by Kimber White
Seth took the lead, setting the pace for the others, and I immediately understood why. At a good thirty years older than Bas, he didn’t have the strength and speed his Alpha did. The pack moved only as fast as Seth could so he wouldn’t get left behind. Though it had only been a few hours since I met them all at once, I had already begun to recognize them in their wolf form. I wondered if it that was part of the growing preternatural connection I had with their Alpha. Alec, Connor, and Eli formed the outer flank of the group. The youngest and smallest, Aaron and Ben stayed in the center of the pack, the most protected position in case of danger. My heart stuttered thinking about what that danger might be.
Bas took a lone position in the rear and slightly behind the rest of the pack. From there, he could watch the pack as a whole, positioned for ultimate threat assessment.
The pack moved swiftly, through open fields and the denser forest, veering off course just once as Seth caught the scent of a whitetail deer, Callum explained. Callum peeled off as they stalked the deer, careful not to spook it. His wolf eyes flashed and he licked his lips as the pack transmitted their bloodlust to him on some telepathic channel.
When the pack burst through the tree line again after the kill, they were quicker, keyed up from adrenaline. We continued overland until I saw the edge of clear, blue water at the center of wooded pines.
Wild Lake.
Though I’d lived in the area all my life, I’d never actually seen the body of water for which it was named except on a map. Natural forest land bordered it on three sides. A small peninsula jutted out on the south side. South of that, I could make out a large, yellow farmhouse nestled on a wooded hill. A red barn and horse corral bordered the property to the west.
Callum took the helicopter low, heading for a clearing west of the barn. The horses in the paddock whinnied and reared as we approached. The downdraft blew their manes back. Callum set us down gently and cut the engines.
“We’ll meet the pack up at the house,” he shouted. “Give ‘em a chance to get all presentable again before they see you.”
I laughed. “I was there yesterday. I’ve seen it all, remember?”
Callum gave me a wink and a two fingered salute. “Yeah, well Pat’ll brain us all for having bad manners.”
“Where are we?” I asked as Callum helped me down. The tangy scent of pine and earth filled my nostrils. Heat coursed through me as Callum held my hand. He seemed able to transmit the pack’s excitement straight through his fingertips.
Before he could answer, a lone figure ran toward us, moving fast for her size. She was maybe Seth’s age or older still. Her wiry gray hair flew behind her as she waddled barefoot across the soft grass. She wore a yellow dress which hugged her plump, round curves and her face split into a smile as she got closer.
“You scared the horses half to death, Callum!” She practically sang her words, her voice raspy and warm.
Callum put a hand to my back and nudged me forward, as if to put me between himself and the wrath of the creature barreling toward us. But, her eyes were kind and her smile genuine as she got there. She threw herself at Callum and he embraced her.
She slapped him on the butt and stuck her hand out toward mine. “Don’t be an ass,” she said to Callum. “Who did you bring me?”
I couldn’t help but laugh at her good-natured smile and firm grip as I shook her hand.
“This is Bas’s girl,” Callum said, the sound of it sent a shock of warmth straight to my heart. Bas’s girl. And he was mine.
The woman put a hand to her heart and smiled even wider. “I knew it,” she said. “And it’s about time, honey. I hope my boys have treated you well. Come on up to the house and let’s get you situated. It’s going to take those mongrels a bit to clean up. They got into something big and bloody on the way up, I see.”
I nodded.
She leaned over and swatted Callum again. “Manners, Mr. Man. Introduce me.”
“Ah.” She must have hit him harder this time because Callum rubbed his rear end and gave her a sheepish smile. “Right. Abby, this is Pat. Pat, Abby.”
“Hello,” I said. “I’m glad to meet you.”
“Pat Bonner,” she said. “Welcome to my home. Now let’s get you up to the house. You’ve got to be starving. I bet they didn’t even bother to let you catch breakfast.”
Pat Bonner. As we walked up to the house arm in arm, my blood ran cold. Pat Bonner. In my mind’s eye, I saw her name on that deed in Foster’s office. I saw the wicked glee in Dale’s eyes as he realized her tenuous hold on the land on which I now walked. And I saw that instant of malice flashing through Dale’s eyes as I explained how she only held this property as long as she lived.
As long as she lived.
Pat squeezed me into a light hug as we walked up the hill.
Chapter Twenty
I never had a grandmother. I grew up listening other kids talk about theirs. They would bring them to school on VIP day or unwrap homemade cookies sent in for other special occasions. They would always have someone to pick them up after school or chauffeur them to practices when their parents couldn’t. They had whole cheering sections at the school plays or just 8th grade graduation. I never had any of that. It had always just been my mother and me, and most of the time it was just me. I made my own school lunches. Forged her name on permission slips and other things she forgot to take care of. But, in the span of twenty minutes, with Pat Bonner in her heavenly-scented kitchen, I got a glimpse of what it might have been like for those other kids.
I don’t know if she knew I was coming or if she just kept the Bonner kitchen ready. But, when we walked in, she had real fried chicken tenders warming in the kitchen and waffle batter in the fridge. Within about five minutes, she’d made me a heaping plate of chicken and waffles. It seemed like a strange combination at first, until I tasted it. She smiled wide when she saw the look on my face after the first bite.
Pat set a pitcher of orange juice and a bottle of milk on the table, then wiped her hands on the checkered apron tied to her waist. “There’s plenty more where that came from. Eat hearty. When those boys get back they’ll cut a path through here like Sherman through Atlanta.”
I waved a fork at her. “Yeah. I saw what they can do to a kitchen last night.”
She laughed and sat across from me, resting her chin in her hands. “Well, it seems like you’re settling in with them easily enough. It’s good to see. We’ve been waiting for Bas to find someone like you for a long time.”
“Someone like me? You just met me. How do you know?”
Pat didn’t blink. “Honey, it’s obvious. You’ve got that glow about you. You’re happy when you’re with him, aren’t you?”
It was so probing a question, but somehow, Pat didn’t offend me. I didn’t fully understand the relationship she had with the pack, but she mattered to them. So, she mattered to me.
“Yes. It’s just been very sudden.”
She laughed and flapped a hand. “Oh, it always is, Abby. That’s the fun part. I’m going to give you a piece of advice I know you haven’t asked for. I don’t know how much Bas has told you about me. Probably not much. But, I’ve been around these boys and their families for most of my life. Follow your instincts where wolves are concerned. You can’t go wrong there. You know what you need, I bet.”
I closed my eyes and let out a breath. My instincts were clear. I wanted Bas. All of him. Though it had been sudden, I couldn’t imagine going back to a life he wasn’t a part of. I didn’t say any of this, but when I opened my eyes, Pat seemed to understand my thoughts anyway. She likely had her own stories to tell. Ones I very much wanted to hear. Her eyes misted a little, and she reached out and put a gentle hand over mine.
“We’ve talked. Bas and me, I mean. He told me about you the last time he came this way. He’s all in; you know that, right?”
Pat’s eyes became laser sharp. As welcoming as she’d been, the conversation turned. Bas mattered enough to her that she wanted to know
my intentions. I found it both endearing and scary as hell. In the short time I’d known her, she struck me as a woman whose good opinion was worth having.
I set my fork down and ran a hand through my hair. I wanted to give her an honest answer, but also wanted to guard my own heart.
“Lay off, Patsy. The girl just got here.” I startled at the booming voice coming from the stairs off the kitchen. This had to be Harold, her brother. He took halting steps down the stairs, running his hand along the molding at the center of the wall. As he stepped into the light, I saw why and stifled a gasp. Harold Bonner had likely been a rakishly handsome man in his youth. He had a strong jaw, broad nose, and rough, tanned skin over hardened muscles. But, the most striking feature of all was the cruel, jagged scars running across his face in parallel lines. Claw marks, no doubt. His eyes may have been brilliant blue at one time; now they were opaque like pearls, and sightless. There could be no doubt what kind of creature made those scars. Those were wolf claws.
Pat’s scrutinizing gaze didn’t let up. She took in everything as I watched Harold. He reached across the table and extended a hand. He held it dead square in front of me, sensing my location as I spoke.
“It’s nice to meet you, Harold. I’m Abby,” I said. Pat raised a brow, and my mouth went dry. She hadn’t introduced me yet. She likely thought Bas or Callum had filled me in on the way. Of course she had no idea I’d seen both of their names on that deed in the courthouse.
“She’s a good one,” Harold said to his sister. Then he straightened and squared his shoulders in my direction. “Don’t let Patsy scare you off. She’s overprotective of our friends out there. Can’t blame her. They really do need it half the time.”
Pat swatted a hand toward her brother. He feigned real pain but reached down and kissed the top of her head. Then, he moved off toward the pan of fried chicken. Pat slapped her hands on the table. “Well, those boys don’t seem inclined to head back up to the house yet. You feel like going down to them? They’ll be at the lake by now. We can ride down. Do you know how?”
It dawned on me by “ride” she meant horses. “I’ll manage,” I said. One of my mother’s boyfriends had horses. That was Blake, I think. For once, I was grateful for her eclectic tastes.
“Buster and Ladybug are all saddled up,” Harold said. “You better let Abby take Bug. Buster’s ornery today.”
Pat excused herself for a moment, then came back wearing jeans and a flannel shirt. She grabbed a cowboy hat from a hook near the door and heaped another dollop of syrup on Harold’s plate of waffles before we left. He reached up and held her hand to his cheek. A moment passed between them that tore at me a little. Whatever history the Bonners had with the Wild Lake packs couldn’t have been easy. The price of it was literally written on Harold’s face. But, this place felt like sanctuary.
Pat gave Harold a playful smack on the back of his head as he reached over and poured even more syrup on his waffles. “Why don’t you just open up a line and clog your arteries directly?”
Harold shook his head. “Says the woman who just served me fried chicken.” I laughed. He had a point.
Pat made a circular motion with her hand and led me out of the house. The late April air was clean but brisk. As Harold promised, two of the horses had been saddled and tied off near the fence by the barn. Pat couldn’t be more than four foot eleven, tops. But, for her size and shape, she was fast and agile. She untied the reins, placed her foot in the stirrup, and heaved herself into the saddle. She ponied the other horse, a dappled brown, toward me.
“Ladybug, I presume,” I said, nuzzling the horse’s nose with mine. I’d palmed an apple from the kitchen and held it out for her. Ladybug nodded her head and munched the apple greedily.
“Oh, now you’ve done it. That old girl will follow you for life now.”
I patted Ladybug’s nose and heaved myself into the saddle. Pat clicked her tongue and got the horses moving down a trail winding behind the barn. She rode ahead of me. Ladybug’s surefooted movements led me to believe I wouldn’t have needed Pat as a guide.
“How long have you lived on this property?” I pulled Ladybug alongside Buster.
Pat smiled. “It’s been in my family for over a hundred years. My father left it to Harold and me. He passed on, oh, fifty years ago now. And when we’re long gone, it’ll still be here for the packs.”
I don’t know what I expected her to say. Maybe it was wrong of me to pry, but knowing what I did, I had to ask. “You want to leave it to Bas?”
Pat clicked her teeth to straighten Buster out. He seemed more inclined to root through wild strawberries on the path then move forward. “Not just Bas. Wild Lake is home to six different packs now. Bas’s is just the largest. This place is special. I’m not saying they don’t have their differences now and then, but you’ll never find a group of packs like them. Allied like they are, I mean. Not wanting to rip each other’s throats out. Most packs you’ll find are too territorial to roam or hunt on a stretch of land like this so close to each other. And I’m not saying they didn’t have to go through hell to get to this point.”
“Is that what happened to Harold?” As soon as I said it, it felt too blunt. But, Pat seemed in a talking mood.
She nodded. “That happened when he was a kid. Before my father died. During the pack wars. Harold got in the middle of something he shouldn’t have. The Wild Lake packs finally drove out the rival packs, pushed them further south. Every now and again, one of those southern packs will try causing trouble up here, but it’s not like it was. Thank the Lord.”
Puzzle pieces took shape and realigned in my thoughts. Where did Dale and his pack fit into all of this? If he belonged to a Wild Lake pack, did that mean this harmony Pat described was coming to an end? I wanted to ask her, but hesitated. If I probed her any more, she might start asking why.
We rode through a thicker part of the forest, down the hill until we reached a clearing. I gasped as I saw the lake ahead of us. Seeing it from the air was breathtaking; on horseback it was magical. Clear blue waters framed by deep pine. A large, rocky outcropping formed a natural ledge at the south edge of the lake. The scene would have been pristine. Now, though, whoops, hollers, and splashing cut through the air as Bas’s pack dove off the ledge and splashed through the water.
“Jesus H!” Pat called out. “That water can’t be any warmer than fifty degrees yet!”
I laughed. Alec stood at the edge of the ledge; he jumped, arcing high in the air, and his naked, muscled profile cut through the water and he disappeared below.
Bas rose up out of the water; fat droplets dripped down his chest as he came toward us. I blushed as my eyes were drawn to his sex. Pat just shook her head and clucked. Buster whinnied and reared his head, as if he were offended by the wall of naked men around him.
Pat pulled back on the reins and turned him. “I’d better head back up to the house. Those fools didn’t think to bring clothes or towels. They were probably planning on marching straight up to the house dripping wet and naked like that. You have no idea the war I fight not to have ‘em ruin my damn floors. You wanna stay here or head back up with me?”
Bas had almost reached us. My heart fluttered at his proximity. I laughed and gave Pat a salute. “I think they’re basically harmless. I’ll head up in a second to give you a hand.” She nodded and gave Buster a kick to get him going again.
Bas caught up to me and pulled on Ladybug’s reins. I leaned down to give him a kiss. Despite the chill in the air and the near frigid water, Bas’s lips were liquid heat.
“How about a swim?”
“No way. No chance. You want me to freeze my tits off?”
Bas laughed and wagged his brow. “I have a few ideas how to keep you warm.”
I swatted his shoulder. I thought about dismounting, but didn’t trust he wouldn’t throw me in the lake just for sport. “I like her,” I said. “Pat.”
Bas nodded. “I knew you would. She’s kind of made a career out of taking care
of us. This place is home base for the Wild Lake packs. It’s been that way for half a century since her father was alive.”
“She told me a little bit about it. She said she’s leaving the land to you and the other packs after she and Harold are long gone.”
Bas nodded. “That’s what she’s always said. And that’s the thing that’s got Congressman Foster twisted in such a knot. There are copper veins running all through this land. A lot of it’s state owned, but he’s thrown in with some people who don’t have our interests at heart. I know I shouldn’t be telling you all of this. But you need to know. Environmental conservation isn’t his goal.”
I swallowed past a lump in my throat. What Pat had told me was just a throwaway comment, but it cut to the heart of everything that tore at me. It became clear that Pat had no idea she didn’t have a claim on the land after her death. Which meant Bas didn’t either. Either she’d misunderstood her own father’s will, or there was something even more sinister going on.
I looked out at the lake. Aaron and Ben were wrestling each other on the ridge. It looked like Ben didn’t want to go back in the water, but Aaron had other ideas. Before they could sort it out, Davis came behind them, picked them both up by the scruffs of their necks and pitched them both in. Bas’s rich laughter vibrated through me.
Seth watched from the shoreline. Connor and Eli cut through the water, swimming with freestyle strokes at a speed that might set Olympic records. The rest of the pack watched and laughed, cheering one or the other on. They were at peace here. They belonged. The land and lake seemed to nourish them as much as the kill they’d made on the trip up.
“Abby?” Bas reached up, sliding his hand along my thigh. “What are you thinking?”
I let out a breath and smiled. “I was just thinking how wonderful it is watching the pack together like this. This place is kind of magical.”
He nodded. “There’s no place like it anywhere. At least not in North America. I’ve heard there are some European packs that live together like this. Not here, though.”