Forget Me Knot

by Melissa Glisan

  Red had no sooner settled into his bed cradling the phone when Lora appeared with a box. Without a word she deposited it by the door and left. It had been so long since he’d heard Celena’s voice that he ignored his family and concentrated on her usual entreaties to come and help. He let her ramble on, as he normally did, thinking about all the other calls where she provided tidbits of information she had learned about his unusual shape-shifting family. He wondered idly if she’d read every book ever printed the way she could go on about all this arcane crap, then he remembered, that was exactly what was needed. Red wasn’t sure who was more astounded when he invited her assistance.

  Mind still reeling after the phone call, he had walked cautiously over to the box and opened a package of misery and pain that never should have been hidden. For the first time in the memory of his kind, he’d managed the shift to wolf without waiting twenty-four hours.

  The same stomach wrenching pain of that night ripped through his heart and mind as he stood staring at the porcelain perfection of Celena’s face.

  Hands jammed in his pockets, Madden simply glared up at her from the bottom of the stairs. Celena felt her stomach twist and burn, she wished she could dig out her bottle of stomach tonic and take a healthy swig, but as tired as she was it would knock her on her behind. The last time she had seen Madden she passed out at his feet, a repeat performance was not needed. In fact, the original performance had been utterly unnecessary.

  He looked too good to stand there glaring. Too many days, nights and long boring afternoons in classes, boardrooms and laboratories, she had found her mind slipping back to his ready smile. By the look of the lines between his brows, he hadn’t smiled in a very long time.

  Swallowing back the tang of guilt, Celena moved away from Ashley to the top of the stairs, and whispered, “Madden?”

  Moving incredibly fast, he ended on the step below her, Celena schooled herself not to flinch away. Standing nearly nose-to-nose, she had forgotten how he wasn’t very tall, five-foot eight-inches to her diminutive five-foot two-inches. It never seemed to matter; Madden always seemed the biggest, baddest guy around. That hadn’t changed. Her body ached to move that half-inch closer and lean against the heat of his body, but it wasn’t her right. Remember! Be in control of yourself, be confident!

  Instead she caved. “I’m so sorry that you don’t smile anymore.” Without thinking, her thumb swept up and eased the tightly creased skin of his brow. “Your smiles were always home for me.” His hearing was keen, so she risked the whisper, knowing it reached only his ears. But she couldn’t help but startle when she felt his fingers ghosting along the back of her pleated skirt, up the backside of her thighs and around to rest a moment just above her wrist bones. The slide of his hands on the outside of her jacket was enough to raise goose flesh on the untouched skin of her arms. His T-shirt emphasized the heavy musculature of his arms and shoulders, a scant second before pulling her into the safety of his embrace as his fingers drug through her hair cupping her back.

  “Don’t be sorry.” Madden bumped his nose softly against hers, nuzzling closer as his breath fanned across her cheek. Of all the stormy receptions she’d dreaded, being in his arms like this was more like a secret dream held in her heart. “Are you okay?”

  “Uh huh.” Her mind stumbled along in a haze of warmth and her tongue went numb. It was amazing how fast buckets of intelligence went out the window from just being in his presence. Unbidden her hands cupped his face, fingers sliding into the thick hair she’d fantasized about since high school. Oh stars, her mind hazed over completely at the sleek silky feel of his hair.

  Lips brushed hers and she gasped, following his mouth, enrapt by his dark spicy scent flowing past her nose. A gentle pressure along her back and she sagged forward, forgetting to breathe as the long, hard length of him seared her from knees to breasts.

  “Maybe they should get a room,” Ashley’s soft words jolted Celena and she jerked, sealing her mouth against Madden’s. His lips were firm and hot, drugging, as they closed on her own making her forget about the others, the stairs, or the cold. Her world narrowed to the taste of maple syrup on his lips as his tongue gently swept against her own. Her heart raced so hard and fast that the dark behind her eyelids spun crazily and for a giddy moment she couldn’t care less--if she died now it would be in joy. But as much as her heart rejoiced another part of her body woke and decided that more would be better before leaving good old terra firma.

  “Red?” a strange female voice called from the doorway, and Celena pulled back, refusing to look away, hoping against hope as she stared into his burning gaze that the woman wasn’t a friend or worse, his wife. “Why don’t you bring your lady in out of the cold and introduce her to everyone. I’m sure we’d all like to meet her.” Madden shifted and dropped his arms to her waist pulling Celena even closer. Stars and stones, her eyes widened in astonishment, was that him digging into her belly?

  He roughly cleared his throat. “Meet you guys inside in a few, Lora. Celena and I need to talk.”

  ****

  A gentle rap at the door to her office pulled Flora’s attention from the picture. Normally it hung on the back of the greenhouse door where she could look at it as she worked. It served as a reminder of the love she shared with her sisters Cora and Lora, and of the gap between them. Pretty, blonde and perfectly matched Cora and Lora in their satin prom gowns, bookends adorning the slightly shorter, decidedly less feminine, dark Flora in her wacky protest dress.

  Prom was always the biggest event of senior year, Lora and Cora were normal in how much they looked forward to the event, picking out matching dresses in slightly different shades, Lora in peach and Cora in mint. Lora had her hand claimed by the class valedictorian, and Cora a little more outgoing, the lead actor from the school drama company. Flora just didn’t get the excitement.

  “Why blow hundreds of dollars on a dress you’ll never wear again, for a dance with dates you really don’t care about?” She had argued. Normally their parents didn’t push Flora into attending school dances or functions, respecting her individuality. But when it came time for prom, she swore her mother flat out lost it. Dragging her odd-duck daughter to the attic, and the shelf of family photos Candy Daniels cheated, pulling out an album sporting a large picture of her with her sisters Mandy and Sandy, all demurely linking their arms at their prom. Then there was the older picture of Grandma Eda with her sisters, Ida and Ada.

  Stifling in the hot attic, Flora hadn’t wanted to point out the obvious, but given the fanatical gleam in her mother’s eye, she had to. “That’s nice and all Mom, but you and Nana and the rest are identical. You don’t have an ugly duckling.” Flora detested that book growing up because everyone insisted on reading it to her in hopes of making her feel better about being different.

  “It just isn’t fair,” she sniffed, putting the picture on her desk. A part still admired her hard won right to wear the god-awful camouflage print dress. But it was no solace for her heart ache. Lora and Cora always knew when the other was hurt or sad; they could even finish each other’s sentences. Flora felt like an afterthought until Marc came along. He was the wedge that split the dynamic duo, and Cora left for college in a huff. After a few years things resolved but it wasn’t the same, Lora had Marc, and for once Flora found she had a sister to talk to as Cora stalked off joining first the Peace Corps and later as a volunteer nurse with Doctor’s Without Borders.

  Opening the door to the outside, Flora was surprised to see Lupercus and Ashley. They weren’t exactly arguing but Ashley wasn’t looking happy with her arms crossed and impatiently tapping toes.

  “Please my love, just this one small thing before we go, it is not wolf business.” He smiled charmingly down, and Flora felt a spot of envy. If a guy ever looked at her like that…well aside from the Asian kid in high school who stood a full head shorter, she’d probably be just as greedy for his undivided attention.

  “On one condition,” Flora almost felt bad for Luper
cus seeing the devilish glee lighting Ashley’s serene smile, “your brother thanks you by taking care of your hell hounds.” Flora couldn’t help it, she laughed at the look of shock on Lupercus’ face at the thought.

  “But, Mars--”

  “But nothing mister, the minor furry demon and the galloping lump stay with Frank, he’s earned his dues.”

  “Here-here,” Flora cheered, stepping back, welcoming the pair into her office. “It’s warmer in here if you want to iron out a certain male’s punishment detail.”

  Lupercus sighed and shook his head sadly.

  “Thank you, no, we are long supposed to be gone, but for Frank’s making a mess of things, both with you and with Red.” That got Flora’s attention; she peered past the newlyweds and spied a non-bloody, still breathing, hang-dog looking Frank Horne standing on the snowy walk.

  “Couldn’t have pissed Red off too bad, he isn’t bleeding.” She observed.

  “Not for a lack of trying.” Ashley grinned and sounded like she was sharing the joke but her eyes spoke otherwise. Flora had a split second to wonder what he’d gone and done now when the reason for the visit smacked her upside the head.

  “Some things can’t be unsaid,” she nearly yelled at Lupercus, “so don’t even drag his sorry ass in here for apologies.”

  Tired green eyes considered her, and Flora wondered after the fact if yelling at the Wolf Lord really was such a bright idea. The hell with it, she gave up and went with being as angry as she wanted to be, he hadn’t bitten the heads off of anyone since she met him, and usually he aimed Red at folks for that.

  “Yes, normally I would have my alpha deal with such things, but today this is impossible.” Reading minds should be impossible she grumped to herself. Probably both he and his wishy-washy twin had a good long laugh at her stupid hurt feelings.

  “No, never.” Lupercus walked in and lightly held her shoulders. “I will not look to hear in your mind what was said, but I feel your pain and suspect that his words were ill fashioned. You are also right, words cannot be unsaid, but he can atone for your injury.” Smiling, he stepped back, “My Lupa is correct, perhaps a week of watching my friends will remind him of his humble origins.” To his credit, Frank didn’t even twitch at the news he’d been drafted for a week of dog duty.

  “Little augur, I wish I could see into your future and say that you will find what you seek, or even if it is to be found. But I can hope that you will look past this morning and work with the others to find the answers to the Faust woman’s puzzles.” He winked and leaned to whisper conspiratorially in her ear, “You see, I made this promise to leave all of this in Red’s lap to solve or my Ashley would have left me.”

  Flora reared back in shock. Now that was love, that or he stepped in it in a massive way. Looking at the guilt on his face she suspected the latter. No one ever spilled all the details on what happened the night Ashley left and returned with a small group of starving female wolves cuddling a lone pup. Puppy!

  “What about Blaz?” Ever since Ashley carted the small wolf pup home, he’d been stuck to her heels like a burr. Construction trailers had been placed on the farm between the Silvestri and Daniels grounds. The reclusive odd-ball Vanner Stang had found a new lease on life as the caretaker of the fledgling wolf orphanage. “Is he staying with Vanner?”

  “No, he’s coming with us,” Ashley replied. “We just need to stop at Vanner’s and pick him up, shots this morning.” Arching a brow at her husband Ashley wondered aloud, “I’m starting to think that maybe someone had an ulterior motive in Blaz needing injections the morning before we left. This isn’t just an excuse to talk with Dr. Tomas SaoBria?” She pinned Lupercus with bright blue eyes.

  “If a word of wolf business is uttered, my love, you set the penalty.” He bowed genteelly. Ashley grumbled something under her breath that sounded very much like an unladylike “bet your ass,” that Flora judiciously chose to ignore.

  Walking out into the cold sunlight, Flora escorted them to the step and couldn’t help but ask after the young doctor. With a full moon coming, it wasn’t impossible for the man-wolf clan to stay in human shape but the lunar tides made resisting the call hard. Without his wolf pelt, the young doctor wouldn’t survive the transformation, all thanks to the handiwork of the bitch Laura Faust.

  “He is doing well,” Lupercus answered, with a small wince under Ashley’s glare. “But he will do much better once everyone begins working together.” The last was a firmly voiced reminder to Frank who managed to appear appropriately contrite.

  “Make sure Frank takes good care of mio cucciolo.”

  Flora nodded and watched the pair leave, feeling suddenly awkward being alone with Frank Horne.

  She studied the ruined leather of his shoes. Snow wasn’t exactly the best thing for butter-soft imported leather, but what should he expect wearing clothes ill-suited to country living? Shoe staring was also safer than looking at his face.

  “May I come in and speak with you?” he asked without moving forward, a good thing. Clutching her elbows bracing her forearms against her stomach she nodded and stood to the side, waiting for him to pass, but he didn’t.

  “You really don’t want me inside do you?” His voice was gentle, and she hated him for knowing it.

  “I don’t see any need to talk if you’re going to read my mind instead of waiting for me to know it myself.” Feeling bitchy, she made herself meet his gaze. What she saw was surprising; he appeared to have aged a decade in the last hour. There were marks on his face and rips to his expensive clothes so something clearly happened after he left her shop. Spite made her add, “You don’t feel the cold anyway, why bother letting the heat out?”

  “Perhaps for your comfort? I may not feel the cold, but you do.” He pointed out.

  “If you cared a damn bit about me and my ‘comfort’ I’d fall over dead from the shock,” she snorted. It wasn’t her intention to make him smile but he did a sad twisting of the lips.

  “You would be surprised at what I care about Ms. Flora Daniels. Right now I care that you are cold.” He reached out and cupped her elbow, and Flora stilled with shock. His hand was incredibly warm, radiating heat up her arm. ‘Act first think later’ was her motto in more ways than one. Reaching out she touched the hand that was reaching for the door to the greenhouse and her chilled fingers smarted under the heat as feeling seeped back into the frost nipped digits.

  “How do you do that?” She marveled, not a little jealous.

  “Flowers are delicate in the face of winter,” he smiled down, “they have a strength that is admirable, but the cold touches them deeply.” The fast blaze of heat in his gaze proved Red more than right, he was interested. Confused and not a little off balance, Flora pulled away and ushered him into her office.

  Frank picked up the picture Flora had obviously been crying over, the glass had some streaky smudges and not a few dirty fingerprints. Aside from her hours in the kitchen preparing meals, she always managed to have dirt somewhere on her body or clothes. There was a time, he remembered fondly, when nothing was better than playing in the dirt. His blood was definitely up remembering all the lusty fertility rites of spring he’d been more than happy to indulge in when Europe was still young. But that had been so very long ago. Looking at the feisty teenager in the ugly dress, he imagined that the lovely woman pacing behind him felt the passage of years as he did.

  “I truly am sorry for what I said.” The words didn’t surprise him, but the fervor of them did. The happy blonde girls looked at ease, but the dark haired minx looked miserable despite the gamine smile. “Despite our differences, Lupercus and I have always understood one another implicitly.” Gently he returned the photo to her desk and met her fey furious eyes head on. “Even when he defied the gods and took a human as his mate, we were brothers first.

  “I mocked you when I shouldn’t have. You’ve never felt that bond with your sisters, and you should have.” He turned and leaned against the sturdy oak desk. “You didn’t c
hoose to be different; they chose to treat you that way.”

  “Quit reading my damned mind,” Flora snarled at him.

  Damn, he loved her fire, the way her eyes brightened, the gold and violet strands of color almost glowing in her striated eyes, almost like being spat at by a furious orchid. He’d spent too many years in a concrete jungle, he missed the flowers.

  “Believe it or not I am not reading your mind, I don’t need to.” Frank turned and picked up the picture and held it up for her to see. “Here I see two girls who agree on everything, from their hair to their shoes and I see a third who wasn’t afraid to be her own person, but wanted nothing more than her sisters’ support, not their obliging smiles for the camera.” He watched as she sniffled a little and blinked back tears.

  Human tears never moved him the way they did others. It fascinated him how most males drove themselves silly simply because a female shed tears. Crying was a necessary evil, a healthy one at that. But he did feel the weight of having verbally punched her in a sore spot.

  “I would apologize for telling you the truth, but you seem very fond of plain speaking.” She gave him a watery smile that he had to respond to. Even with her eyes leaking, she was fascinating. “You smell like flowers and soil, I like it.” Where the deuce did that come from? It was an idiotic thing to say, but Flora’s wet laughter pulled his mind away from dwelling on the reasoning.

  “Horny old goat,” she sputtered, and his mood darkened.

  “Does everyone know? Is there like a message board up somewhere?” he demanded, but she just stood there, jaw drooping eyes wide and round.

  “Know what,” she asked in a quiet voice.

  “You know perfectly well if you’re going to insult me with Pan references.”

  She gave him a decidedly odd look. “I didn’t say anything about cook pots.”