“We deploy tomorrow. This is your last chance to spend time with Mom and Dad.”
“Mom’s not even talking to me. She still blames me for your decision to enlist.”
Franklin scooted his chair away from his desk, folded his arms across his chest and arched his eyebrows.
Jonathan’s jaw tightened. “No one put a gun to your head and said you had to join up just because I did.”
Franklin balanced on the back two legs of his chair. “Someone has to keep you out of trouble until you get your head screwed on straight.”
Jonathan hated the way everyone assumed he’d enlisted on a whim. It might have seemed like an impulsive decision, but he’d given it plenty of thought. Franklin was the one that had taken a major detour from his life’s plan. Jonathan hadn’t even had a plan until he started talking to the army recruiter at school. “Seriously, Frankie, why’d you enlist? You know we won’t see much of each other once we get out of basic training.”
“We can hang out when we’re not on missions.”
Jonathan ignored the obvious dig. Franklin had been planning on going on a completely different kind of mission. They both had—until two years ago when Jonathan discovered the pleasures of beer, pot and girls.
Franklin never wavered from the straight and narrow path. He was a model Mormon, a poster boy for how to live a clean, boring life.
Jonathan tried to keep the path in sight; but he enjoyed his side trips too much to give them up. He’d repent later; when he was too old to have fun. “I’ll give you fifty bucks.”
“I’m not going to help you commit a mortal sin. And even if that weren’t an issue, I still wouldn’t loan you my sleeping bag. That’s just gross.”
“Where’s that fabric freshener stuff Mom uses?”
Franklin stood up and crossed the room then put his hands on Jonathan’s shoulders. “Don’t do this.”
Jonathan grinned and patted Franklin’s cheek. “Don’t worry about it, Frankie. You’re righteous enough for both of us.”
“It doesn’t work that way and you know it. And what about Carrie? If you really loved her, you wouldn’t even think about taking her virtue.”
“Jeeze, Frankie! I'm not taking anything she doesn't want to give. And I never said I loved her.” A twinge of guilt pricked Jonathan’s conscience. He’d already decided to drop the L-bomb if nothing else worked. He and Carrie slid into second base on their first date and rounded third more than once since then. But she refused to go any further, claiming she wanted to save herself for marriage. But after last weekend, there wasn’t much left to save. There was no way in hell he was going into combat as a virgin.
Franklin cleared his throat. “Are you going to be careful?”
“What do you mean?” Jonathan knew exactly what Franklin was asking but couldn’t resist the temptation to tease him.
Franklin rolled his eyes. “Do you have protection?”
Jonathan smacked his forehead with an open palm. “Oh man, I knew I was forgetting something. Do you still have that sample pack they gave out in health class last year?”
A deep crimson flush spread up Franklin’s neck, across his cheeks and over the tops of his ears. “I threw it away.”
Jonathan laughed and punched Franklin’s shoulder. “I’m just messing with you. Don’t worry, I got it covered. And, yes, the pun was intentional.”
~***~
The back seat of the Mustang wasn’t exactly ideal for a couple of virgins. Things were awkward enough without the added challenge of trying to seal the deal in such a small space. That’s why Jonathan decided to take Carrie out to his family’s old gold mine for a private tour. Dad was thinking of reopening the mine so he’d had it inspected. The first twenty feet was solid rock. It’d take a major earthquake to bring it down. They’d stay in the entrance, just deep enough to block the wind. The prospect of getting laid should be enough to keep Jonathan’s claustrophobia under control. It wasn’t the most romantic place, but it was private.
Jonathan would have sprung for a hotel room, but that would have been too obvious. Carrie liked to pretend that every bit of progress in their physical relationship was an accident. If she wanted to claim that they’d been swept away by passion and that neither of them had planned for it to happen, well, who was he to argue? He patted his back pocket to be sure the condoms were still there then grabbed the sleeping bag out of the trunk.
Carrie arched her eyebrows. “What’s that for?”
“To sit on. The ground inside the mine is really cold.” Okay, that was lame, but Carrie didn’t call him on it. She didn’t object when he led her inside the mine and unrolled the sleeping bag. She even grinned at him when he kicked off his Tony Lamas and crawled inside. Things were looking good. Jonathan unzipped it a little further and lifted the corner. “Wanna snuggle?”
Carrie giggled, stepped out of her dainty, little shoes and slid in next to him. He knew the drill. He had to kiss her and rub her back for at least five minutes before she’d let him unbutton her shirt. So far, so good. He fumbled around with her bra for another couple of minutes before realizing it was one of those Victoria’s Secret contraptions that fastened in the front. But how did it fasten? It wasn’t a hook. Should he ask her to help him out or just keep pawing at it?
“Jonathan, stop.” Carrie grabbed his wrist and moved his hand to her shoulder. But then she scooted closer, accidentally-on-purpose brushing against him.
Jonathan gritted his teeth and rolled onto his back. Carrie was driving him crazy. Her mouth said ‘stop’ but the rest of her was saying ‘go, go, go.’ It didn’t matter. He never ignored a girl’s request to stop.
Carrie nuzzled his neck and whispered, “You don’t have to stop everything. Kiss me.”
Jonathan hated this game. They’d been playing it forever during their on-again-off-again relationship. “I’m leaving for Camp Pendleton tomorrow. This is our last chance.”
“Don’t say that.” Carrie’s voice wavered.
Jonathan hadn’t meant to imply that he wasn’t coming back at all; but he might as well roll with it. “I don’t want to go to war without knowing what it’s like to be as close as two people can be.”
Carrie grabbed his face and crushed her lips against his, bumping teeth. She thrust her tongue into his mouth and groaned.
Ugh. Her TicTac must have dissolved. Jonathan didn’t want to ruin the moment by offering her another one, but jeeze…who orders roasted garlic on a date? He pulled his mouth from hers and nibbled his way down her throat.
Carrie froze. Her entire body stiffened beneath Jonathan’s.
What now? He hadn’t even unhooked her bra yet.
She pushed him off and sat up. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” He trailed his fingers up her spine onto her shoulders and tried to guide her back into his arms.
She grabbed her blouse and clutched it to her chest.
Great. It had taken him thirty minutes to get the damn thing off of her. If she put it back on, he might as well give up and go home.
Something growled.
The sound came from deep inside the mine. Okay, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. Jonathan slid out of the sleeping bag and fumbled around in the dark for his flashlight.
He directed the beam into the tunnel. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Is that a wolf? The animal was freaking huge; black with a diamond shaped patch of white fur between its glowing, blue eyes. Blue? Didn’t wolves have yellow eyes?
Carrie whimpered and clung to Jonathan’s arm, jiggling the flashlight.
Jonathan lowered his voice to a whisper. “Move slowly and go get in the car.”
“I’m scared.”
“I can’t protect you if you don’t let go.” Jonathan kept his voice low and spoke slowly. “Just back up nice and easy and walk to the car.”
Carrie finally let go then turned and ran out of the mine, shrieking like a banshee.
Jonathan snatched a rock off the
ground expecting the wolf to give chase. It didn’t. It bared its teeth and growled at Jonathan.
“Oh, you want a piece of me, do you? Well, come and get it.”
The wolf crept closer, growling and snapping its teeth.
Jonathan aimed at the diamond patch between its eyes and hurled the rock.
The wolf yelped then collapsed on the ground.
Jonathan backed out of the mine then turned and walked to the car, fighting the urge to run as he watched over his shoulder.
He was almost there when the wolf staggered out of the entrance. Moonlight glinted off its sleek, black fur. Foam dripped off its canine teeth. Was the animal rabid, or just pissed?
Jonathan grabbed the door handle and gave it a yank, but only managed to rock the car. Are you kidding me? He pounded on the hood. “Carrie, unlock the door!”
Nothing. The wolf crept closer.
Jonathan peeked in the window and found Carrie curled up in a ball with her hands over her face. He picked up another rock.
The wolf looked over its shoulder into the mine then turned and bolted into the forest.
Jonathan dropped the rock and knocked on the window. “It’s okay. The wolf’s gone.”
Carrie finally popped the lock.
Jonathan slid behind the wheel. “Why’d you lock the doors?”
“I was scared.”
“Of what?” Jonathan couldn’t believe she was that stupid. “Wolves don’t have opposable thumbs. It wasn’t going to open the door and climb in next to you.”
“I’m sorry.” Carrie turned on the water works. Her shoulders shook as she sobbed.
Jonathan pulled her close and pressed her head against his shoulder. He hated it when girls cried. “It’s okay. We’re both safe.”
Carrie fisted his shirt in her hands and clung to him.
Maybe the night wasn’t a total bust after all. Nothing could jump start a make-out session better than the fear of dying.
“You wanna get in the back?”
Carrie sniffed and nodded her head. “Can you get my shoes? I left them in the mine.”
“Can’t we get them later? There might be more wolves in there. They travel in packs.”
“Those are Coach shoes. I just bought them yesterday.”
“Fine.” He might as well grab his own boots and sleeping bag while he was at it. “But this time, don’t lock the door.”
Jonathan picked up another rock, just in case, and headed toward the mine.
An earth-shaking blast knocked him to the ground. He covered his head as dirt, splintered wood and small rocks rained down on him.
What the hell? Was that a bomb? So much for getting laid.
River
River kissed the white speckles on Sugar’s muzzle that had inspired the mare’s name. She’d never seen the substance, much less tasted it, but Reuben had. She shifted her gaze to his face. “How’s she doing?”
Reuben frowned and shook his head. “The foal’s breech. Scrub up.”
Reuben moved to the left, making room for River. “After the next contraction, I’m going to push the foal as far forward as I can. I need you to reach in there and see if you can find a foot.”
River slid her hand in beside Reuben's.
“Here we go.” His face reddened as he pushed. “Trace the hip all the way down the leg until you find the hoof.”
Reuben had already ruptured the amniotic sac, so it was relatively easy for River to follow his instructions. “Got it! Now what?”
“Cup the hoof and fetlock in your hand to protect the uterus then guide the foot through the pelvic opening, into the birth canal.”
River was afraid of hyperextending the foal’s joints, so she hesitated.
“Don’t worry about hurting the foal. It’s probably dead. We need to save your mare.”
River hated to lose the foal, but she’d raised and trained Sugar herself. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing her. She gritted her teeth and forced the foal’s foot into the birth canal. As soon as she let go to grab the other foot, the foal jerked its leg back into the uterus. “Hey!”
Reuben chuckled. “Looks like I wrote her off too soon.”
“Her? How do you know it’s a filly?”
“Only a female would be this stubborn.” Reuben tilted his head towards the steaming bucket of water in the far corner of the stall. “Grab a couple of bandages and tie slip knots in the ends.”
River resisted the urge to wipe her hands on her apron and used a sterile pair of tongs to pull the strips of fabric out of the scalding water.
She had to wait for the bandages to cool and for Sugar’s next contraction to end before she could try again. This time when she got the foot into the birth canal, she positioned the looped end of one of the bandages above the fetlock and tightened it like a noose then repeated the procedure with the left leg.
Reuben pulled his hand out and grabbed one of the cloth strips. “You take the other one and when I say ‘go,’ pull back and down as hard as you can. Don’t stop until the foal’s all the way out.”
“What if Sugar stops contracting before we get it out?” You were supposed to work with the mare’s body, not against it.
“The umbilical cord is going to be pinched closed before the head’s delivered. This little one’s not out of the woods yet.”
River followed Reuben’s lead and wrapped the end of the cloth strip around her wrist three times then across her palm twice before tightening her fist.
Reuben nodded and grinned at River. “Pull!”
As soon as the shoulders were delivered, a gush of amber liquid poured out of Sugar. Reuben wrapped his free arm around the foal’s upper body and lowered her to the straw-covered ground. Reuben had guessed correctly. The foal was female.
River dropped to her knees. “She’s not breathing!”
Reuben slid an arm under the foal’s flanks and lifted her rear into the air. More of the amber liquid poured out of her nose and mouth. The filly coughed and wheezed then shook her head and looked right at River.
She didn’t want to risk the foal not bonding with Sugar, so she resisted the urge to pet her and joined Reuben on the other side of the stall. He pulled a sterile bandage out of the bucket and started wiping the muck off his upper body. “What’s her name?”
River’s lips parted in a grin. “You want me to name her?”
“Without your help, she wouldn’t have made it.”
The filly was sired by Reuben’s prize stallion, Thunder. She had a blaze on her forehead shaped like a lightning bolt, but Gabriel’s horse was already named Lightning.
“How about Thunder’s Storm? We can call her Stormy.”
Reuben smiled. “I like it.”
River’s chest swelled with joy as she watched Stormy scramble to her feet for the first time. “I’ll never get tired of witnessing the miracle of birth.”
Worry lines creased Reuben’s brow and deepened the wrinkles around his eyes. “I need to talk to you about something.”
River couldn’t think of anything she’d done recently that warranted a lecture. Especially not after helping save Stormy. “Am I in trouble?”
Reuben chuckled and shook his head. “I want to discuss your future. Let’s go to the cleansing pools. We can talk about it while we soak.”
River was eighteen, old enough to force a merge. Hannah had been on bed rest for months with a difficult pregnancy. Reuben refused to use a whore or servant girl to meet his needs.
River’s mouth was suddenly so dry she couldn’t swallow. She knew what this was about. Reuben was going to ask her to mate with him.
~***~
The trek to the cleansing pools was only a twenty-minute hike, but River’s heart hammered in her chest as if she’d been running for hours. She’d known this day was coming ever since Reuben had first claimed her five years ago. She’d dreamed of becoming his beta and bearing his children. She was nervous about mating, but merge fever would change that. Maybe he’d already trapped a
wolf for her.
When they got to the cleansing pool, Reuben unlaced his vest. “Did you hear the wild pack howling last night?”
River nodded. This is it.
“I told Gabriel to set a couple of live traps this morning.” Reuben peeled his shirt off then dropped his hands to the rawhide ties on the front of his breeches.
“Oh?” Surface dwellers like River and Reuben were accustomed to nudity. She’d seen his naked body hundreds of times, and he hers. There was no reason to be self-conscious.
“Most women your age have already merged.”
“I know.” River turned her back and untied the laces of her vest with shaking fingers.
By the time she was undressed, Reuben was already half submerged, arms stretched out like eagle’s wings on the smooth stones bordering the cleansing pool.
River trembled as she descended the steps into the hot mineral water. She took her usual seat, across from Reuben…and waited.
Reuben closed his eyes and slid lower, resting his head against the boulder behind him.
River chewed on her thumbnail as she studied her soon-to-be mate. He was a blacksmith, as well as an enforcer, so he kept his hair trimmed short and his beard shaved. Even relaxed, his muscles bulged as if straining under a heavy load.
Reuben’s lips parted, releasing a soft snore.
River squeezed her fist and squirted a stream of water at him.
He jerked awake and blinked then swiped the water off his face. “What was that for?”
“You said you wanted to talk to me.”
Reuben sighed then stared at her, as if deciding how to broach the subject. Was he nervous? Surely, he knew that she’d be honored to accept his offer. Besides, Reuben was Zebulon’s son. He could take any woman he desired, whether she agreed or not—except Reuben wasn’t the sort of man to take a woman against her will, even if it was his right to do so.
River rested her chin on her knees and held her breath. She turned her head, just a little. Exposing her neck. If that didn’t encourage him, nothing would.
River's Recruit (The Sanctuary Series) Page 2