by Linda Wisdom
“Jake?”
“Jake—in his shirt-sleeves, now there’s a happy thing. He’s chopping wood for Mrs. Benedict and it looks like Mr. Chalmers is supervising. Although it seems the couple have some additional ways of stoking up a fire.” She quickly explained Jake’s revelation about Mrs. Benedict and Mr. Chalmers’ love life.
Stasi broke out into a broad smile. “I’m so glad! They’re really meant for each other. I think it’s wonderful that they’re still able to express their love.”
“Then Mr. Chalmers should be out there showing off his muscles and chopping that wood.”
Blair settled back to enjoy the sight of the smooth play of muscles as Jake swung the axe, turning the wood into neat kindling while the elderly man stood nearby. She knew she could easily eavesdrop on their conversation, but chose not to. It was simple enough to see that Mr. Chalmers was talking about what he could accomplish “back in the day.” She didn’t miss that he held a biscuit gleaming with butter in one hand. The elderly widow was known for her sourdough biscuits, and there was no doubt she had been baking that morning. According to Mrs. Benedict, her starter originated from an ancestor’s sourdough starter back in the 1800s. Blair’s mouth watered for one of those warm-from-the-oven biscuits.
She straightened up when Jake finished stacking the kindling against the side of Mrs. Benedict’s cabin and shook Mr. Chalmers’ hand. He paused at the back door, obviously to say something to Mrs. Benedict, and then left carrying a cloth-covered plate in one hand.
“I’m off.” Blair hopped to her feet.
Stasi opened one eye and nuzzled her dog. “The witch is on the prowl.”
“You got it.” She stopped in the apartment long enough to apply a dab of coral lip gloss and a spritz of cologne as well as to pull a fleece jacket out of her closet and tie the sleeves around her waist in case the air started to grow chilly.
“Just act casual,” she reminded herself as she headed for the rear path that would take her past Jake’s two-story, A-frame cabin.
When she reached the outskirts of his property, Jake was coming out of his cabin, talking on his cell phone. Judging by his dark expression, he wasn’t happy with whatever the person on the other end of the line was telling him.
“Yes, I know that,” he growled, as he crossed his backyard. “And I’m out of it. I have been for years. The best thing you can do for both of us is to not contact me again.” His mouth worked as if he was coming up with some prime cussing. “I’ve said my piece. For once respect it!” As he turned toward the rear building that housed his workshop, he saw Blair standing nearby. “I’ve got to go.” He slapped his phone shut and stuck it back on his belt. “This isn’t a good time, Blair.”
She sensed that his irritation and the weariness that lined his features had nothing to do with his chores at Mrs. Benedict’s. And while his greeting wasn’t a “hi, good to see you, sit down a spell,” she made no move to leave.
“I was just talking a walk.”
“When you take a walk, you go out by the lake.”
She was pleased that he remembered. “A witch has been known to change her mind now and then.”
“Not you. You never change your mind about anything.” He stopped by the workshop but didn’t reach for the lock.
“I did with the dog,” she said softly. “I even let him sleep on the end of my bed.”
Jake combed his fingers through his hair, allowing the shaggy strands to settle back in their haphazard way. He leaned against the building with his arms crossed in front of his chest. Still not a welcoming move, but he wasn’t ignoring her, either.
Blair didn’t miss that his dark eyes scanned her length of bare leg. She was glad she hadn’t changed into jeans, even if by now the sudden drop in temperature meant that her legs were starting to turn an unattractive shade of navy. She untied her jacket and shrugged it on, zipping it up. There was no use for the rest of her to turn blue.
“And I don’t even like dogs all that much,” she continued.
A brief uplift of his lips showed he wasn’t entirely impervious to her words. “You must have a soft spot, then.”
“Only for the moon-challenged, although I guess I’d have to say that’s not truly you, is it?”
“Like I said, family background.” The minute he said that he looked as if he’d regretted saying even those two words.
Blair wasn’t one to ignore any opening. “You never talk about your Pack. Are they Border Collies too? Yorkies?” she prompted when he didn’t reply. “Pugs? Did you try to herd them and they didn’t like it?”
A short bark of laughter escaped Jake’s lips and he looked down, shaking his head. “It’s not like that, Blair.”
“Then what is it like? What’s so wrong with telling me? Is it some big secret, that if you told me you’d have to kill me?” She winced a little. “Hm, scratch that. We won’t look at it that way, ’kay? It’s just that I want to know.”
Jake’s head shot up. Anger darkened his eyes. This time the anger was well and truly directed at her. “Why do you have to be such a nosy witch? What is so important about me that you have to know every facet of my life? Can’t you understand that I might like to keep some things private?” He straightened up and walked back to the house, entering the rear door and closing it with a final click.
Blair shifted from one foot to the other. “So I guess that’s a no on discussing your family tree?” she called out, not expecting a reply and not receiving one. “Some people were just brought up not to share,” she muttered, heading back to her house. “See if I talk to you at the town meeting tonight, then.”
***
Jake stood at the kitchen window and watched Blair walk away, the toes of her boots scuffing any rocks in her path. Tiny spots of magick sparkled over her head, which he took to mean she was thinking way too hard and her temper was simmering. A part of him hoped she’d look back, while another part of him hoped she wouldn’t. He knew his words hadn’t made her happy, but he needed to say whatever it took to get her to leave before the fury that was eating like acid deep down inside him bubbled up and out. Before he pulled her into his arms so he could reacquaint himself with her spicy taste and the slender curves of her body. Before he could give in to the side of him that wanted even more from her than he knew he could give her.
“Trust me, Blair, the last thing you want to know is anything about my family tree,” he murmured, turning away.
Luckily phone calls from the family were few and far between. They always made him uneasy and this one was the worst of all, because his mother had called him again insisting she needed to speak to him. He’d already broken one cell phone because of his temper, and he refused to do it again.
As far as he was concerned, it was same old, same old. He must return to the Pack. Why, when he’d been doing just fine on his own, thank you very much. Didn’t he understand he needed the Pack as much as they needed him? Why did he need a group that had always made a point of telling him they didn’t need him? The Pack believed in all for one, one for all. That included him. Not the way he saw it.
“Fuck that,” he muttered, spearing his fingers through hair that hadn’t seen a comb since he showered and dressed that morning. He started to wonder if that coyote was in the area and ready for another go-around.
Once upon a time the Pack, and his own family, hadn’t cared what happened to a whelp that was considered nothing more than a stain on the Pack. Punishment was often and brutal to the youngling who didn’t understand why he wasn’t like the others. He was a throwback to an affair several generations back; a reminder no one cared to have around because he was considered a weak link.
As he grew older, Jake saw no reason to stay and left before he was tossed out of the Pack. While Pack Weres normally preferred to stick together, he quickly discovered he could do just fine on his own. After all, a Border Collie didn’t exactly go big game hunting. While Pack members gloried in working together to bring down a deer, he was content with
catching the occasional rabbit or squirrel and just roaming the woods.
And once he visited Moonstone Lake a few years ago, bought his cabin, and built his workshop, he knew he’d truly come home. He had done odd jobs around the town, worked on projects in the workshop that brought in the majority of his income, and wasted no time in noticing a sassy, red-haired witch. But then, who wouldn’t notice Blair, with her flair for the eccentric and warm manner that included hugs for all? Not just her love of the eclectic, but the sheer color she seemed to bring into everything she did. For someone who’d been brought up in a world of black and white, he had first found her amusing; amusement quickly turned into fascination, and that later turned into something else, as he started to see the world as she did, in brilliant color.
Blair’s warm, loving touch was a part of her sharing nature and held a sincerity he’d never encountered before.
Avoided as being different, cut off from the warmth of his Pack’s social interactions, most of Jake’s experience with touch had involved either discipline or sex, as he grew up and had the occasional hook-up. Blair had complained long and hard about the dog, but there’d been many a night he’d woken in the middle of the bed with her hugging him like a stuffed animal. He was always happy just to go back to sleep.
Here he wasn’t treated like a worthless Pack whelp. Here he wasn’t treated like the bottom of the heap.
Here he was treated fairly and kindly. And that’s all he wanted.
His nostrils flared, catching one last hint of Blair’s perfume.
Well, maybe not all.
Chapter 5
“Time is short, but that’s never stopped us before,” Agnes enthused from the front of the town hall. “And I know you all will help make this the best winter carnival yet.”
“My feet are freezing,” Blair said under her breath.
“Floyd’s already talking about bringing up a bond issue to cover the cost of putting a new furnace in here,” Stasi whispered. “Ted over at the hardware store said it’s cheaper just to invest in electric socks and wear more layers.”
“Not if the socks short out every time you wear them.” Blair shifted in her chair, which felt like concrete under her butt, then glanced over at Jake sitting a few rows away. He hadn’t looked her way once, but she knew deep down that he was aware of her because she could feel it. Why is he frowning? She started to lean forward in her chair when he did, then she caught herself and leaned back. She had no doubt something was bothering him and even more certain that his mood had nothing to do with her.
“You’re drooling again,” Stasi said under her breath.
“No, I’m not.” No way I’ll drool over that grouch. I should go out and find me a nice big Werepanther who can kick his canine ass. She scanned the room, trying to see what was upsetting Jake, because apparently there was something in the room he wasn’t happy about. But looking around didn’t send up any red flags for her.
“And now let me introduce the new owner of Snow Farms Resort, Roan Thorpe,” Agnes’s voice cut into Blair’s thoughts and brought a scowling Jake upright in his chair.
Blair looked up at the stage at the tall man striding to the podium. His midnight-black hair seemed to hold a silver sheen under the lights.
“Ho boy,” she muttered.
“Hubba hubba,” Stasi added with a broad smile.
“You’re taken,” Blair reminded her sotto voce.
“Yes, I am and very well done, if I do say so myself, but that doesn’t stop me from looking.”
It only took another glance in Jake’s direction to see his anger level rising even if he was holding it under control admirably. She should have guessed right away.
“This guy’s a Were! And if I’m not mistaken, Jake not only knows him, but I’d bet my favorite spell book that they have some history,” she whispered for Stasi’s ears only.
Stasi’s head swung around so fast she almost suffered whiplash. “What?” Her squeak came out louder than expected. She turned to the front of the room and took a longer look. “Oh boy, you’re right—that’s one powerful Were up there, and I don’t think he’s a Werepoodle, either.”
Blair nodded. “Not even close. Look at Jake—I’d swear steam is coming out of his ears.” She scrunched down in her chair a bit as if trying to avoid what she expected could be some Were fallout. “This isn’t good.”
“We’ve already had not good. We need all good now.” Stasi offered up an apologetic smile when the woman seated in front of her turned around and frowned at her while mouthing please be quiet!
Blair turned her attention from the man standing at the podium and concentrated on Jake, who was looking grimmer by the second. She was positive that Jake and the new owner of Snow Farms Resort were familiar with each other, because every so often the man would look directly at Jake and each time he did, Jake scowled back. It didn’t take long for the answers to start clicking in. Roan Thorpe must be part of Jake’s former Pack. Her stomach knotted up so much she wondered if she’d be able to eat anything ever again. She turned her attention back to the speaker before she did something stupid—such as stand up and demand to know what the Were had done to Jake. After all, she had no right to do such a thing.
But she was sure going to find out what was going on.
Witch on a mission.
The minute the meeting was over, Blair jumped out of her chair and headed for the coffee urn, where Agnes was steering their guest. She knew she wouldn’t get any answers out of Jake, but that didn’t mean she might not find out something from Roan.
She had to admit the Were was in the hot category, with his carved features and dark hair, but she could also easily sense his untamed side. This was no happy-go-lucky dog of any kind. She was positive Roan Thorpe was the kind of wolf Little Red Riding Hood would have wanted to avoid at all cost, because he’d snap her up without a second thought. Luckily, Blair wasn’t wearing her red hooded cape and her grandmother had been gone for many centuries.
“And here’s our dear Blair and Stasi,” Agnes chirped, as she handed a cup of coffee to Roan. “They’re always so generous with their time when we have our town activities.”
“Blair Fitzpatrick,” Blair said, holding out her hand. The minute Roan’s large hand engulfed hers, she felt the Were magick wrap around her skin. She made sure to respond with a little power surge of her own and inwardly smiled as he straightened up and shot her a considering look.
“Stasi Romanov.” Stasi did the same with a more polite smile than Blair had been able to muster.
Agnes beamed at the threesome and left them when someone called her name.
“So you’re the town witches,” Roan murmured.
Blair’s smiled remained fixed. So, it’s going to be like that, is it?
“We don’t see ourselves that way.”
His dark eyes surveyed her in a way that would have had her hackles rising if she’d had any. Oh wait a minute, that was more his thing.
“So in your own way, you’ve pretty much ruled the mountain all these years, haven’t you?” His voice may have been soft, but they easily heard each word.
“More like protected the land,” Stasi retorted. The lawsuit against her last autumn had resulted in more than Stasi’s finding the love of her life in Trevor Barnes, wizard attorney: gentle Stasi’s snark level had risen and she wasn’t above using it when necessary.
“Just as my kind do.”
“Except we don’t go all hairy every full moon and chase rabbits and squirrels,” Blair offered with a broad smile.
Roan’s dark narrowed gaze warned her he didn’t like her flippancy. As if she cared.
“It’s a well known fact you witches love to court trouble. Never tease a tiger, Witch Fitzpatrick. You’ll get eaten.”
“Then aren’t I lucky you’re not a Weretiger?” She smiled, an innocent expression on her face. “You know the limerick about the lady from Liger?”
While his smile might have appeared warm to a casual observer
, the fury simmering in his eyes told the witches a different story before he moved away.
“I take back the hubba hubba.” Stasi nibbled on a Snickerdoodle.
“Ditto.” Blair refilled her coffee cup and surveyed the array of baked goods, finally settling on a brownie. She needed chocolate… bad.
“Don’t toy with Roan.” Blair almost dropped her brownie when Jake seemed to materialize before her.
“Then you do know him.” She was positive she spoke the truth, but she still wanted some verification.
Jake’s mouth tightened to a thin line. “You might say that—since he’s the Pack leader’s heir apparent.”
“He’s what?!”
“Close your mouth, Blair, before you attract flies,” Stasi suggested softly. “And as for Roan, let me say he’s not a very nice Were, even if he is apparently our new neighbor.”
“If Roan’s here, that means the Pack isn’t far behind.”
Blair’s mind whirled madly. “Most of this mountain is protected. We made sure of that years ago.”
Jake shook his head. “That won’t stop him, or the Alpha.” He looked up and faced the Were across the room, who returned his gaze. Jake drew so close to Blair, she could feel his heat.
“Uh, Jake, you’re giving out mega vibes that pretty soon everyone here will sense,” Blair whispered, as he bumped up against her. “Are you trying to herd me?”
“If I thought it would do any good, I would,” he snarled.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Her glare could easily have blasted a hole through him.
Jake’s jaw flexed. He took a deep breath and looked off in the distance. “Roan Thorpe is also my brother.” He turned away and headed for the door.
It took Blair a moment to recover as she picked her jaw up off the floor. “Stasi, tell me he did not say that Roan is his brother.”
“I can’t, because that’s exactly what he said.”
“Roan’s wolf, so how can Jake’s Were half be dog? There is no way he can drop a bombshell like that and just leave,” Blair fumed.