Wilder

by Lena North

  “Easy to say when you have it, but they have no money in Marshes, Wilder. Not like you do, or like we do in Norton. We started the financial fund hundreds of years ago and kept adding to it until it was big enough to live off. In Marshes, they didn’t. They’re not poor, but things are getting harder with each year,” Mac murmured. “They’re also too proud to ask for help.”

  “Are they all in on it?” Sloane asked.

  “No,” Hawker asked immediately. “We’ve some contacts who have contacts there, and this seems to be isolated to Paolo and a few others. Most of them have no clue.”

  “Can you have them arrested?” I asked.

  “Maybe,” Miller murmured.

  “But –” Jinx started and then she clamped her mouth shut. Then she muttered a low and hoarse, “Fuck it to hell and back.”

  When we stared at her, she straightened and glared at Hawker. His eyes crinkled a little at the corners, but he didn’t say anything.

  “Okay. I’m going to say this in the nicest way possible. But really? Why in the hell would you try to have the man arrested when there’s a much easier way to stop them?”

  Miller turned slowly to her, but she continued calmly.

  “Lodge a complaint against him with the state. He’s breaking the land protection act.”

  Say what?

  “Jiminella, I do believe you are right,” Miller rumbled, and the tips of his mouth twitched a little. “He would have to explain more details than he’d be willing to share, and he’d also have to get environmental assessments and the likes.”

  “Jesus,” Hawker muttered. “We could keep adding to the complaint as well. It would block him for years, and he doesn’t have money for that kind of thing.”

  “He could sell the art he got from Willy,” I said. “It would bring in a lot of money.”

  Mary had been moving plates and cups to the sink, but she turned slowly then.

  “That would be hard,” she said, “seeing as most of it is marked to have special interest to our country.” She smiled softly and murmured affectionately, “Willy the wily.”

  She put the frying pan down and leaned on the counter, grinning at our confused faces.

  “That means Paolo can’t sell it abroad without smuggling it across the border, which would be difficult since most of it is hanging in museums, accounted for and protected.”

  She chuckled and added, “No one in their right mind would try to buy any of it. The museums are publicly funded so they have no admission. Why pay for it when you can watch it for free? Besides, the public outcry would be loud, if someone were to tell the media.”

  We just stared at her, and she smiled happily.

  “See? I knew my university education would eventually come to more use than teaching me how to do the dishes,” she giggled and swept her hand out, indicating the sink.

  Shit. We’d all just sat there while she made breakfast for everyone, and started to clean up. I knew she liked to cook, but she was in no way our maid, and everyone else seemed to have figured the same thing out. We promptly got to our feet and started to do our part of the cleaning. Hawker tried to slip out, murmuring something about calling a lawyer about the complaint but a laughing Sloane pulled him back and gave him a towel.

  The mood was light and happy again as we quickly put the kitchen back into order.

  ***

  After that day, things went smooth and easy.

  With the help of one of Hawker's contacts we filed legal documents, lodging a complaint against the activities we had seen in the mountains north of Double H. The birds reported back to us that it took less than ten hours for the men to disappear, taking all the equipment with them.

  We were all surprised about how quickly Paolo had backed off, and I overheard Hawker and Miller speculating that the foreign investors were just rumors. I didn’t say anything to them about it, but later, I discussed it with Mac.

  He shook his head and muttered, “Oh, no. I got cut three times for a reason, and that reason was at least partially because I saw proof of the investors in Fratinelli’s office. They could have backed out of the deal, which would explain why the asshat backed off, but they were not just rumors.”

  I agreed with him and worried. I’d called Paolo, thinking that I should thank him for our lovely visit, but he didn’t pick up his phone and never called back. That pissed me off because even though I didn’t really want to talk to the man, I had nevertheless wasted both time and energy working out some plausible lies for why Mac had been in the hospital and why we’d gone to Norton later. I’d planned to say that we’d crashed with his bike and since I’d been driving I had felt that it was my responsibility to nurse him back to health.

  Jinx was the only one who wasn’t surprised that everything suddenly was peaceful at Double H.

  “Brain always wins over brawn,” she smirked.

  That set me off, so I objected and then one thing led to another, and we ended up in a fight, involving finger pointing and loudly shouted insults. Hawker was visiting the ranch, and he’d brought Kit, so both of them got involved. My father was on my side, but Kit tried valiantly to stay neutral, and after a lot of cajoling on his part we settled down and continued discussing the use of “always” versus “sometimes.”

  Mac was in Norton, but he laughed when I told him later that night. We spent most of our time together, driving up and down between the ranch and the mountains, but sometimes his work kept him in Norton while I had to be at Double H.

  Uncle Andy had been released from the hospital, but it was clear that there would be a lot of rehabilitation needed in the months to come. Olly had stayed at Double H the whole time, and when I asked him about the other job he had, he just shrugged.

  “Olly,” I prompted, nudging him with my shoulder to get him to speak.

  This was not an easy task because he was a man of extremely few words, though I’d realized immediately that when he actually made an effort to say something, you’d better listen because it was always good advice.

  “Left the job,” he muttered and picked up a sack of feed like it weighed next to nothing when it, in fact, would be heavier than me.

  Olly was huge, like his father, and he looked like a thug. He shaved his head and had jet black tattoos slithering up from his back over his neck up on the base of his skull. I hadn’t asked him what kind of bird he had but assumed that it was an owl just like his mother, Byrd.

  “You left your job? But Olly –” I protested, but he started talking, and my mouth fell open because I’d never heard him utter so many words in a row.

  “You are one of us, and you will take your place with us when the time is right. Hawker doesn’t see it yet, Wilder, but he will. And Mickey… He’s your brother, your family, so that makes him my family, and being there for your family when they need it is just how it’s done.”

  I gaped at him.

  “My place in what?” I asked.

  “You know what we do, right? How we use the birds?” he countered.

  I got it then. He meant that I should take my place in their group, and start working with them to guard our world. Suddenly, it all clicked into place, and I relaxed.

  Yes. This was what I wanted, and when I thought about it, who Willy had raised me to be. I’d done martial arts training, had been shooting and driving bikes since I was just a kid and he’d put me on my first pair of skis when I was not even two years old. He’d approved of my engineering studies but encouraged me, even more, when I wanted to study our history and how different groups had worked and lived through the past century.

  “He won’t like it, though,” Olly murmured and moved to walk away.

  “Don’t worry about it, I can handle my dad,” I said, hoping that I wasn’t wrong and not looking forward to the argument we’d have about this.

  “Meant Mac,” Olly muttered just before he disappeared around the corner of our barn.

  I stewed on that during t
he next couple of days, wondering what I’d do if Mac didn’t want me in the group. Could he even not want me in the group? I had a bird, didn’t I?

  When Mac drove up the lane that weekend, I suddenly realized that Olly had timed his comment well, and I wondered if he’d done that deliberately. The days I’d had to think it all through before Mac came had been just enough time to work out what I would say. If I’d had just blurted it out and Mac had protested, I would have thrown myself right into a tantrum. Even though I was sure that we would have agreed on some kind of compromise, in the end, there would have been a fight at first.

  Instead, Mac swung off his bike and then there was the usual welcome, which involved me running down the steps to get spun around in a wide circle, followed by him kissing me as if he’d been away at war for a year and not in his condo for a few days. Mickey had teased me about it and said that it would be good when we settled into our relationship and behaved with more dignity, but I hoped that we never would. Mac had a way of making me feel special that I hoped would last forever.

  After dinner, I pulled Mac along for a walk.

  “Falk…” I murmured with my sweetest voice, thinking that it would put him in a good mood for the rest of that conversation.

  “What do you want?” he asked and stopped to face me.

  “Nothing,” I murmured, thinking that, shit, why could I never, ever, pull one over on him?

  “Spit it out, baby,” he said.

  “I want to be a part of the group, so I talked to my bird and we can help. We need to help,” I murmured.

  He looked down on his black boots and sighed.

  “Olly talked to you?” he muttered.

  “Yes. But Mac…” I started but trailed off and waited until he raised his head again and looked at me. “You should have said something.”

  This was one of the things that I’d thought a lot about in the past days. Hawker should have said something to me about it, but I got why he hadn’t. My father was very bossy, but also very protective. He’d not want me to do anything that could put me in harm's way.

  I didn’t get why Mac hadn’t brought it up, and I was nervous. Maybe he didn’t think I’d add anything to the group.

  “You know that I love you, right?” he asked quietly.

  What? No, I didn’t exactly know that. At least, he’d never told me, and I was pretty sure I would have remembered.

  “Wh –”

  “The thing is…” he looked down on the ground again and when he spoke it was so quiet I had to lean closer to hear the words. “I love you, baby, but I probably need you even more. It isn’t just that I like being with you, or that you make me think, or how you make me laugh. You’re sexy as hell, but that’s not it either.”

  I forgot to breathe for a while, and then I sucked in air because my head started to spin. My whole body softened and when he turned his head a little to the side to look at me under his brow he looked so much like a very young, vulnerable boy that my heart skipped a beat.

  I put my hand on his cheek, and he leaned into it.

  “I need you in ways I can’t explain, and I’m not entirely comfortable thinking about it. Knocked the wind out of me at first and it took a while until I found steady ground again.”

  He kissed the palm of my hand and grinned crookedly.

  “Then I realized that you need me just as much, Wilder, and that made it easier. Still… I’ve never had what we have together, and I know there’s tons of shit we should have talked about, but I needed some time to find my way around everything that was happening.”

  I held his gaze and knew with everything that I was that I’d never seen anything more beautiful than the look in his eyes.

  “Okay,” I said, thinking that I should have said something not quite so forgettable but there was a thick lump lodged in my throat and I couldn’t seem to think.

  “I can’t lose you, but I get that we’d lose a part of what we have if I hold you back, baby, so we’ll have to figure out how to do it in a way that keeps me sane, yeah?” he murmured.

  Warmth settled inside my chest, and I smiled.

  “I love you,” I whispered. “We’ll find a way.”

  I’d never thought that I’d say those words to anyone, hadn’t wanted to feel like I felt at that moment. But he was right, I needed him, more than air. More than life itself.

  He leaned down and put his forehead against mine. I closed my eyes and then we stood there in the darkness behind the barn.

  “Falk,” I murmured after a while, just to hear his name.

  “Yeah,” he sighed.

  Then we continued walking, and he held my hand but the moment had felt huge, momentous, and a kiss against the barn wall seemed somehow wrong.

  “Have you told your da yet?” he asked after a while.

  “Hell no,” I chuckled.

  “Can I be there?”

  “To make sure, he doesn’t strangle me?”

  “Something like that, yeah,” he replied and then his laughter echoed through the darkness.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Bait

  I started training with my bird the next day, and she was just as eager as I was. We talked a bit about all the other birds, whom she seemed to know surprisingly well. At first, it was rather confusing, and I asked her be slightly more specific and not refer to each bird as “Bird.” She thought this was unnecessary and apparently stupid, but after a brief argument, she got my point and reluctantly agreed.

  Mac and I had decided that before we talked to Hawker, I’d work with the bird to see how I felt about it. He’d also insisted that I’d pick up my martial arts training again. I’d been reluctant because it meant driving down to Prosper regularly but he’d laughed and pointed at Olly who was walking across a field quite some distance away from us.

  The huge man was apparently some kind of expert fighter, according to Mac. My father and Miller was apparently also good fighters, “Though, probably more of the bar room brawl variety,” Mac chuckled.

  “What about you?” I asked.

  “Rarely fight,” he said with a grin. “Did some boxing in Uni, though.” Then his smile faded away, and he added quietly, “I’m usually the sniper, Wilder.”

  I thought about that for a while, and what it meant.

  “Do you have different roles in the group?” I asked

  “Sort of, yeah. Hawker, Mill, and Olly usually take down whoever needs to be taken down. I have their backs with my rifle or knives. Kit and Byrd are good with guns too, but they mostly do intelligence and deal with technical stuff, like surveillance and such.”

  They seemed to have a well-functioning team, so what would be my role in it?

  “You’ll find your way, baby,” he murmured, reading my thoughts, or maybe my face.

  “Okay,” I said, hoping I would. “Do you kill people, Mac?” I asked.

  “I try not to,” was his soft reply.

  Okay. That probably meant he had. I thought about that in the days that followed, while I trained with the bird or sparred with Olly who was surprisingly agile in spite of his massive frame.

  Could I kill another person? I didn’t know.

  Miller was in Norton, so Mac was free to stay at Double H. Our cattle were healthy again, and even though they’d had to put a few more down in the first days after the nitrate poisoning, I knew that all in all, we’d been lucky. Without Snow’s Osprey, things would have been far worse.

  “Talked to Annie today,” Mac mumbled through a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

  “Okay,” I replied, not finding anything strange about him talking to our regular Vet.

  “She wants to cut back hours, semi-retire,” he added.

  “Really?”

  This wasn’t so surprising, but it was disappointing because she’d been our Vet for as long as I can remember.

  “Asked me to partner up at her practice,” Mac continued, and when he saw my face, he continue
d immediately, “I said no, babe. Can’t be tied down with fixed hours, you know that.”

  “Of course,” I agreed, but I was a bit disappointed.

  It would have been sweet if he’d worked closer to Double H.

  “I told her we could talk to Rider, though. So we did and agreed that we’d shift primary responsibilities for Double H from her to me. That way, she can cut back some immediately.”

  I blinked. I’d just been thinking that it would be nice to have Mac closer, but it felt weird that he’d gone behind my back to talk to Uncle Andy.

  “I have no say in this?” I asked slowly.

  “Well, no,” he said, looking surprised.

  “You decided this with Uncle Andy?” I asked, and his head came up when he heard the tone in my voice.

  “You don’t want me here?”

  “Of course I want you here, don’t be stupid,” I snapped.

  “Right. And Rider runs the ranch, head of operations and all that,” he said. “Of course I talked to him, and of course you have no say in who he employs as the ranch’s Vet.”

  I didn’t even know what to say about that. He was right in everything he said, but it was still a pretty big decision that he should have talked to me about first.

  “Jesus, Wilder. What crawled up your ass now?” he murmured.

  “Maybe the fact that you didn’t even think to discuss with your girlfriend about a major decision, such as where you live and work?” I asked sarcastically.

  I could actually see in his eyes how the validity in what I said dawned on him. He still looked like a thundercloud.

  “Okay. Fair point. Though, this all happened in a brief conversation between Annie, Rider and me outside the barn less than an hour ago. I should, of course, have left them to go inside to check with my girlfriend if I could live with her,” he said in a voice dripping with sarcasm, and went on, “and if she allowed me to work on her ranch?”

  Oh. Well, I hadn’t known that, had I?

  “I’m gonna go to the barn, check on one of the cows who has a pretty nasty eye infection,” he growled and tossed his cutlery on the table. “If that’s okay with you, of course,” he added curtly but didn’t wait for my reply.