by D. M. Turner
Ian turned from the window, hands clasped behind his back. “Yes. I couldn’t stay and put them at risk. I had the same concerns you had when you first came here, that I’d hurt my family. That aside, I knew what would happen if someone else found out what I was. People would’ve acted out of fear.”
She frowned. “Some things don’t change, do they?”
“Society changes, grows more busy every day. People get more disconnected. Things that were once accepted are now considered evil. Those things that were once well-understood to be evil are now celebrated. Technology advances at a staggering, frightening rate, but one thing remains constant.”
“God?”
He chuckled. “Okay. Make that two.”
“God and what?”
“Human nature. It never changes. I’m reminded of that every time I read the Old Testament. People don’t change.”
Tanya nodded, her expression sorrowful. “Did you ever see your parents again?”
“No. I wrote to them when I could. When I was actually in one place for any length of time, I let them know so they could write back. That was rare though.” He lowered his tall frame into his chair. “I was in Nevada working as an interpreter between the US Cavalry and the Shoshone Indians when I received word that my mother had died. A few months later, my father passed as well. The letter from one of my older brothers telling me of it was the last contact I had with any of my family. He also sent me all the letters I’d written home during the War Between the States. Figured I’d want them.”
“I’m sorry.”
He sighed. “It was a very long time ago.”
“But it still hurts,” she murmured, her eyes filled with sympathy.
“Sometimes.” He nodded and smiled.
“And the wolf that Turned you? Did you ever find out who he was?”
He shook his head. “Best I can figure, he was a new Turn who never figured out how to return to human form. That drives a man mad. That used to happen a lot more than it does these days. We used to have to figure things out for ourselves.”
She shuddered. “Makes me more delighted than ever for you and your son.”
He smiled.
Tanya gathered her notes. “I better get back to the house. Duncan will be hungry soon, and Colin will pace the floor until he knows I’m there to tend to it.”
Ian chuckled. “It does him some good to fret once in a while. He has it too easy with you for a mate.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” She leaned down to kiss his cheek. “But I love you more for saying so.”
He watched her go then listened for the purr of her car’s engine until it disappeared in the distance. Then he opened the lowest left-hand drawer of his desk and pulled out a thick bundle of papers tied together. He’d kept every letter his parents had written to him. As he looked at his mother’s graceful script on the topmost envelope, he could almost catch her scent off of them. Almost, but not quite.
“I miss you both, more than you will ever know,” he whispered.
1895: Purpose
Tucson, Arizona
February 1895
IAN IGNORED STRANGE looks from people as he walked up Main Street without any particular destination in mind. Having just arrived in town, he wanted to familiarize himself with the lay of the land, so to speak, before the sun went down. He had no interest in conversation about his attire. Indian buckskins and moccasins were easy to replace when they wore out, particularly when a man didn’t have money. Why buy something when he could make it himself? If folks didn’t like it or found it odd, that was their problem.
If he hadn’t been itching for human contact, he’d have stayed in the desert alone, where he’d been the better part of the past year. He’d missed his Indian friends in the north, but he’d gotten tired of the cold and risk of frostbite during often-harsh winters. The mountains north of Tucson were more temperate and served host to an abundance of wildlife, plus there were places that offered decent shelter. As long as he avoided hunters and miners, life was good. Mostly.
Unfortunately, the wolf longed for companionship. Not an easy thing for a werewolf to find. He didn’t fit in the human world. Neither did he belong with wild wolves. Thirty years of living as an outcast weighed on him at times. He couldn’t seem to convince the wolf that some desires and dreams were futile. Such as those for a home, wife, and family.
He turned a corner to wander further, staying near enough to buildings to be out of the way of horses and wagons, but not so close as to run into or step on anyone exiting stores. A woman leaving a mercantile took one look at him, grabbed up the little girl walking at her side, and scurried in the other direction. He glanced at his reflection in a window and shook his head.
With a scowl like that, she probably thought you wanted to eat the kid.
Not to mention how barbaric he looked with that scraggly red-tinted beard and untamed, long, dark blond hair. Downright uncivilized.
He forced his face to relax and moved on. He needed to find work in exchange for room and board. A night or two should satisfy the wolf’s need for company so he could slip back into the desert again. Nobody out there cared how he looked.
Minutes later, as Ian headed back toward Main Street, he saw a small child toddle out of a church and into the street. Right into the path of a wagon. The driver looked around like he’d never seen a town before and apparently hadn’t noticed the little boy he was about to run down.
Ian bolted across the street, snatched up the boy, and carried him to safety just as the wagon barreled past. The startled child stared up at him with wide eyes then burst into tears. Ian winced as the wail threatened to pierce his ear drums. Where was the wee one’s mother?
“Thank you so much!” A man raced out of the church. “I turned around for one minute, and he was gone. The driver of that wagon wasn’t paying a bit of attention, was he?”
“No, I don’t believe he was.” He handed the child over.
“Thank you, again.”
Ian nodded once then headed down the street.
“Wait up just a moment.”
He glanced back and partially turned, head cocked in question.
“Are you new in town? I don’t recall seeing you before.”
“Just arrived.”
“Do you have a place to stay tonight?”
“Not yet. I’m looking for work actually, to earn my keep while I’m here.”
“Well, why don’t you come home with me? I’d be happy to feed you tonight and give you a warm place to sleep in way of thanks for helping my boy.”
Ian hesitated. That sounded more like charity than gratitude, but he couldn’t afford to be picky, unless he wanted to spend a chilly night in the desert as he had the night before. The cold wouldn’t bother the wolf, but a wolf so close to town would surely stir up trouble. Rifle-toting kind of trouble. He smiled and nodded.
“I’d be much obliged.” Then, to be sure his acceptance wasn’t mistaken for freeloading, he added, “You wouldn’t happen to know anyone in need of an odd job or two done, would you? All I ask is a bed and food in exchange. Just for a couple of days or so. A week at most.”
“As a matter of fact, my wife and I need work done at our place. My salary doesn’t allow for me to pay someone, and I’m afraid I’m not as handy as I oughta be with such things. Perhaps they’re tasks you can do. We’d certainly be able to feed you and give you a place to sleep.”
“It’d be worth a look.” Ian nodded. He glanced down at himself. “We might want to stop at a watering hole so I can bathe. I don’t want to scandalize your woman with the smell or dirt I’d be bringing with me otherwise.”
“She was raised with brothers in a farming family. It won’t bother her a bit, so you can bathe at our place. Come on.” He started down the street, the wee one perched on his hip. “By the way, the little troublemaker is Nathaniel. My name is Randall Benton. Randy, to most folks.”
“Ian Campbell.”
“It’s a real pl
easure to meet you, Ian Campbell.” He shot Ian a sly grin. “By the way, are you acquainted with Jesus Christ?”
He chuckled. “Not in a good long while, I’m afraid. My momma used to read the Bible to us, but I ain’t seen one in a long time.”
“Well, now, that’s something we can certainly rectify while you’re here.” Randy rounded the corner and, a few paces later, turned into a small yard. A short walkway led to the front porch of a quaint little house. He stepped through the front door far enough for Ian to enter behind him. Ian shut the door as the pastor set his son on the floor.
“Randy?” A pretty blond woman peered around the doorway across the room. Her smile went from curious to welcoming as she took in her husband and then their guest. To Ian’s surprise, she didn’t appear the least bit surprised, ruffled, or intimidated by his presence or appearance. She emerged from the other room, wiping her hands on a small towel. “You found a new friend, I see.”
Nathaniel ran to his mother, who scooped him up and nuzzled him. He squealed and squirmed but threw his arms around her neck.
“Ian, this beautiful creature is my wife, Madeline. Sunshine, this is Ian Campbell. He just arrived today.”
“Very nice to meet you, Mr. Campbell.”
Ian dipped his chin. “Likewise, ma’am.”
“He’s looking for work in trade for room and board. I thought I’d show him the work that needs doing with the house. See if it’s something he can do.”
“That would be wonderful. Dinner won’t be ready for another fifteen minutes or thereabouts, so why don’t you take him around.” Her smile was warm when her gaze shifted to Ian again. “I’ll be sure to keep you fed up.”
“Thank you, ma’am. Hopefully I can tackle what y’all need done.”
The needed work turned out to be things Ian could do, much to his relief. Too bad he couldn’t thank his father for having him work alongside him throughout his childhood. He’d learned more than he’d realized. That knowledge allowed him to eat the evening meal without a nagging conscience. After the meal, he leaned back in the chair at the table. “Thank you, ma’am, for a wonderful meal.”
“You’re most welcome, Mr. Campbell.”
He shifted his gaze to Randy. “I’ll start on the roof in the morning. I should have it done before day’s end. For now, I could really use some sleep.”
“You’re welcome to the sitting room. We don’t use it much anyway, and there’s a wood stove in there.”
“That’ll do just fine. Thank you.”
* * *
Ian went straight to work the next morning, stopping only for a quick lunch before going right back to work. Storm clouds on the horizon crept closer with the threat of rain. The scent of it drove him to work that much harder. The roof had leaked before he started. With part of it exposed for repairs, it would be even worse. Unacceptable.
Thankfully, rain never manifested, and the roof was done by dinner. He surveyed the finished roof with satisfaction. His athair would be proud.
“How’s it going, Ian?”
He peered over the edge of the roof at Randy, who shielded his eyes from the sun to look up at him. “Just finished. Would you like to take a look?”
The pastor climbed the ladder high enough to get a good look at the roof. “Incredible. Except for the color difference between old and new, no one would know what’s repair and what’s pre-existing.”
Ian chuckled. “My father was a very particular man.”
“It appears his son inherited his strong work ethic.”
The praise pleased him. He’d earned his keep for the day. He could rest assured of that. “I plan to start on that new chicken coop tomorrow.”
“Madeline will be thrilled.” Randy backed down the ladder. “She’s been losing eggs to some critter or another. Losing a handful of hens to a thieving coyote was the final straw. She wanted me to hunt it down and shoot it.”
Ian followed the man down the ladder, laughing softly. “That would only be a temporary fix at best. You kill one and another will expand its territory. You’d be right back where you started from. I’ll build that new coop and make sure it’s secure against any critters that might have a mind to steal eggs or hens.”
He tucked the tools he’d used in a box on the front porch then followed Randy into the house and to the kitchen to wash his hands. The scent of roasting chicken made his mouth water. He’d watched his food intake, so he didn’t give himself away. When he left town, he’d have to hunt down a deer or something more filling. The amount of food a regular human ate wasn’t nearly enough for a wolf, but it’d do for a few days as long as he didn’t get seriously injured.
Dinner was a relaxed and quiet affair, except for the chatter of little Nathaniel. Ian stared at his plate rather than watch Randy’s young wife feed their son. Envy kept him company enough. He didn’t need to feed it by pining for what he couldn’t have.
“Ian, do you have anyone special in your life, hiding away somewhere?”
He forced himself to swallow and not choke. Had the pastor picked up on his thoughts? “Uh, no.” He cleared his throat to remove the frog that had suddenly taken up residence.
“Never?” Mrs. Madeline’s eyes widened.
“’Fraid not, ma’am.” He half-smiled and shook his head. “I realized a long time ago that God only bestows such blessings on men far better than me. Like your husband here.”
Randy snorted. “I’m no better than you, Ian. I have my failings, just like every man alive. You’re a good man.”
“There was a time I thought so.” He lowered his gaze to the empty plate and folded his hands around it. “That was a long time ago.”
“What changed your mind?”
How could he explain without giving away too much? “God rains judgment and wrath on an evil man.”
Randy’s brows shot up. Mrs. Madeline frowned.
“I’ve had too much happen to me to deny I’m under God’s judgment.”
“What is it you think you’ve done to deserve such?”
“I don’t rightly know. I’ve tried to figure that out for a long while. I’ve even asked God about it, but He hasn’t deigned to answer the likes of me.”
Randy shared a knowing look with his wife then glanced back at Ian. “Job.”
“Who?”
“Job. From the Bible.”
“What about him?”
“All manner of evil befell him, and his friends thought the same thing you’re saying. That he had to have sinned to deserve such judgment from the Lord.”
“And?”
“They were wrong.” Randy got up and left the room, returning shortly with a book in hand. He laid it on the table, dropped back into his chair, and opened the book with reverential care. “Job lost his children, livestock, servants, and home, then his health was taken from him. All he had left was a nagging wife who told him to curse God.”
“Did he?”
“No. Point of fact, he didn’t. He fell into a state of despair, which I think any of us would do under those circumstances, and lamented the very day he was born, but he refused to curse God.” Randy skimmed the page before him. “The arrival of his friends made his despair worse instead of better.”
Ian frowned. “What good are friends like that?”
Randy chuckled. “I’ve often wondered the same thing.”
“So, Job hadn’t done anything to deserve judgment?”
“No. In fact, the whole thing started with the Lord declaring Job to be a righteous man. Perfect, the Bible says.”
“Then why’d He let all those horrible things happen to the man? Shouldn’t He have blessed him instead or, at the very least, protected him?”
“Ah, but there’s the crux of it. Job’s friends, and Job for that matter, believed that the Lord judged the wicked and blessed the righteous. So if bad things happened to a man, he must be wicked. If he prospered, he must be righteous.”
“Sounds reasonable.”
“According to huma
n understanding perhaps, but the Lord used the situation to teach Job a very valuable lesson. Something that King David saw and wrote about in the Psalms actually.”
“What’s that?”
“The wicked prosper, and the righteous suffer.”
“But why? How does that fit with the concept of God being just?”
A pleased grin brightened Randy’s face. “Ah ha! That’s what Job is about!” He pointed to the page in front of him. “Do you know how the Lord answers that?”
Ian shook his head.
He set a finger on the page and read from it. “Where wast thou when I laid the foundations of the earth? Declare, if thou hast understanding.” He slid his finger further down the page. “Hast thou commanded the morning since thy days?” Randy glanced at him with a smile.
Feeling more than a little dense, Ian frowned. “Which means what?”
“The Lord created everything, knows everything, sees everything. He knows the end from the beginning, the Bible says.”
“Alright....” Confusion grew.
“Do you have that same understanding and insight? Were you there when He laid the foundations of the world? Did you help do that?”
“Most certainly not.” Ian shook his head.
“That’s the point. The Lord created everything with a mere thought. He’s outside time and space. In the same instant, He sees our lives from conception until the moment of our death. He knows how we will react to everything that could and will happen in our lives, to the people around us, to events, and He uses those things to help us learn, to shape us into the people He desires us to be. If we cooperate with His efforts, anyway.”
“And if we don’t?”
“We grow bitter, angry, depressed, despondent.” Randy shrugged. “It depends on the person really, but those are the most common results I’ve seen.”
Hm. That could explain the hateful attitudes of quite a few people he’d known in his lifetime. “Did Job get past the despair?”