River's Recruit (The Sanctuary Series)

by Abel, Charlotte

  He knows. Jonathan didn’t know how Reuben figured it out. River hadn’t had time to wash her hair. Maybe she smelled like straw, or horses, but she spent more time in the stable than she did in the house so that wasn’t it. Could he smell Jonathan on her? No way. He was just guessing. Or fishing. As long as they didn’t act guilty, he’d never be able to prove anything.

  Jonathan scraped the last bit of egg off his plate with a biscuit. He felt Reuben’s eyes boring into the back of his head as he carried his dishes to the kitchen trough. He needed to distract the man.

  “Hey, Reuben, have you ever thought about setting a metal rack in the bottom of the trough to hold the dishes in place while the water flows over them?”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Instead of holding the dishes in the stream with your hands, you could just set them in the rack and let the water do all the work.”

  “It’s not that hard to wash them by hand.”

  It is if you only have one hand. “You could divert the cold water for fifteen minutes and sterilize the dishes without fear of getting scalded.”

  “Hmmm… you might have something there. Draw me a sketch of the rack and I’ll see what I can do.”

  Jonathan had only meant to get Reuben’s mind off his suspicions. Getting a steam-punk version of a dishwasher was a bonus.

  River joined Jonathan at the kitchen trough. She nudged him with her elbow and whispered, “When you’re done with your drawing, meet me in the hay barn.”

  “Are you sure?” Jonathan didn’t want to arouse even more suspicion.

  “I have something I want to show you. It won’t take long.”

  Jonathan followed Reuben to his office and scratched out a rough sketch of his idea then ran outside to find River. The sun peeked over the eastern rim just as she stepped out of the hay barn.

  Jonathan’s heart stuttered. His appreciation of River’s natural beauty had grown exponentially since the day they met, but her radiance in the morning light stole his breath.

  River grinned and waved when she spotted Jonathan. “I have something for you.”

  Jonathan blinked then lowered his gaze from her face to her hands.

  She handed him a long, narrow sack made of buckskin. “Here, you hold it so I can untie the case.”

  Jonathan had already guessed what was inside, but when he pulled the longbow out of the bag, his mouth fell open. The wood glowed amber in the sunlight, its surface so highly polished it sent refracted sunbeams dancing across the snow covered ground.

  “I carved and wrapped the grip extra thick so you can use your golden claw to hold the bow. Here, try it.”

  Jonathan centered the bow’s grip inside the pincers of his prosthetic and pulled his arm towards his body. When he felt what he judged to be the right amount of tension to hold the bow steady, he pressed the correct pin to lock everything in place.

  “I made a bow stringer so you can do it yourself.” River handed him a cord made of plied sinew; a small leather cone attached to each end. She slipped the cones over the tips of the bow. “Let the stringer hang down to the ground and step on it, right in the middle, then pull the bow toward your chest.”

  Jonathan was surprised by how easily the bow bent.

  River slipped the loop of the bowstring into the notched end at the tip of the bow then removed the stringer.

  “You don’t even need a wrist guard.” River smiled and tapped the leather cuff that made up the socket of his prosthetic hand.

  The easy and natural way River accepted his disability warmed Jonathan’s heart. “This is beautiful. Did you make it?”

  “Gabriel helped. He’s much better at chasing the grain than I am. My specialty is arrows.” She handed him a leather quiver with six mismatched arrows. “I need to measure your draw length before I make your arrows. I borrowed a few for you to practice with. The ones with whittled tips are for target practice, but this one…” she handed him an arrow with a lethal stone point, “…is for hunting.”

  Jonathan was awestruck by the craftsmanship of both the bow and arrows. “I don’t know what to say.”

  She grinned at him. “You like it?”

  “Are you kidding me? I love it. Show me how to shoot it.”

  They spent the entire morning slinging arrows. River was a patient and competent teacher. Time stood still as they shot at the target, which was nothing more than an old shirt stuffed with hay and marked with a quarter-sized stain of blackberry juice. Ninety percent of River’s arrows hit the mark. Ninety percent of Jonathan’s didn’t even hit the shirt. “I think I need a little motivation.”

  River arched her eyebrows. “More than beating me?”

  “You’re a better shot than Eli, there’s no way I’m ever going to beat you.” Jonathan scanned the area then slipped his arm around River’s waist from behind. He leaned over and pressed his cheek next to hers. “How about, I get a kiss for every arrow that hits the target?”

  “You haven’t come close to hitting the target.”

  “I’ve got five arrows in that shirt right now.”

  “Pfft.” River looked over her shoulder at him and rolled her eyes. “The stain is the target, not the tunic.”

  “Are you saying you don’t want my kisses?”

  The tip of River’s tongue darted between her lips. She turned around in his arms and faced him. “Well, you are a beginner… I guess it’s only fair.”

  By noon, Jonathan could barely lift his bow much less draw it, but River showed no signs of fatigue. Jonathan didn’t want to appear weak in front of her, but his trembling muscles made his arrows fly even wilder than when they’d begun.

  River put a hand on his shoulder. “I think that’s enough for today.”

  “I don’t understand why you’re so much stronger. I have twice the muscle mass you do.”

  “I’m not stronger. My bow is weaker.”

  Jonathan narrowed his eyes. “How much weaker?”

  “A lot.”

  “Let me see that.” Jonathan released the pin holding his prosthesis closed and traded bows with River.

  “Don’t draw past the tip of the arrow. Shooting yourself in the hand won’t hurt you.” She pointed at his prosthetic. “But it will break the arrow.”

  Jonathan drew the bow with ease, focused on the blackberry stain, and loosed the arrow. It didn’t hit the mark, but it was only a couple of inches off. He smirked at River. “See if you can match that.”

  She reached for her bow, but Jonathan held it over his head. “Use mine.”

  She cocked an eyebrow and smirked at him, then took his bow, nocked an arrow, and hit the bull’s-eye dead center.

  River

  Jonathan’s golden claw dug into River’s lower back as he pulled her closer. She barely noticed. His real hand had her full attention.

  The sound of a childish giggle stopped River’s heart.

  Jonathan sprang away from her and whirled around. “Hey Paul, what’s up, little man?”

  “You guys are in trouble.”

  River leaned over and picked her bow up off the ground, hoping to send enough blood back to her brain to keep from passing out. It didn’t work. She swayed then grabbed Jonathan’s arm to steady herself. “Paul, you can’t tell anyone—”

  “Wait.” Jonathan whispered in River’s ear as he guided her to a tree stump and helped her sit down. “Let’s see what he says before we confess anything.”

  He dropped to one knee and put his hands on Paul’s shoulders. “Why are we in trouble?”

  “You didn’t do your morning chores.”

  River’s body trembled as relief flooded her veins.

  Jonathan chuckled and messed Paul’s hair.

  Paul ducked away from him and pointed his finger at Jonathan. “And you aren’t supposed to kiss River. She belongs to Eli.”

  River dropped her face into her hands. This was a disaster. She took a deep breath as she lifted her head. “I don’t belong to anyone. Eli doesn’t even have a co
urtship contract.”

  “That’s what Aunt Shula said.”

  “Aunt Shula?” River jumped to her feet. “When did you see Aunt Shula?”

  “Just now. She’s arguing with Pa. She wants you to mate with Eli after you—” Paul sucked his lips into his mouth and glanced at Jonathan then stage-whispered, “After you…you know.”

  Walnut sized knots formed on Jonathan’s jaw. River hoped he was focused on the ‘mating with Eli’ part of Paul’s declaration and not his attempt to cover the fact he’d nearly blurted out a secret.

  River gripped Paul’s shoulders and leaned over until she was face to face with him. “I need you to help Jonathan gather up all the arrows. You’ll have to look hard. Most of his are behind the target.”

  Paul grinned at her. “If I find more arrows than Jonathan, he has to do my chores.”

  “Sounds good to me.” River hugged Paul to her chest and mouthed a warning to Jonathan. “Keep him away from Eli. I’m going to talk to Reuben.”

  Jonathan pressed his lips into a hard line and shook his head.

  River knew Jonathan well enough to know he didn’t want her to face Reuben without him. She also knew the best way to gain his cooperation.

  She held Paul at arm’s length and even though she spoke directly to him, the message was for Jonathan. “I know how hard it is to keep a secret, but if Eli ever finds out that I kissed Jonathan, he’ll whip me.”

  Jonathan grabbed River’s arm and pulled her to her feet. “Over my dead body.”

  She kissed Jonathan’s cheek then whispered, “You have to let me talk to Reuben, alone. Keep Paul away from Eli, at least until I have Reuben’s protection.”

  Jonathan’s shoulders slumped as he exhaled. He pressed his forehead against River’s and nodded.

  She felt a little guilty for manipulating Jonathan. But it was his safety, not hers, that she needed to secure.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Forbidden Fruit

  By the time River got to the house, Shula was already gone. She took a deep breath and knocked on Reuben’s office door.

  “Come in.”

  River closed the door then leaned her back against it. “Paul said that Shula was here.”

  “She was.” Reuben’s chair creaked as he shifted his weight. “She’s determined that you become Eli’s alpha mate.”

  River grabbed the three-legged stool out of the corner and sat down. She folded her arms and rested them on Reuben’s desk. “That’s only because she thinks I can advance Eli’s political career.”

  “Why would she think that?”

  River bit her lip, then decided to trust Reuben with her secret. “My spirit guide is a white wolf.”

  “What!” Reuben stood up, nearly knocking his chair over.

  River leaned back, involuntarily. “I should have told you immediately, but Shula convinced me that you would kill my white wolf to protect me from the zealots inside Sanctuary Mountain. It took me a while to figure it out, but I think Shula wants me to mate with Eli so she can pretend it’s some sort of omen. But I don’t want to mate with Eli, I want Jonathan.”

  River drew a quick breath. She’d delivered that entire speech without pausing for air.

  Reuben’s face drained of color, leaving behind a chalky pallor. He stared at River as if she’d grown a second head.

  She swallowed, hard. “Say something.”

  Reuben dropped into his chair. “I can’t believe it’s true.”

  River hadn’t expected Reuben to support her choice. But she hadn’t expected the news to shake him up quite so badly, either. “Jonathan’s everything Eli isn’t…strong, gentle, courageous, kind, honorable, humble. The way he lets Paul follow him around like a lost pup, answering all his questions about the outside world without ever losing patience proves he’ll make a wonderful father. Eli is an arrogant jackass.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “I know he’s an outsider and his life expectancy isn’t even a quarter of mine, but I don’t care. None of us know how long we have. I could die tomorrow. And some alpha might commit a capital crime during Jonathan’s lifetime and give him the gift of the wolf to lessen the impact on his family. I know the waiting list is long, and I’m not counting on that happening, but I won’t sacrifice the happiness I have today because of an uncertain future.”

  River wished she’d never felt the pull of her wolf. She wished she were one of the unblessed that would live and age like outsiders and recruits. She could refuse to merge with her wolf when it called again, but since she’d already had pre-merge fever, she’d die within twenty-four hours.

  “River.”

  “I’ll cherish every second of my time with Jonathan—no matter how short that time might be. I’m too much in love with him to mate with anyone else.” River’s heart pounded as she tried to catch her breath. She prayed Reuben wouldn’t fight her decision.

  “Sit down. I need to explain something to you.”

  River took her seat and tucked her hands under her thighs.

  Reuben lifted his gaze to the ceiling. “A long time ago, when I was a young man, not much older than Gabriel, Zebulon did something so horrible, so evil, that very few people even know about it.”

  “What did he do?” A shiver ran down River’s spine.

  “Before Zebulon was selected as high-alpha, another man was chosen.”

  “Who?”

  “Zebulon’s youngest brother, Ephraim.” Reuben scrubbed his face with his palms. “He was fourteen. He hadn’t even merged yet, but he was already bigger and stronger than most men twice his age.”

  “Like Gabriel.”

  Reuben smiled. “Yes, a lot like Gabriel.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “Zebulon’s father, Benjamin, was the high-alpha and nearing the end of his life. Zebulon was the oldest son. He was already over two hundred years old, a powerful alpha, and he’d proven he could sire a full-blood son.” Reuben paused, as if checking to see if River was paying attention.

  “You were the full-blood son.”

  “Yes. Everyone expected Benjamin to name Zebulon as the next high-alpha. So it was quite a shock when we all gathered in the ceremonial chamber to witness him bestow the birthright and he commanded Ephraim to kneel before him instead of Zebulon. No one dared contradict the high-alpha. He bestowed the birthright upon Ephraim in front of his posterity, the high-council and the most influential citizens of New Eden.”

  “What happened to Ephraim?” River leaned forward.

  “When Benjamin died, two years later, Zebulon and a few of his closest allies kidnapped Ephraim. They took him to what was then Denver City. They gave him a new name and documents to prove he was an immigrant. They bought a small farm for Ephraim, then left him to fend for himself.”

  “That’s horrible, but I wouldn’t call it evil.”

  “He hadn’t merged yet. They got him drunk and paid a whore to see to it that he never would. They shortened his lifespan to that of an ordinary human.”

  River crossed her arms over her chest. “How do you know all this?”

  “I was there.” Reuben closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “I didn’t approve, but I was outnumbered. There was nothing I could do.”

  “What does this have to do with Jonathan?”

  “He’s a McKnight.”

  River’s heart beat faster. She stood up. “What name was Ephraim given?”

  “He tried to dig his way back inside Sanctuary Mountain, but never succeeded. He did, however, discover gold. He also took a wife who bore him many sons. Unfortunately, most of them died young. None of them ever merged.”

  “Reuben.” River smacked the surface of Reuben’s desk with an open palm. “What was his name?”

  “Charles Ephraim McKnight.”

  River’s knees buckled.

  Reuben guided her to his chair behind his desk and helped her sit down. “Do you know if Jonathan has mated yet?”

  River shook h
er head. “No.”

  Hope blazed in River’s heart as she considered Reuben’s question. If Jonathan hadn’t mated yet, he could still merge with a wolf, extending his lifespan to centuries instead of mere decades.

  Reuben knelt in front of River and placed his hands on her knees. “If Jonathan merges, it will lengthen his lifespan, but it will also reveal his true identity to Zebulon.”

  “Will he try to harm Jonathan?”

  “I have no idea how he’ll react. There’re only a few people that know about Ephraim’s exile. Zebulon and his allies started a rumor that Benjamin was senile when he ordained Ephraim. Since the boy died before he merged, it wasn’t a difficult story to believe. As long as the people that know the truth don’t make a big deal out of it, Jonathan should be safe.”

  “How can I choose? If Jonathan doesn’t merge, he won’t live past his first century. If Zebulon feels threatened, Jonathan won’t live past his first summer.”

  “It’s not your decision to make.”

  River’s eyes filled with tears. “It’s Jonathan’s.”

  Reuben nodded. “The wild pack has been hunting near the eastern rim. Gershon and I will trap a wolf for Jonathan. Take him to the shepherd’s hut and wait for us there.”

  “Will you explain this to him? Including the risks?”

  “I’m not his sponsor.” Reuben wiped the tears off River’s face with the pads of his thumbs then opened his desk drawer and pulled out his journal. He opened it, flipped to a page near the front and slid it across the desk. “There’s more. Listen to your heart. You’ll know what to say when the time is right.”

  Jonathan

  The next morning, River woke Jonathan up an hour before the rooster crowed. He groaned as he rolled over onto his stomach. Hours of archery practice, on top of daily horseback rides and chores had taken a toll on Jonathan’s body. He’d never been so tired and sore in his life. Martial arts tournaments and boot camp paled in comparison.

  As the fog of sleep cleared from his mind, Jonathan remembered that Gabriel had left yesterday to search for the goat herd. They had the room to themselves. He grabbed River’s wrist and pulled her onto the bed. He was under the quilt and she was on top of it, but she still refused to let him kiss her.