by Ava Sinclair
Sabine had also taken her for a walk, and once outside Carly was struck by the accuracy of her first impressions. The house was—quite literally—in the middle of the wilderness, the road leading out rough cut through the trees. She could see that it was passable now, but snows came early and heavy in these parts, and she wondered how they made do when they couldn’t leave.
When the men returned, Carly listened as they talked about the trip and how many pieces they’d sold and how many had been ordered. Sam was abuzz with all that he’d seen in the city, and his enthusiasm reminded Carly of how she needed to get back.
“We’re having elk steak tonight,” Sabine announced as she began setting the table, and Carly walked over to help.
“You look like you’re feeling better.”
Lakota was standing at her side and Carly startled a bit at the sound of his voice. She looked up, and felt her stomach do an odd flip at the sight of him. He was wearing a red plaid shirt, and his sleek ebony hair was pulled away from his handsome face and tied in a ponytail. He smelled of balsam and wood smoke. She fumbled with the silverware she was holding, feeling flustered, and then aggravated with herself for being flustered.
“I am,” she said, remembering their last conversation, the authority in his voice. He’d said he’d planned to talk to her about what she’d been doing out alone. The idea of answering to this man made her feel uneasy in a way she couldn’t describe. She decided to make it known there was nothing to say.
“You all have been very good to me, and you were right. I wasn’t strong enough to travel when you left. But now that you’re back, I really need to get home, back to the city.” When he didn’t immediately respond, she went on. “Look. I’ll pay whatever it will cost if you can arrange a way for me to get back tomorrow, or at least get back to where I left my vehicle when I hiked in. I’m pretty sure I can drive the rest of the way to…”
“I’ll take you back when I’m ready,” he said.
For the first time, Carly felt herself getting angry, but she kept her voice low. “No,” she said calmly. “You’ll take me back when I’m ready.” She paused. “I lost the man who raised me. A good man. And he has unfinished business that I have to take care of. I have a literal house he left me that I have to get in order. Now, I appreciate everything you and your family has done, Mr. Longtree. But if you don’t take me back tomorrow, I’ll start walking.”
He was regarding her now, and she regarded him back, looking up into his deep brown eyes. She was a head and a half shorter than he was, but Carly was told herself if she could face down a bear, she could face down a bossy man.
He shook his head and chuckled. “You know, I believe you actually would.”
“I would,” she agreed.
The smile disappeared and he turned serious. “Then you haven’t learned much of a lesson, Miss Fowler.”
He walked away, leaving her fuming at his response. Carly started to go after him, but he was seeing the visitors out, picking up the seven-year-old boy who was throwing back his head and practicing a howl, much to Lakota’s delight.
By the time he came back inside, Sabine had brought the food to the table and ushered everyone to sit and eat. Carly dined in silence, still fretting over Lakota’s responses, and grateful that Sam and Sabine were still chattering about the trip.
They were still talking as she pushed away from the table and took her cup and bowl to the kitchen. Quietly, she made her way to the bedroom where she’d been staying, determined to leave whether or not Lakota gave her his blessing. There was nothing to pack; the only thing she had was her backpack and she picked it up and sat down on the bed, running her fingers across the shredded fabric. Her jacket was stuffed inside, or what was left of it, along with the empty urn. She pulled that out now and held it on her lap.
“I’m very sorry for your loss.”
She looked up, once again surprised that Lakota had managed to appear so silently. “Thank you,” she muttered, hastily pushing the urn back in the damaged pack as he walked in, and wondering how long he’d been observing her in this private moment.
“That pack may have saved your life,” he said.
“This pack,” she replied. “And that pack of wolves. My memory is hazy. What happened out there? How did you find me?”
“Sam and I were tracking some game when we came upon you,” he said. “My presence scared away the bear.”
“What about the wolves?”
He looked away. “You’re sure you saw wolves?”
“I’m positive,” she insisted. “I’m sure I…” Her voice trailed off and she twisted the strap of the pack in her hand. Was it possible she imagined it? She remembered the concerned glances he and Sabine had exchanged when she’d first mentioned the wolves. Lakota had told her she’d been traumatized.
“Whatever happened, if I’d not come along, you’d be dead,” he said. “It’s dangerous being out in the back country alone.”
She considered this. “It seems I wasn’t the only human walking around in the woods,” she said. “You’d not have found me if you’d not been there.”
“It’s different for me,” he said. “I know the ways of the animals here.”
She bristled. “I got my degree studying animals in the backcountry,” she said.
“I know.” he replied. “And I know who you are. You’re a trained biologist, and daughter of a man my people have respected. The man who adopted you was a great man, and a true advocate. We are saddened that death took him and cut short his vision.”
Carly pulled the zipper closed on the pack and looked up at him. “If it’s cut short, it’s only temporarily. I plan to carry on his work. But I need to get back to do it. If I seem impatient to leave, it’s not because I’m ungrateful but impatient to continue what he started, on the land he fought to keep. If you knew the man who raised me, then you should know how one of his board members only pretended to be a conservationist, how he tried to double-cross him and secure the land for his wolf-hunting buddies.”
Lakota looked away. “Yes, I’m aware of the situation. Bruce Holder is an evil man.”
“He is,” Carly agreed. “And an obsessed one. I can’t be sure that he won’t try to pull something else to try to get his way.”
“Carly…” He used her name and stepped forward. Carly looked up at him. It was clear he was about to say something, but then seemed to think better of it.
“I admire your dedication,” he said. “But a word of caution—if your work involves coming into the backcountry, don’t. Not without someone to protect you.”
Carly sighed and stood. “Look,” she said. “I don’t know why that bear attacked. But I do know that it was an anomaly. It wasn’t the bear’s fault. I was in its territory. When I come back, I plan to take proper precautions—bear spray and…”
“It’s too risky to go back there alone.” His tone was hard. “I want you to promise me you won’t do it. You owe it to me for saving your life.”
“I think I’m capable of deciding whether to take risks,” she said, growing irritated. “And I’m willing to pay you for your time, for putting me up here… name your price. But I don’t owe you a promise to stay here, or to stay out of the woods. And you can’t make me.”
“And what would your Miles Fowler say to that, Carly?” His tone was stern, chiding. “Or the other people in your life who love you?”
She stared at him, her irritation turning to anger. Her voice shook as she replied. “I don’t have anyone left in my life at all. Doc was all I had, and now my work is all I have left. I was planning to come home and help him plan the nature center and work there as head biologist. And I’m not going to promise all that away to some stranger, even if he did save me. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” he said, nodding. “Now ask me if I’m going to accept your answer.”
“Your acceptance isn’t required,” she said, and walked to the door. “I’ll be ready to leave at seven in the morning,” Carly said. �
�I would appreciate a ride. Like I said, if you don’t want to provide it, I’ll walk out myself.”
“I’ll take you,” Lakota said, and walked out. Carly shut the door behind him and leaned against it. She was slightly shaking, but proud of herself for standing down the handsome man who saved her. Apparently chivalry wasn’t dead, at least not in the Alaskan backcountry. But she’d survived a bear attack and had a life to rebuild. She had no time for heroes.
Chapter Eight
Lakota had the truck warmed up and ready to go at seven a.m., and noted that Carly seemed almost surprised that he’d acquiesced to her rather pointed directive to take her back to where she’d left her vehicle.
In the previous evening, he’d conferred with Sabine about the young woman’s insistence in going home, and his concerns.
“I’d planned to try and convince her to stay,” he said. “But she’s healed faster than I would have imagined.”
Sabine shot him a knowing look. “Yes, she has.”
Silence lingered between them for a moment.
“She told me she’d hike out if I didn’t take her.” He smiled wryly. “If we try to force her to stay, she’ll run away.”
“You could try being honest with her.”
“Not yet,” he said. “I have the other pack members to consider. I don’t want to tell her unless I have to. She handled the trauma of Bear’s attack better than I could have imagined. The truth could be even more upsetting.”
Sabine arched an eyebrow. “She’s stronger than you think. And she healed remarkably well. And quickly.”
“That doesn’t mean anything,” Lakota said as he caught her knowing expression.
Now, as the truck moved onto the narrow, bumpy road, he felt himself casting sidelong glances at his stubborn passenger. Yes, there was a chance. But she was so small. Even if Dr. Fowler was right, she’d always need protection.
She seemed lost in thought as they drove, and he could tell she was studying the path they were taking, and its proximity to her land. In human form, the Sourwood pack lived on land adjacent to the five hundred acres Carly had inherited from her adoptive father. But for generations, they and their ancestors had hunted the land Miles Fowler sought to preserve. Miles Fowler had been a secret protector of Lakota’s pack, but also the protector of a secret Lakota was now tasked with revealing.
The issue now? Timing.
Carly had been smart enough to punch the coordinates of the vehicle into the GPS watch she’d been wearing when he found her. Despite the attack, the watch hadn’t been damaged, but now as they approached where her vehicle should have been, he could see her glancing down at her wrist with mounting frustration.
“It should be here,” she told him. “I left it right here. I not only saved the coordinates, I made sure I parked by the trailhead, by those boulders.”
Lakota stopped his truck and put it in drive. He wasn’t going to second-guess her, nor was he about to tell her that he wasn’t surprised her vehicle was missing. There was a lot he wasn’t telling her. There was a lot he’d wished he wouldn’t have to tell her, but this latest development didn’t bode well.
She was looking at him almost sheepishly, and he knew after feeling like she won a victory in getting him to take her to the vehicle, it wouldn’t be easy for her to ask him to take her to town. He decided to spare her the embarrassment.
“I guess I’ll have to take you back then,” he said. “You can file a report on the missing vehicle. It shouldn’t be too hard to trace. Maybe one of Doc Fowler’s friends came out to look for you and took it back. They may have already filed a report.”
She looked down at her hands. “That’s not likely,” she said. “I didn’t tell anyone I was going out here.”
“You didn’t tell anyone?” He turned in his seat to face her. “Why not? Anything can happen when you’re alone in the wilderness.” He glared at her, and before he could stop himself, the words he was thinking were out. “You always tell someone where you’re going, Carly. As an experienced hiker you know that.” He kept glaring at her. “You should have your backside tanned for being so careless.”
“I’m not a child,” she hissed, but he could see her quailing under his criticism, could see how flushed her face was, and how her full lower lip trembled. At that moment, Lakota wanted to follow through, to pull her over his knee, strip down the borrowed blue jeans she wore, spank her bottom until it was red as a berry, and then cradle her while she cried. She may be a grown woman and a trained biologist, but to him, Carly Fowler was a little orphan in need of protection. His protection.
But she was pushing back, resisting and preparing herself to move forward in life alone and without the protection and guidance he sensed she needed now more than ever. The animal within him rose, and he had to fight back the longing to take hold of her, to pull her onto the seat, and stare into her eyes until she broke his gaze and whimpered her fear of his power over her.
Stop.
Lakota took control of himself and put the truck back in gear. Once again there was silence as they drove, but he couldn’t help but steal little glances at Carly as the truck bounced along the road.
“Are all those people who came to your house related?” Her question pulled him out of his thoughts.
“I’m sure if you researched our family tree you’d find that we all share some common ancestry,” he said. “We’ve lived here all our lives.”
She seemed to mull this over before asking her next question.
“Do you mind my asking what happened to your friend? I was curious but I didn’t want to intrude.”
Lakota’s hand gripped the wheel tighter and a lump rose in his throat. He tried not to talk about Caine, unless it was to comfort Sam.
“He was killed,” he answered. “About a year ago. In a hunting… accident.”
“Oh, my god. I’m so sorry. That must have been horrible.”
“It was.” He swallowed. “It is. But I don’t have to tell you about that.”
“No…”
He felt a twinge of guilt about lying, but if Lakota had told the truth—that Caine had been deliberately targeted and killed—she’d might have pressed for details. And there was no way to explain that Caine had been deliberately stalked and targeted for death while in wolf form.
Lakota was pleased to finally see the first signs of civilization and the conversation changed to Carly guiding him along side roads to a secluded neighborhood near Moosehead Bay. The houses here were on large wooded lots—cozy two-story homes with tidy lawns and vinyl siding designed to look like wood. The Fowler home was as classic in design; the lamppost on the front lawn by the ivy-lined sidewalk was still lit.
The driveway held Miles Fowler’s four-wheel drive, a hybrid car for driving around town, and an empty space for Carly’s missing Jeep. Lakota guided his battered truck into that spot and started to open the door.
“It’s okay,” she said, picking up her pack. “You don’t have to walk me in.”
There was a look in her eyes that made no secret that he wasn’t being invited and it bothered Lakota because he knew her unwelcoming attitude stemmed from her need to be independent, to send the message she didn’t need a man to accompany her into the house.
“Listen,” he said, and pulled out a card from his shirt pocket. “If you won’t let me take you in, at least keep my number. That way if you need anything…” His voice trailed off as he pressed it into her palm.
“Yeah, sure,” she said, and exited the truck.
Lakota watched as she tucked the card in the back pocket of her blue jeans. He imagined her forgetting about it, finding it later in the wash, in pieces, after she realized she’d forgotten to remove it from her pocket.
He wanted to at least stay and watch her walk inside, but once she was out of the truck she stood in the driveway, and he knew she was waiting for him to go, and Lakota decided it was probably a good thing she wasn’t his, because if she had been he’d spank her ass for her rudeness tow
ard someone who’d saved her life.
In the rearview mirror, he could see her walking to the front door and watched her until the road curved and she disappeared from view. Lakota looked at the other houses as he passed. Ordinary houses filled with people who woke up, ate breakfast, worked jobs, and raised their children without a clue of the existence of his kind. A woman with a baby on her hip kissed a man as he climbed into his car. He envied them their ignorance. They could not fathom the things he’d seen, the things he’d done.
He slowed his truck at the stop sign at the end of the street, waiting for a school bus to lumber by. Once it had gone past, he craned his neck to look both ways, but before he could pull onto the road he felt the buzz of his phone in the inner pocket of his jacket. It was likely Sam, wondering when he’d be back, and he started to ignore it, but when he saw a second bus coming, he sighed and pulled the phone out as he waited for it to pass. He didn’t recognize the number but answered it anyway.
“Lakota Longtree here.”
The caller didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. Her sobbing voice was instantly recognizable.
“Hold on, I’m coming back.”
Throwing the truck in reverse, he backed up and peeled in the other direction, racing back toward Carly’s house.
Chapter Nine
She couldn’t say why he’d been the first one she’d thought to call. Even though she’d been away at school, she had acquaintances in Anchorage. She wasn’t close to any of them, but she could have called on any of them and they’d have come.