by Tasha Black
greater good again and again. Even I know what he would want. And it’s not… this. The college won’t even be here anymore if you don’t stay.”
Ainsley hung her head. She couldn’t tell Carol her plan. She would have to bear it,
even though the spiteful words hurt most of all coming from someone who had known her all her life.
“I’ll help you outside,” she muttered and hoisted up a box of books.
Carol grabbed the other box roughly and marched down the stairs with it.
C H A P T E R
5
A fter what seemed like a lifetime, the two hours were over.
There had been so many snubs, so many lewd offers, and so many genuine
expressions of condolence that Ainsley couldn’t begin to recall them all.
The scent of too many people and wolves choked the house. She turned off the air
and opened the windows. They had even taken the fans, except the small one from her
room. She brought it downstairs and balanced it in the window.
The house was nearly empty. The wood floor was faded a bit leaving darker
rectangles where the oriental rugs had been. In retrospect she should have kept them for showing purposes. But it was easier for her this way.
The house already felt less like home without all that stuff. And she’d never, ever
have to come back after this. The stuff in her room ought to fit in her dad’s old Volvo, which she could drive back to New York and donate to Purple Heart.
The dust and cobwebs revealed by the furniture removal were driving her crazy. She
held her breath and prayed that no one had thought to grab the cleaning products out of the broom closet. A good cleaning would set her straight and make her feel better.
By some miracle, the broom closet was still full. She grabbed rags, Endust, Windex,
the mop and bucket and a bottle of Pine-Sol. By the time she was finished with the first floor it would look at lot less spooky.
As she cleaned, Carol’s words kept echoing in her head. It wasn’t fair – Carol didn’t have a life somewhere else. Ainsley was important in New York too. More to the point, she didn’t belong here – everything she touched here was ruined immediately.
There had to be another way. They were all so in love with this stupid little town but they weren’t willing to take it upon themselves to do anything. Couldn’t Carol see
Ainsley’s perspective at all?
And it wasn’t like she was going to leave the town high and dry. She planned to
choose Clive as alpha before she left. It would ensure the future of the pack. That had to count for something.
Ainsley suddenly wondered why she cared so much about the opinion of someone she
would never see again. No matter how she told herself none of this mattered, it did
matter to her – at least a little.
And crazy as that old woman had been in offering up her grandson, she had made a
good point. Would New York seem interesting to Ainsley after a week in Tarker’s Mills?
This town was small, but it would be hard for Ainsley to describe it as sleepy after all she had experienced in the last few days.
Success in New York was glamorous. But what did it mean?
Ainsley was alone there. Her only company was her competition. Who was she
succeeding for?
Her parents were gone, and if she was honest about her future she couldn’t see much
hope for a family there. It was hard enough to stop from being a wolf once a month. Now that she’d opened the door to the magic thing she had no idea if it could be shut again.
It wasn’t likely that she would meet a man who wouldn’t notice if she disappeared for a few nights every month and flashed blue lightning every time something pissed her off.
But thinking that way mainly begged the question – why had she sacrificed everything
all these years if it didn’t mean anything?
It was this stupid little town getting in her head - that was all. She just needed to get back to New York and everything would be right again.
She pulled her list out of her pocket and crossed off the first half of #1 Clean out the house & get it on the market.
One and a half items done – only three and a half to go.
Remembering the time, she hurried to finish cleaning so she could get ready for Clive.
A stab of anxiety pierced her.
What was she doing?
Would Clive find her attractive?
Could she really go through with this?
A cool shower and a beautiful new dress would help her feel confident and sexy. She
hurried to the bathroom to prepare.
C H A P T E R
6
Erik put down his machete and took a long pull off a gallon jug of water. The weather was too hot for taking down bamboo, but he needed to get his mind off Ainsley Connor.
Her mom would have known just how to get rid of the bamboo forest that was
encroaching on his house. Mrs. Connor had the best advice for anything to do with plants and trees. He guessed he could go to MacGregor but the new hardware store owner had
bigger fish to fry.
Erik shook his head in frustration. MacGregor was a fantastic beta – loyal and smart
and ready to hand down orders from above. But as a stand-in alpha he was miserable. He couldn’t make a decision to save his life. Erik wasn’t sure how much longer they could hold off the Federation.
He picked up the machete again and went to work. Bamboo fell to the ground with
every sweep. If he kept this up every day through the fall, he might be able to see the creek from his house.
Thoughts of the creek led him back to Ainsley again. He’d told himself he hadn’t
bought the house just because their childhood hideaway was part of its acreage. But if he was honest with himself, of course he had bought it for the tree fort and the cave and the creek.
On a whim, he decided to try and slash a path right to the creek. It was slow going.
He knew it wasn’t a sensible plan and he was wasting energy, but once the idea was in his head he was completely taken with it. It would be cool to have a path to the creek.
By the time he’d cut a narrow path about two feet deep, he realized it would be easier to just meander though the thinnest parts of the stand. The path would zigzag, but it would go faster. He picked up his pace as he hit newer shoots.
Two hours later he found himself at the bank of the creek. He put the machete down
and opened and closed his fists a few times. He knew he’d overdone it, but he’d been
possessed with a need to see the water as soon as he caught its scent.
Ribbons of sunlight filtered through the trees and reflected off the creek. The lush
smell of fresh water filled his nose. On the opposite bank the big sycamore with their old tree fort stretched out its branches to him.
The fort was actually up a little higher than before. The old tree had grown in twenty years. It was unbelievable that it was still intact at all – they had done a good job on the roof. He guessed their cave hideout below was probably just as they’d left it - plus a few critters.
Until today, it had been good enough to know it was his – that no one would rip down
the trees and build townhouses. With the highway coming in, wooded areas like this one would become more rare.
But thinking of Ainsley always made him think of this place.
She used to be a tomboy – not a fussy city girl. And she was the first to stick up for another kid, or to help anybody in need.
What had happened to his Ainsley to change her so much?
He had emptied the last of his water jug, so he leaned down and scooped a double
handful of clear water from the creek. It tasted brilliant after the store-bought, plastic flavor of the jug. He kicked off his
shoes and stepped into the water.
The cold water on his skin transported him back to a simpler time.
He and Ainsley played in the woods night and day with a whole mess of other kids.
From the beginning, he had been fascinated by her.
And then came the day that cemented their friendship.
C H A P T E R
7
A insley and Erik were in third grade.
A bunch of the fifth-graders brought a big rope out to the creek that day. Under the
direction of Clive, who was a leader in the fifth grade group, a few kids had managed to scale the sycamore and tie the rope around a thick branch about twenty feet off the
ground.
Clive announced that they were going to swing off the rope and into the creek. Erik
was on the branch with him. He’d been proud to prove his mettle by climbing the tree
with the big kids and tying on the rope. But he knew swinging down was a dumb idea.
The creek was only maybe three or four feet deep at its center. And there were sharp
rocks, branches and danger in every direction.
“Clive, that’s probably not a good idea,” he muttered.
“What did you just say?” Clive had asked, articulating each word and projecting his
voice out over the group.
“Clive, it’s a cool idea.” Erik tried to save face in front of the crowd. “But the creek is too shallow. You might get hurt.”
“Aw, are you afraid, Erik? Are you a baby?”
“No. But I’m not an idiot either.”
That garnered a nervous laugh from the other kids.
Clive was incensed. His ruddy cheeks went red, but there was a dangerous glint in his cold blue eyes.
“Erik Jensen, you’re such a brave little boy. You’re going to take the first swing and show everyone how it’s done.”
Erik realized his mistake too late. Clive was way bigger and stronger. And of course he wouldn’t like to be shown up by a little third grader.
Erik began to back up along the branch.
But Clive was too fast for him. He grabbed Erik by the front of his t-shirt and thrust the rope into his hands.
“You can’t do that, Clive, leave him alone!” Ainsley Connor squeaked from below as
she wiped her muddy hands on the front of her overalls.
Erik waited for other kids to join her, but they were silent. They were all too afraid of Clive to argue with him. Erik’s heart pounded in his chest. He fought to keep his balance.
Beads of cold sweat formed on his forehead.
“You will grab this rope and swing,” Clive whispered. “Or I will push you down. Your
choice.”
Erik took a breath. It would be better to go down with a rope than without. He took
the rope from Clive and headed toward the end of the branch.
The creek seemed impossibly far from the tree. Would he be able to swing out far
enough to reach it? And what were the chances he could hit the center where the creek would be at its deepest?
His head got lost in wild calculations. But Clive just smiled and bounced the branch
beneath him, like a springing diving board.
Erik grasped the rope as best he could, took a breath, and swung off the branch.
He flew through the air in slow motion, with time to mark the expressions of mixed
admiration and horror on the faces of the kids below.
When the rope was at the peak of its arc he let go. Impossibly, it seemed he was
actually over the center of the creek. As he fell, he allowed himself to hope that he wouldn’t get hurt after all.
The last face he saw before he hit the water was Ainsley Connor’s.
Erik’s heart nearly stopped when splashed into the ice-cold water. His feet smashed
into the rocky creek bed and his ankle turned with a sickening crunch. White-hot pain shot through his legs as he struggled to the surface.
He bobbed up with an expression that must have told them he was badly hurt. There
was total silence. And then one of the fifth graders yelled and they all started running off through the woods.
Erik was alone in the freezing water and his legs were burning in crippling agony. He knew he should be afraid but instead he felt tired. It was hard to remember how to keep his head above water when he couldn’t move his legs without excruciating pain. He shut his eyes for a second.
Then there was a terrific splash and a gasp.
“Hold on, Erik. I’m coming!”
Ainsley’s bright voice sawed through the fog of pain that was drawing him out of the
forest and into his own head. He heard her splashing through the water toward him, but he was too tired to look up.
When her face appeared before him he was struck by the seriousness of her
expression. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes wide.
How had he never noticed what a nice face she had?
“What hurts?” she asked.
He closed his eyes again and took inventory.
“Everything. My legs, especially my left leg.”
“I’m going to get you out of the water. Try to let your left leg float.”
He nodded. She sounded like such a grown-up.
“Wrap your arms around my neck.” Ainsley moved in front of him. “I’ll carry you until it gets shallow.”
Erik did what she said without thinking. She was so warm. He snuggled his face into
the back of her neck.
She pulled him through the water with surprising strength. He tried to keep his legs up but he was so tired and there were so many rocks waiting to bang his feet whenever he let them drift down. Finally they reached the shallows.
“I’m going to stand up. Try and keep your weight on me until we figure out if you can stand on your right leg, ok?” She smiled a too-big smile that gave away her worry.
He clung to her shoulders as she stood. The air hit his wet clothes and he started to shake.
Gingerly, he put some weight on his right foot. It throbbed in a sinister way, but didn’t give out. Encouraged, he put his left foot down.
A horrible grinding sound made him cry out loud. The pain was dizzying.
“Don’t put your left foot down,” Ainsley instructed. “I’ll leave you right here and go for help.”
“Please don’t leave me,” Erik said.
Ainsley sighed and looked around. All the other kids were long gone.
“Alright then. Let’s get moving.”
Very, very slowly, they made their way up the slippery bank. Ainsley had her am
around his waist and he leaned hard on her and kept his left foot off the ground. She was strong, but the effort was clearly taking everything she had.
After what seemed like an eternity, they came out of the woods at her back door.
“Moooooooooom!” Ainsley yelled.
Mrs. Connor ran out the back door, wiping her hands on her apron. When she caught
sight of the kids her face dropped.
“What happened?”
“He swung out over the creek on a rope and dropped in. I think he broke his ankle,”
Ainsley said.
Erik was eternally grateful to her for not announcing that he’d been bullied into it.
“Erik Jensen,” Mrs. Connor said, more concern than scolding in her voice. “I thought
you had more sense than that.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Connor,” he managed.
She stopped and looked into his eyes. Then she gave him a tight little smile.
“Well, let’s get you into the house. We’ll call your mom.”
She swooped him up in her strong arms and carried him in. Ainsley ran ahead and
opened the door.
Mrs. Connor set him down on the living room sofa and wrapped a throw around him
while Ainsley hovered close by.
“Ain
sley, go get my First Aid kit from the kitchen.”
Ainsley scrambled to the kitchen. Erik could hear her banging around in the cupboards.
“Let’s have a look at that ankle.”
The left ankle had swollen over the edge of his sneaker. Mrs. Connor carefully
removed his saturated shoes. He tried not to wince, but when she peeled his socks off he whimpered a little.
“I know that hurts,” she said soothingly. “We’ll have you fixed up in no time. I’m going to sing to you a little while I clean you up. It will distract you.”
Mrs. Connor began to sing, but what she sang he couldn’t say. It was a song and it
was not a song. The words were incomprehensible but images flashed in Erik’s mind as
she sang. He saw a lush forest, a sleeping dog, a snowy mountaintop, a man pouring a
creamy glass of milk for a waiting child, a peaceful lake, and a beautiful little girl knitting a blanket.
When she finished singing he looked down and his ankle wasn’t as swollen as he
remembered. It wasn’t burning anymore either - there was only a gentle throb.
“I know you’re hurt, Erik, but I want you to try and move your ankle now. Let’s see if you can move it.”
He squeezed his eyes shut tight anticipating the grinding pain. Mrs. Connor held his
left leg up and he moved his foot a fraction on of an inch.
He opened his eyes in disbelief and moved it again.
There was nothing. No grinding, only a sharp ache.
“That is a badly sprained ankle,” Mrs. Connor declared. “I’m glad you learned your
lesson.”
Ainsley flew into the room.
“I found the First Aid kit, Mom. Why didn’t you tell me it was out on the porch?”
“Oh, goodness, I forgot your father got a wasp sting in the garden the other day. Erik’s going to be fine, it’s just a bad sprain. Grab me the ACE bandage from in there, Ainsley.”
“Mrs. Connor, Ainsley was so brave,” Erik said as Ainsley mom bandage his ankle.
“She swam in after me and half-carried me here.
Mrs. Connor smiled down at Ainsley’s head.
“Is that right, Ainsley?”
Ainsley grinned at him and tucked a strand of wet hair behind her ear.
“You’re my friend, Erik, you’d do the same for me.”
Erik hoped she was right. But all the other kids had run off. Would he have been as