yanked for all I was worth. I snapped them away in one great whoosh, startling Harold into finally turning toward me. He was fully clothed and wore his tennis shoes.

  “And just where the heck did you think you were going?”

  Harold scrambled into a sitting position and hugged his knees to his chest. “For crying out loud, Patsy. You scared the daylights out of me.”

  “Right. I wish I still could. Don’t even start with me, okay? Don’t lie. You know you’re bad at it and it’ll just make me angrier. What happened today? And where have you been going every day instead of school?”

  Harold opened his mouth to protest, but the look on my face made him stop. He clamped his lips shut and rested his chin in his palm, defeated. I let out a hard breath and sat on the edge of his bed.

  “Harold,” I said, putting my hand on his knee. “The sheriff came by just a few minutes before you got back this morning. He said you haven’t been in class for almost two weeks. Is that true? Why?”

  He wouldn’t meet my eyes at first. But, I didn’t yell and I didn’t leave. Finally, slowly, he looked back at me. “It’s complicated,” he answered.

  If he didn’t already have a shiner, I might have given him one. “Well, you better make it simple. ‘Cause if you don’t show up there tomorrow, you’re going to end up in juvenile hall. They’ll expel you.”

  “So what? It’s not doing me any good anyway, Patsy. And what difference does it make? In a couple of years, I’ll be the man of the house. I plan to work this farm and tend to the horses until the day I die. I don’t need school anymore for where I’m going.”

  I slammed one fist against the bed. “Harold, you are going to college if I have to drag you there myself with Dad’s shotgun to your head. We are not going to risk you being shipped off to Vietnam as soon as you turn eighteen. I will not lose you like I lose everybody else in this family. You are going to finish high school. You are going to get into Great Lakes University. You are going to be here to help me, Harold. And to do all of that, you are going to march yourself back to school tomorrow morning. Do you hear me?”

  A sob went through me, making me tremble as I clung to the edge of Harold’s bed. He sat there slack-jawed and speechless. Then he clamped his mouth shut again. He met my eyes.

  “Patsy, you worry too much.”

  I wanted to murder him or scratch his eyes out. I wanted to wrap my fingers around his neck and shake him. But, I also wanted to pull his head into my lap and smooth down that blasted cowlick until he fell asleep, just like when he was little.

  “Harold, please tell me what happened. Who were those boys today?”

  “Marcus and Charlie are my friends. They’re good people, Patsy. They’re just...well...we just ran into a little scuffle today. That’s all.”

  “And how come you were the only one bleeding? What kind of friends are they to let you take the brunt of whatever trouble they led you into? They’re practically twice your size. What did they need you to fight their battles for anyway?”

  Harold shrugged. “It wasn’t like that. I swear. They tried to protect me. It’s just...aw, Patsy. You’re a girl. You’re not going to understand.”

  “Try me!”

  Harold shot me a look. I stared back, unflinching. He finally blinked first. “They’re the good guys, okay? Can you just trust me on that? I swear it.”

  “Harold, where did they come from? How did you meet them? Is that why you haven’t been in school? Because you’re running off trying to impress some gang of...of...I don’t even know. And that Luke McGraw, who is he? What in the world is he doing running around with a bunch of teenage boys and...well...and you? If you ask me, that one’s a bad influence, through and through.”

  Just saying his name sent a flare of heat through me. It was my turn to cast my gaze aside so Harold couldn’t see the expression on my face. He knew me just as well as I knew him. It was important to me at that moment not to give off any clue I’d given so much as a second thought to the likes of Luke McGraw. Still, Harold’s answer to my question had me literally sitting on the edge of my seat. But, Harold got strangely quiet. He chewed his bottom lip and looked toward the window.

  “Harold, answer me.”

  He put a hand up. “Yeah. It’s just that it’s hard to explain. Luke is...uh...well...he’s…”

  “Harold, did he do something to you? Is Luke McGraw the reason you got hurt today?”

  “What? No! Patsy, no way. If he hadn’t shown up when he did, things could have been a lot worse, that’s all I’ll say. In fact, I still can’t believe he did show up. You should have seen him. I mean, Marcus and Charlie told me that he could...that he’s...uh…”

  “Harold!” I pounded my fist against the mattress. “What is going on? Also, in case you forgot, I did see Luke. I saw him carrying you up here looking half dead with your brains practically caved in. I don’t know what you’re mixed up with and I don’t really care. If nothing else, today should have knocked some sense into you that that crew is dangerous. You need to stay away from them. Whatever battles Luke McGraw and those boys are fighting, they’re none of our business. Sheriff Masur said as much when he came up here looking for you. I covered for you, but don’t think I’ll do it a second time. I’ve got enough trouble just keeping Dad and Grandpa sorted out. You’re supposed to be helping me with that. Dad’s in the wind again. In fact, I was going to make you do a trip around the lake. But, I guess that’s going to fall to me. Again.”

  Harold dropped his head, looking properly guilty for the first time. “Patsy, I’m sorry. I really am. I need you to trust me that the McGraw pack...uh...I mean, well, they’re not bad, okay? They’ve been good to me. Honest.”

  I was done listening. I didn’t think I could sit there for another second listening to Harold’s line of bull. Plus, as the bruise under his eye blackened, he lost even more credibility.

  “Save it,” I said. “It’ll be dark in another hour. If I’m going to have a chance of finding Dad before nightfall, I’d better get going. Will you at least promise me you’ll stay put? Grandpa’s in bed, but you can’t wander off. You need to be here in case he wakes up and needs something while I’m gone.”

  The corner of Harold’s mouth lifted in a smile and I glared at him again. He wasn’t anywhere close to being off the hook in my mind. But, I could declare a truce at least until morning if he stayed put that long.

  “I love you, Sis,” he said.

  I reached for him and tousled his mop of hair. “Find the clippers for me in the morning. You need a cut.”

  Harold’s broad smile thawed some of the anger and worry I’d carried all day, at least for him. Now, it really was getting late and I’d have to shift my attention to finding our father.

  I checked in on Grandpa one last time. He slept on his back with his mouth partly open, but by the sou
nd of his snoring, he wouldn’t wake for hours. I gently closed his bedroom door and headed down the front porch steps for the barn.

  The sky blazed pink as the evening sun started to dip below the horizon. I’d have just enough daylight for one trip around the lake if I hurried. I led Rascal out of his stall and through the paddock. Barney shot me a wide-eyed stare, jealous of the attention. He was better behaved for a ride like this, but this time of day, he tired easily. Rascal might be ornerier, but it’d be easier to light a fire under him.

  I swung onto his back and clicked my tongue. Rascal didn’t need to be told twice. He headed for the trail through the woods at a brisk trot. I had the urge to run, but knew better. Rascal liked to hug the edge of the trail, giving his rider a faceful of branches if you tried to make him go faster than he liked. Once we were clear of it though, I’d let him rip into a full gallop.

  Emerging from the woods, the lake glistened like glass. All trace of this morning’s storm had dissipated, leaving the water calm. A family of mute swans glided along the southern edge. I counted six cygnets. Two days ago, I’d counted eight. They were still little enough to make a tempting meal to the larger snapping turtles that hid below them. The male swan hissed as Rascal came to the water’s edge. Rascal snorted his disdain, then started a slow circle along the shore.

  I wanted to kick myself for not bringing a flashlight. The sun dipped ever lower. I’d misjudged the amount of daylight left. I looked for any sign of my father but found none. He hadn’t taken any of the horses and his small fishing boat was moored to the dock.

  “Dad!” I yelled once. Two mallards answered and the swan family moved further away, but I got no other response. Scanning the horizon, I looked for the telltale puffs of smoke that would lead me to Dad’s campfire. Sometimes, he just liked to stay out here in the woods away from other people. It wasn’t like him not to at least let us know when he’d be back. I hoped he’d just gone into town and taken supper with old friends like the Bakers or the Gaithers. He might even have gone into Oodena, the next town over. Dad was one of the few “outsiders” the local Odawa tribes would invite for their weekly poker games. He was probably just kicking back with Joseph Crow or Wyatt Redbird.

  It was full dark when Rascal finished his loop around the lake. I came back to the dock and dismounted. I wasn’t worried, at least, not yet, not fully. My father just preferred solitude more each day. He hadn’t always been like this. When my mother was alive, laughter filled the house more than silence. But since breast cancer took her, I lost most of my father too. He still worked the farm and paid the bills, but it seemed like his soul left along with hers.

  Sitting on the edge of the dock, I kicked off my boots and dipped my toes in the water. A frog darted out from under the planks, leaving a streaking wake as he dove under the nearest clump of lily pads.

  Sweat beaded between my shoulder blades. The storm had kicked up the humidity and it felt more like late August instead of late April. A full, bright moon rose above the tree line. I yelled for my father one last time. As still as it was, he would have been able to hear me if he were anywhere along this side of the shoreline. I got no answer back.

  Burying my face in my hands, I let out a heavy sigh. My shoulders ached as if the worries and burdens of my day had physical weight. I’d give anything to lay them down, just for an hour or two. It seemed the choices made by the men in my life might never allow for that. Harold was a good kid, but he was young and brash. Sheriff Masur was right; he needed a stronger hand than my father or grandfather were capable of providing. When he was littler, I could get him to listen to me. Now though, Harold was half a foot taller and looked more like a man than a boy. Worse still, he thought he was invincible.

  I could understand the appeal his new friends held for him. Something about Luke, Charlie, and Marcus seemed rough and wild as if the rules didn’t apply to them. That was exactly what scared me the most. Just thinking about Luke sent heat trilling through my blood. Just standing still, the man exuded coiled strength and raw power. The other boys cowed to him with just a look or a shift in his posture. When I closed my eyes, I couldn’t help imagining what it would feel like to have his arms wrapped around my waist or that full, sensual mouth of his crushing down on mine.

  My eyes snapped open and I gasped for air. My t-shirt stuck to me. Looking down, I saw I still had some of Harold’s blood caked on my shirt and in my hair. With only Rascal’s wide, blinking eyes as a witness, it seemed like the perfect evening for a swim. I needed something to take my mind off my fears about Harold and the agitation Luke and the others brought into my thoughts. I peeled off my clothes and stacked them neatly on the edge of the dock. With moonlight casting blue shadows over my skin, I threw my head back and basked in it.

  The swan family swam in front of me again; the mother eyed me with suspicion, halting her progression.

  “Sorry,” I called out. “No bread for you tonight. Shoo!”

  The mother swan shook her head, flapped her wings, then moved on with her young ones. The father swan jolted ahead, moving toward a thicket of weeds on the east side of the lake. I stood, stretching my arms above my head. There was something magical about being out here alone at night. Gooseflesh prickled along my arms. Reaching up, I pulled the ribbon out of my hair, letting my thick, blonde curls fall around my shoulders. I should have thought to bring soap out here. It was the perfect night for a lake bath.

  My nipples puckered as a slight breeze kicked up. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck rose and for an instant, my heart raced. It felt like someone was watching me. Scanning the shoreline again, I saw no one but the retreating swans and Rascal. I had this particular stretch of the lake all to myself.

  Taking a deep breath, I went up on my tiptoes and took a shallow, arcing dive into the water. I emerged gasping from the shock of the cold; it left me exhilarated, driving out the disquieting thoughts rattling around in my brain. I took long strokes backward, zipping through the water. I pushed my hair back and swam toward shore. I dug my knees into the sand and rose up. Rascal snorted, expressing disapproval at my reckless choice of a late evening swim. I turned away from him and back toward the water.

  Again, I felt a prickle along my spine and I scanned the shoreline. Even as the cool water sluiced down my arms, I felt a slow heat building inside of me. There was something so sensual about the solitary moon and the stillness of the lake. That heat within me grew, blossoming in my core. Taking one last look around, I let my fingers trail over my arms settling on the hard peaks of my nipples. A steady pulse beat between my legs and I grew bold, sliding my hand to the juncture of my thighs.

  A delicious ache grew there, drawing me out. Luke’s face wavered in front of me like some spirit I’d conjured. Those piercing, gray eyes had stared straight through me, stirring up a powerful lust and every fantasy I kept to myself. I leaned back until I sank into the sand. I stretched my legs in front of me and threw my head skyward. I stroked the hard little nub at the center of me and spread my legs wide. It felt so good, so right. I could steal just a few moments of peace and selfish pleasure before I had the weight of the world back on my shoulders. Desire flared through me and I thrust my hips. I sank lower into the water until my breasts were fully submerged. Water splashed around me as I bucked with abandon beneath the gentle waves that hid my secret.

  I came fast and hard, sliding beneath the water. My limbs shook with delicious release. Kicking off from the bottom, I swam away from the shore and dove deep. I finally emerged, gasping for air as the echoes of pleasure tingled through me. As I reached the dock, I dipped my head under one last time before I grabbed the ladder and pulled myself out.

  Water pooled around me as I leaned forward and wrung out the ends of my hair. I pulled my t-shirt back over my head hoping the ride back through the woods would leave me enough time to dry off the rest of the way.

  Something moved in the trees as I slid my panties back over my hips. Rascal neighed a warning and my heart hammered in my
chest. There was nothing there though. Still, my senses heightened on some preternatural level. I wasn’t alone. I froze at the end of the dock with my t-shirt clinging to me like a second skin. A flash of silver caught my eye and I turned toward the western shore.

  A shadowy silhouette emerged and my pulse quickened, thundering in my ears. If it weren’t for the brightness of the full moon, I might not have seen it so clearly. In some back corner of my consciousness, I knew I should have been scared. I wasn’t though. It...no...not it. He. With every cell in my body, I knew that’s what he was. He took two slow steps and squared his powerful shoulders, facing me.

  A large, gray wolf stood at the edge of the tree line on a tiny, rocky peninsula jutting out along the western shore. He raised his head and his nostrils flared. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. The heat of my arousal still thrummed through me and I knew instinctively that the wolf had born witness to it all.

  He stared at me with piercing gray eyes that flashed silver in the moonlight. Those eyes. Though I didn’t fully understand why, they were familiar to me. I shouted a halting whisper to Rascal and stepped off the edge of the dock where it was shallow. Though common sense should have told me to fling myself on Rascal’s back and ride away, I couldn’t. Instead, I moved toward the wolf.

  He didn’t move. He kept his eyes locked with mine as I approached. My footsteps sank into the sand as I closed the distance between us. As I got closer, I noticed the tiny details of this powerful creature. He had silvery-gray fur along his back and deep black lines around his eyes. He cocked one ear to the side and shifted his weight from one gleaming white paw to the next. He let me walk no more than ten feet away from him. Though I knew it made no sense, the urge to reach for him and sink my fingers into the soft fur along his back burned strong within me. I felt pulled to him somehow.