Snow Leopard's Lady

by Zoe Chant

  But she didn’t usually feel this sense of bubbly excitement. This idea that something wonderful might happen.

  It couldn’t be because of that Marine officer. That would just be silly—Mavis was a fifty-year-old woman, not a fifteen-year-old girl. She had a grown daughter and a failed marriage behind her. She shouldn’t be getting giggly over some handsome man.

  Particularly a handsome man who had an important job somewhere else. A Colonel in the Marines? He must be extremely busy deploying troops, or arranging supply runs, or whatever it was Marine Colonels did with their time. Approving secret weapon research. Something. He probably worked overseas, or in Washington, DC.

  An interesting friend to have, Mavis told herself. She’d had one nice conversation with him, and maybe she’d have one or two more, over the course of the wedding weekend. She could learn some things about his important job, maybe, and come away having expanded her horizons.

  They’d probably never see each other after this weekend, but in the future, maybe Mavis could say in conversation, I know a Marine Colonel who...

  That was a nice, reasonable expectation. Mavis nodded firmly to herself as she pulled in to Glacier and parked her car, going to meet with the rest of the group. A few interesting conversations. A distraction from anything else that might be going on in her life right now.

  She could use one, after all. Divorce was the sort of thing that weighed a person down, even if the relationship had been over for years and years.

  At the visitor’s center, a crowd of wedding-goers had gathered. Lillian had some extended family in town, all of the Park employees were going to come unless they had to work, and Cal had apparently been surprised by the number of locals who were excited to attend his wedding.

  Mavis knew that he thought of himself as a loner, but he was a good man who had made a lot of solid connections without quite realizing it.

  Nina was holding hands with Joel, her mate, up near the front of the group. Mavis went over to say hello and hug her daughter, still overwhelmed with joy that she could, anytime she wanted.

  Nina grinned at her and said, “I’m so excited for the hike. We’re going to see all the new spring flowers, and the little rabbits, and by the pond there’s the beaver lodge, and—”

  Mavis smiled as she chattered. Nina had been a talkative kid, but nowadays she was much quieter and shyer. Anytime she got excited and started going a mile a minute about something—usually the Park or Joel—Mavis felt a flush of happiness, remembering that little girl.

  Cal called everyone to order, and they started off. Mavis let herself fall back a bit, wanting Nina to be able to run ahead with the young pack members. She watched her and Teri, Lillian’s little sister, sprint ahead for a bit. Probably wishing they could shift, Mavis thought.

  She wondered, often, what shifting into snow leopard form was like. Nina had tried to describe it for her, but it was always clear that there was more than she could say in words. A whole other half of her, something beyond normal human experience.

  Mavis wished sometimes that she could share it with her. She knew that humans could be changed, sometimes, and she’d thought about asking Nina to do it for her. But it didn’t seem the sort of thing you should ask of your daughter—what if Mavis wasn’t meant for that life? What if she felt wrong, after? That would be an awful thing to burden Nina with.

  Besides, she was too old to start an entirely new type of existence. Fifty was surely past the point where you could take on a whole other half of yourself.

  “Hello again.”

  Mavis was startled out of her thoughts by the deep voice. She looked over to see Colonel Hanes—Wilson—coming up alongside her.

  Unlike last night, when he’d been wearing the dramatic and imposing Marine dress uniform, with its ribbons and insignia and red stripes, today he was wearing hiking gear. Mavis was caught by how warmly attractive he looked in a sweater and jeans. Much more approachable than the uniform. Even his salt-and-pepper hair looked a little mussed from the wind.

  “Sorry if I startled you,” he was saying. “I can go on ahead if you’d rather be alone with your thoughts.”

  “Not at all,” Mavis said quickly, again struck by his slightly old-fashioned, formal phrasing. Alone with your thoughts.

  It sounded a lot better than lonely middle-aged woman, that was for sure.

  “Good.” When he smiled, his eyes crinkled, little lines appearing at their corners. They weren’t visible at all when he was serious, and Mavis wondered if that meant he hadn’t laughed much in his life.

  Not that that was any of her business. After all, she had lines of sorrow carved into her face from years and years of a missing child, and she wouldn’t want a stranger asking her about that.

  Though something about the kindness and warmth coming from Wilson’s eyes...she didn’t know that she’d mind if he asked about her past. She had a strange feeling that he’d understand.

  He was looking out at the Park, his silvery eyes dark with some kind of emotion. “This is beautiful. You’re lucky to live so close.”

  Glacier Park spread out around them; they were walking through a valley full of early wildflowers, glacier lilies and forget-me-nots and trillium. Up on either side, the mountains swept up in a vista of snow-capped peaks. The air was cool and fragrant; Mavis inhaled the scent of spring with pleasure.

  “I am,” she said softly. “I moved here to be close to my daughter, and I’m so glad this is where she found her home, because I think it’s the most beautiful place on Earth.”

  He breathed in, too, and she could see his shoulders relaxing as he turned his face into the spring breeze. “I have to agree.”

  “Where do you live?” The way he looked—like he was drinking in the sunlight, like the sight of the mountains was nourishing him—suggested to Mavis that it must be somewhere in the city, away from natural wonders like this.

  “Washington, DC,” he said on a let-out breath. “It’s a necessary evil once you’re in a position like mine.”

  A necessary evil. “It sounds like you could use a break from it, with language like that.”

  He chuckled, but it seemed tinged with sadness. “It surely does, doesn’t it? I’m lucky this vacation came up when it did. And it’s been even more of a breath of fresh air than I’d thought it would be, back home.”

  Was it her imagination, or were his eyes lingering meaningfully on her as he said it? It must be her imagination; they were talking, after all. Of course he would look at her.

  “It must be important work,” she ventured.

  He waved a hand. “It’s mostly administrative. Not much to write home about. What about you, what do you do?”

  Changing the subject. Well, fine. Maybe she’d bring it up again later, see if he’d be more open once they knew each other a bit better. “I’m a financial advisor for small businesses.”

  His eyebrows went up. “That’s an impressive line of work. Valuable, I imagine.”

  “I do my best.” Mavis smiled at the thought of her clients. “A lot of people who go into business for themselves are experts at whatever their line of work is—sewing, or sales, or dance, or what-have-you—but don’t know a thing about running a business. I help them make the connection between their passion and the sort of revenue they need to keep doing it.”

  “That’s admirable,” he said quietly.

  It was strange. His phrasing was still a bit formal, a bit old-fashioned. But the depth of feeling behind it, the richness of emotion, was undeniable. When he said That’s admirable, she could hear the admiration coming from somewhere deep inside.

  “Do you find a lot of clients out here near Glacier?” he was saying.

  “Some,” she said. “Like I said, I moved here to be close to my daughter, not for the client base. But the people around here are the independent type. They like having control over their own lives. A couple of businesses have even opened since I arrived, because word is getting around that I’ll help them get star
ted.”

  A smile broke out on his face. “You’re helping build up the community. Making it possible for people to achieve their dreams.”

  The familiar excitement rose inside her at the thought of all of these individuals realizing that they could make it on their own, rather than working for big corporations. “I’m trying. Most recently, I met a woman who’s setting up a guide business at Glacier. She’s a shifter—a lynx—and she’d just been taking little guide jobs here and there, but word got around and now she’s in demand.” She shook her head. “She’s going to have to hire some people soon, because she’s the best there is—has been for years and years—and people are finally starting to realize that. Because now she has an actual business plan, with marketing and so on.”

  “And it would be more than worth it to hire someone who really knew the Park to show you around,” Wilson finished.

  Mavis nodded. “I’ve gotten an unofficial tour from my daughter’s friends—they’re rangers, after all, so they know it better than anybody—but not everyone has those kinds of fancy connections.” She grinned.

  He laughed. “Well, I see who I’m going to have to keep close to, if I want that kind of VIP treatment for myself.”

  “I’m sure Cal would love to—well, maybe not on his wedding weekend. But any of the other young men: Grey, or Jeff, or Zach or my daughter’s mate Joel.”

  Now Wilson was looking over at Cal. “I’m happy Cal found a pack,” he said. “He never talked much about his past—certainly not to me—but from his record, and his leave requests, it was clear that he’d gotten away from something he didn’t want to go back to. I always hoped he’d find somewhere to stay, and it looks like he has.”

  There was that depth of feeling again. The words were restrained, but Mavis could hear the layers of concern, of relief, vibrating in that deep voice.

  “Do you have a pack?” she asked tentatively, not sure if she was being rude.

  He shook his head. “I’m a bit of a loner. The military’s always been enough pack for me.”

  Mavis thought that sounded a little sad. But she didn’t really have room to talk, did she? She’d left all her friends, her husband, her hometown, everything. For the absolute best of reasons, of course, but she’d become a bit of a loner herself in the process.

  “I hope you’re enjoying catching up with all your old friends, then,” she offered.

  “What I’m most enjoying is making new ones,” was what he came back with. His smile was warm, and Mavis felt her cheeks flush with heat.

  This was silly. She shouldn't be blushing like a schoolgirl over a man's smile. Fortunately, her skin was much too dark to show it.

  In defiance of her own juvenile shyness, she lifted her chin and said, "Well, would you like a tour around the town? I'm afraid I'm not the expert in the Park that some of the shifters are, but I've been getting to know our little town over the last few months, and I could show you a few of the sights."

  His smile widened. "I'd love that."

  "Wonderful." Mavis kept her voice confident, but she suddenly wasn't sure what she'd gotten herself into. Showing this man around her small town? He lived in Washington, DC. He wasn't going to be interested in the diner where her daughter worked or the new clothing store Alethia, one of the leopards, had recently opened up.

  But the way he was smiling suggested that she might be wrong about that.

  ***

  Wilson hadn't expected to come to Glacier National Park for a wedding and meet a beautiful woman who wanted to show him around town.

  Stunning mountain peaks, certainly. Beautiful flowers, perhaps a moose or a bear for excitement. But a lovely, kind, intelligent woman like Mavis, who was offering to spend time with him? He hadn't expected that at all.

  Wilson hadn't made a habit of dating in the last several years. Back when he'd been an idiot twentysomething lieutenant, he'd enjoyed going out with girls, telling them fantastical stories about his time overseas—often with only the barest hint of truth in them—and showing them a good time at bars and clubs.

  But he'd grown out of that phase, as most people did. And once he'd reached the point of shaking his head at the young Marines who went out with three different girls during a 48-hour leave, he'd started leaving dating behind entirely.

  When he'd been deployed for long periods, it simply hadn't been an option. Nor had he wanted to come home to the States, start dating a woman, and then have to leave her behind again. Not to mention the real danger of serving in Iraq: no woman should have to deal with that kind of uncertainty in a new relationship.

  Or ever. But certainly not when they'd only been together for a couple of months in the first place.

  So he'd left dating behind, and become truly married to his job.

  And now that he'd met a woman who interested him for the first time in long, long time, he was wondering what it was that was catching her attention.

  Wilson knew the truth: he'd become something of a dull man. He got up, went for a six-mile run, went into work, looked at paperwork all day, came home, cooked himself something difficult to take up the evening hours, went to bed, and did the same thing the next day. He was not someone who offered any sort of thrills or excitement. His conversation these days was fairly limited; he didn't go out and see shows or go on long trips. He just lived his quiet, boring life. Sometimes on the weekends he’d drive out of the city, into the wilderness, get far away from any popular hiking trails, and shift into his snow leopard form and go for a run.

  But even that was rarer and rarer these days. It took hours to drive far enough from the heart of Washington, DC that he wouldn’t run into tourists or locals out for a hike. Sometimes it just didn’t seem worth it.

  He knew that people heard "Marine Colonel" and thought that that meant he was directing secret missions or meeting daily with the President or something ridiculous like that. The reality was much more prosaic.

  Still, apparently there was something interesting about him, because Mavis wanted to spend more time together.

  And he certainly wanted to spend more time with her. He admired her affection for her daughter, but also the drive and ambition—not to mention the intelligence!—she must have to work as a freelance financial advisor and be successful enough to support herself, even out here in the middle of nowhere. The pride in her voice was obvious, when she talked about her clients getting themselves set up as small business owners in a world that overwhelmingly rewarded big corporations.

  She cared about these people, it was clear. Wilson felt like he’d gotten used to the cold, number-crunching, heartless world of DC, where no one saw the faces of the people they were ostensibly serving.

  And looking at Mavis, with her careworn but beautiful face and her kind dark eyes, standing against the breathtaking splendor of Glacier National Park, Wilson suddenly had a hard time remembering why living there was a good idea at all.

  ***

  Mavis waited nervously outside of her apartment for Wilson to come by. He'd rented a car, and he said he'd come pick her up and they could drive around town, and she could point out local attractions.

  She didn't know why she'd offered to do this. What sort of local attractions did they even have? Her mind was a blank. All she knew for certain was that there was nothing like what you could find in DC.

  But it was too late to turn back, because a sleek little sports car was pulling up next to her, and she could see Wilson in the driver's seat. He leaned across to open the door for her, and smiled ruefully as she got in.

  "Sorry about the car," he said. "I thought since I was on vacation I'd pick something fun, but I wasn't banking on having anyone else in it. You're going to have to resign yourself to riding around in a midlife-crisis-mobile."

  Mavis laughed, surprised. "I like it," she said. "I've never been in a sports car like this before." She and Daryl had always had sensible middle-class cars.

  "We'll have to get out on the highway and open up at some point, then." W
ilson grinned, and there was a sparkle in his eyes that Mavis liked.

  "I'd love to." She looked around. "Take a left up here."

  Since she didn't have any tour guide maps, or any real knowledge of the history of the town, because she'd only been here eight months—what had she been thinking, volunteering to show him around?—Mavis stuck with what she knew.

  "There's Alethia's clothing store," she said as they went past. "Alethia's only been in town a year and a half herself, but she always wanted to own a clothing store, and so she got to work on it as soon as she moved here with her mate, Grey. She grew up poor and had to work hard to get nice things to wear, so she's working on making good-quality, affordable clothing available to local women."

  "Admirable," Wilson said softly, looking at the store. The front was cheerful, well-lit and inviting, with Alethia's favorite outfits displayed in the window. Mavis felt warmly happy every time she looked at it.

  "Alethia was a big help to my daughter when Nina first moved here," she told Wilson. "So I gave her a discount. She's got a big heart and a good head on her shoulders, and that's a combination you don't see too often."

  Wilson looked thoughtfully at Mavis. "No, you don't.”

  Mavis felt like that stare was looking right through her, somehow. She looked away and cleared her throat. "And, um, if you drive on down the road, you can see the hardware store. That place really needed some marketing work, because he bought the building from a chiropractor ten years ago and never bothered to change the sign."

  Wilson made a startled noise in his throat. "Really?"

  Mavis nodded, smiling. "Can you believe it? A hardware store with Gina Rossellini, Chiropractor on a big sign in front. But the locals just rolled with it for years, because they knew it was there, after all.”

  Wilson smiled. “Of course. Small-town life.”