by Terry Spear
“I take it Sam’s not happy about this,” Tom said. Silva had waitressed at the tavern forever, even though with their longevity, she was only twenty-eight in human years.
“Nope,” Silva said. “It’s time I had a place of my own. I’ll waitress over there and I’ll be the owner. Which means I can decorate it to my heart’s content. If you hang around long enough,” she said to Elizabeth, “you can come to the grand opening.”
“Thanks. Maybe I can come back some other time.”
Silva glanced at Tom as if he was supposed to keep Elizabeth here a while longer, if nothing else, to ensure that Elizabeth came to her grand opening.
Elizabeth cleared her throat uncomfortably and asked Silva, “Do you ski?”
Silva laughed and said, “I’ve only been up to the ski resort one time. I went to the ski lodge and had a hot toddy.” She shrugged. “If wolves were meant to ski, they wouldn’t have nonslip paw pads.” She paused before she left to place their orders. “You’re staying overnight, at least, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. I am.”
Silva gave her a big smile. “You’ve got to meet Darien’s mate, Lelandi. She’d love to visit with you.”
“I think we’ll see her tonight.”
Silva glanced at Tom. “Good. Sounds real good. I’ll get your food.” She headed for the bar.
Sam shoved a tray on the counter, two sandwiches already on the plates, along with a beer and one glass of milk.
“Why thank you, Sam. That was quick.”
He grunted at her.
Silva whipped around and brought the tray to Tom and Elizabeth’s table. “He’s mad at me,” she whispered to them, “because I’m leaving him to work my own place and he has to find a new waitress. I’ve got new horizons.”
“Sometimes we have to spread our wings,” Elizabeth agreed. “Sometimes it’s time to take a chance and make some big changes in our lives.”
“You sound like you speak from experience,” Tom said.
Elizabeth looked uncomfortable, then shook her head. “Silva sounds like she’s in a place where she needs to make a change.”
“What do you do for a living?” Silva asked.
Tom frowned a little at Silva, wanting her to wait on the other tables and leave him alone with Elizabeth.
Mason came to Tom’s rescue. “Hey, Silva, another round of drinks and sandwiches over here?”
“How will you manage our money at the bank if you’re over here eating all afternoon?” Silva asked cheerfully, then took off to serve the drinks.
Peter rose from the table. “Nothing more for me. Got to get back to work.” He waved in Tom and Elizabeth’s direction and headed out of the tavern.
Elizabeth’s phone jingled.
“Excuse me,” she said to Tom and got up to answer it.
Tom frowned. Her call should be private, but he couldn’t help wanting to know who called her and why. A boyfriend? Tom hoped not. She’d looked more worried than happy to hear from the caller, whoever it was.
Chapter 8
Tom sipped his drink and kept his eye on Elizabeth, who had her ear pressed to the cell phone. As crowded and noisy as the tavern had gotten, Tom couldn’t overhear the caller’s part of the conversation, no matter how much he strained to hear any of it.
“I understand. We’ll have to meet later,” Elizabeth said.
Tom watched the emotions play across her face as she stared at the table, eyes downcast, brow furrowed.
“I’ll…” She looked up to see Tom observing her. “If you get in later, I’ll be at Hastings Bed and Breakfast. If you can’t make it, I’ll call you back, and we’ll work something out.” Pause. “Okay. Bye.” She slipped the phone into her bag. “Sorry. Just a call I had to take.”
“I completely understand. You didn’t tell him you were invited to dinner tonight.” Tom added the “him” in there, suspecting the caller had to be a he—and Tom damn well wanted to know who he was.
“I doubt he’ll come. Roads are bad.”
So he was close by. Within driving distance.
“I’m… sorry. I hadn’t taken into account that you might have had other plans while you stayed here.” He wasn’t sorry. More disappointed, but he should have realized someone would be interested in the woman.
“Don’t worry about it.”
But he did worry about it. And then he thought it odd. She hadn’t mentioned to the caller that she’d been injured. Maybe not wanting to concern the man, since he couldn’t do anything about it? Or maybe she was worried he’d be angry with the pack for allowing her to be injured, and she didn’t want to stir up trouble.
“If he arrives anyway, he could have dinner with Darien and Lelandi tonight,” Tom offered, as much as he hated to.
“No,” she said.
Bluntly. No explanation. That made him even more curious.
“He’s driving?”
This time her gaze locked onto Tom’s.
He fought to keep from smiling as he drank the rest of his beer and sat back in his chair. “Was he going to ski with you?”
She smiled. “You’re cute, you know? No, I’m not seeing him, as in he’s my favorite squeeze. Yes, he’s a wolf. Yes, he’s driving. No, he’s not skiing with me.”
Tom chuckled. He guessed he wasn’t as subtle as he’d hoped. He frowned. “Business?”
She hesitated too long. Finally, she said, “Yeah. Business.”
Coyote trickster came to mind. Again.
He desperately wanted to ask her what kind of business, but he was glad the guy wasn’t courting her. Tom smiled. “You think I’m cute?”
She laughed. “Yeah. You are. Just don’t let it go to your head.”
“After that kiss we shared on the slope, it already has.”
She shook her head slightly, but she smiled.
The door jingled and they both glanced that way.
“Don’t tell me,” she said. “The man with Jake is your oldest brother.”
“Yeah, he is.”
Being in a close-knit pack, Darien, Tom, and Jake often came to the tavern midday to hang out with other pack members and hear if anyone had trouble with anything. So when Tom saw Darien and Jake enter the tavern, he thought that was the only reason they’d come. Unless someone in the tavern had texted them that he and Elizabeth were here and they wanted to check on them. Tom waved at his brothers to join them. Darien and Jake cast each other looks as if they weren’t sure if they should intrude. This was their regular table, and sitting somewhere else might signal that Tom was courting Elizabeth.
“Elizabeth, meet my brother Darien.”
“Don’t stand,” Darien said. “We look forward to seeing you tonight. Lelandi’s planning a big spread and has nannies taking care of the kids.”
“Thanks. She didn’t have to go to all that trouble,” Elizabeth said.
“Are you kidding? She’s a psychologist, which means she wants to do everything just right to make you feel at home.”
Elizabeth smiled faintly.
“Come, join us,” Tom offered. This was the pack leaders’ table, so no one needed to offer Darien a seat, but Tom could see that Darien was waiting to determine whether his youngest brother wanted time alone with the wolf-coyote lady.
Several tables had filled up due to the time of day. After Darien and Jake took their usual seats, Jake waved to Silva. “I need to get back to the slopes, so if you can just get me a water and sandwich, that’ll work.”
“You got it,” Silva said. “You, boss?” she asked Darien.
“Same.”
“Coming up,” Sam said, as if he didn’t need Silva to tell him what to do.
Silva walked over to the bar to get the tray.
His voice low, Darien said to Tom, “The Victorian Tea Shop?”
“Yeah, there might
be trouble in paradise,” Tom replied.
Silva delivered the tray of sandwiches and two bottled waters to their table. “More wolf sightings around the local farmers’ livestock, I hear.”
“A farmer spotted three wolves yesterday before the snowstorm hit,” Darien said.
Tom leaned back in his chair. “Every time we’ve investigated, we haven’t smelled any of their scents.”
“I checked with the couple of wolf packs that live several miles from here to see if they know of any rogue wolves, or if any of their pack members have been missing,” Darien said.
“And nothing, right?” Tom asked.
“Nothing. Right.”
“Maybe wolves that don’t belong to a pack, then. Nomads,” Tom said.
“Got to be.”
Silva slipped her pen into her pocket. “Rumblings are that the farmers and ranchers won’t wait for you and your men to take care of it.”
“We’re doing the best we can,” Darien said. “We’ll search again in a day or so. After that, another storm will hit. We won’t be able to do anything until the snow settles again.”
“They’re bound to take off and get caught up in the storm this time, since they’re so persistent.” Silva smiled at Jake. “Got the babies’ booties knitted.” She turned to Tom. “As long as you don’t pick up a woman and get her pregnant, I’m nearly done knitting baby gifts for a while.”
Elizabeth blushed and Tom was certain he suffered from the same reaction, as hot as his face felt. Everyone at the table remained silent. Silva was always outspoken, but when she made a friend, she was theirs for life. She seemed to like Elizabeth right away. Maybe she reminded her of Lelandi; she and Silva had become fast friends.
“Have you had any dreams, Tom?” Silva went on. “You know, like Jake and Darien had?”
He was the only one who had put any stock in dream mating and the only one of the three brothers who hadn’t had any dreams. He shook his head. He cast Jake an annoyed look. Of any of the brothers, Jake was the worst for not having believed in the phenomenon.
“Well, it’s probably just not your time yet,” Silva said, sounding sympathetic. “Unless, of course, you don’t need the extra push in the right direction.” She glanced at Elizabeth.
Elizabeth might never have heard of such an occurrence, and Tom wished Silva would get off the topic.
“Hey, lady, you waiting on all the tables or just that one?” some guy shouted from across the tavern.
Every head turned in his direction.
Dressed in ski clothes, three late-twenties, early-thirties male wolves sat at a table next to one of the windows. They had probably smelled that it was a shifter-only tavern, but they must not have known that the Silver brothers and their mates ran the town. Or that the three men seated at this table were the Silver brothers.
Everyone looked to see what Darien would do. He eyed the men and then took a swig of his bottled water.
Silva gave the newcomers a big smile. “Coming.” But she didn’t.
“You want me to say something to them?” Jake asked Darien.
“No. No need,” Darien said, still eyeing the men.
Darien was like that. He didn’t need to use his muscle to show who was boss. Yet everyone there knew he’d take the men to task if the situation required it.
Sam’s beard, height, and muscular build made him look more like a grizzly than a gray wolf, and he glared at the men as he poured drinks from the tap, casting a watchful eye on Silva.
Sam might be big, but he moved fast. Tom had seen him dive around the counter, grab an unruly wolf, and throw him out the door faster than anyone could react. Just give him a good reason. And all he needed for motivation was someone being nasty to Silva.
When Silva waited on a table near the Silver brothers’, the three men’s scowls hardened. Sam had already given them each a beer. Granted, their mugs were empty again, but it was a busy afternoon as the wolves in the area enjoyed a reprieve from the last snowstorm before the next hit.
Tom turned back to the table, confident Sam could handle the situation but still wary about the wolf strangers, especially considering the topic at hand. “Since we’ve never smelled any sign of the wolves that have been sneaking around the farms, I suspect they’ve got to be some of our kind.” He eyed the strangers again.
Jake agreed. “Yeah, I’m inclined to think they could be from our pack, or they wouldn’t disguise their scent. Otherwise, we wouldn’t know who they were anyway.”
“Possibly. Or they just don’t want us trailing them. Which brings us to which ones they are and why they’re doing this,” Darien said.
“Or they could just be troublemaking wolves or wolves for hire. Or some other wolves that have a beef with us,” Jake said.
“You mean like the wolves from the red pack who caused us trouble before?” Tom asked.
“Hey, lady!” one of the other outsider wolves said. “Are you working only that side of the tavern?”
Sam slammed a mug of beer on the countertop, sloshing it all over.
Tom asked Darien, “Are you sure you don’t want me to speak to them?”
“No. Sam will take care of it, if necessary.”
Tom knew that was Darien’s way of saying that Sam was Silva’s protector, and he wanted him to get off the fence about mating with her. Everyone in town knew Silva only desired Sam, and vice versa. Nobody wanted to get on Sam’s bad side, so even if some wolves flirted with Silva, nobody was about to court her.
Tom slid a glance Elizabeth’s way. She took everything in—the discussion about the wolf-pack trouble they had, the interaction between pack members and outsiders. He took a deep breath to smell her reaction and thought maybe she would be worried or anxious. She wasn’t. She was ready to tackle the men, her adrenaline running high, her fingers clenched around her milk glass, her expression feral. He smiled at her. Even though this wasn’t her battle and it wasn’t her pack, she appeared ready to fight on Silva’s behalf.
Silva might act like she needed the pack’s help, but she was good at dealing with issues herself.
“I’ll be right there,” Silva said very sweetly. She enjoyed riling people who got on her bad side.
She passed by the bar, smiled at Sam, and gave him the drink order for the men seated at the table next to Darien’s. Then she continued on her way to the outsiders’ table.
When she reached them, the blond man scratched his beard, his cold, dark eyes focused on her. “Hell, woman, a man could die of thirst before he got a spit of whiskey in this place.”
“Silva,” she said in a sugary way. She could be a real tigress when she was provoked, but she also knew how to play people. “I thought you had a beer.”
Tom was ready to move if any of the men got physical with her. “I’ll take the redhead on the left,” he said to his brothers.
Jake smirked. “Hell, Tom, that’s the smallest guy of the bunch. Okay, I’ll take the scraggly black-haired guy to the right.”
“You need glasses,” Tom retorted. “The guy on the right is the smallest one of the three.”
Elizabeth chuckled. Tom smiled.
When the dark-haired man reached for Silva’s arm, virtually every male in the tavern shoved his chair aside and headed for the newcomers’ table. Sam was there, too, a full bottle of whiskey in his clenched hand. He looked like he was itching to use it.
The man quickly pulled back his hand.
“Time to go, boys,” Darien said, his eyes glittering with menace. “Storm’s coming in. You better get out of town before it’s too late.”
The man narrowed his eyes at Darien. “It’s a free country. And the storm’s not coming in for a couple of days.”
“I run the town.”
The men’s eyes all rounded as Darien got their attention.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” th
e spokesman for the group said, rising slowly. “And you are who exactly?”
“Darien Silver, and my advice still stands.”
Tom and the rest of the men were ready to back Darien up with force, if necessary. If the three strangers always acted like this, a pack didn’t need them.
The other two men rose from the table.
“Seems we’re not welcome here.” The spokesman cast one last glance in Silva’s direction, then slid his gaze Elizabeth’s way.
That had Tom hot under the collar.
Without another word, the three outsiders headed out of the tavern.
Jake said, “I’ve got to get back to the slopes.”
“See you tonight,” Darien replied. He turned to three men of their pack. They all bowed their heads just a little in acknowledgment and left the tavern. They would make sure that the troublemakers headed out of town.
Darien pulled Tom aside and lowered his voice. “I want you to bring Elizabeth up to the house as soon as you get her things.”
“We intend to come up later, in time for dinner.”
“We don’t really know what’s going on with her. I’d rather she stay with us until she leaves.”
“All right.”
“I’ll see you both in just a bit,” Darien said and headed out of the tavern.
Tom returned to the table where Elizabeth was still seated. She’d finished her sandwich and drunk the last of her milk. “Are we ready to go back to the B and B?” she asked.
“Change of plans.” As independent as Elizabeth appeared, Tom was afraid she wouldn’t like the change of plans one bit.
Chapter 9
Bertha’s face was scrunched up with concern as she came out of the kitchen, wiping her wet hands off on a towel, and greeted Tom and Elizabeth when they arrived at her inn. “Oh, my, I can’t believe anyone would hurt you, Elizabeth.”
Bertha’s curly hair drooped a little, and she smelled of soy sauce, spicy mustard, and pork chops. If Tom hadn’t already had dinner plans at Darien’s house, he would have opted to eat here.
“I’m fine,” Elizabeth reiterated, but she smiled, touched that Bertha would be so concerned, having only just met her.