Howl for the Holidays

by Keira Blackwood

  “I’m sure she’ll understand,” I said.

  “And I left all of the presents back in my car,” she said, turning her gaze toward the rising sun.

  “We’ll bring ‘em late,” I said. “I’m sure Santa delivered plenty for the morning.”

  “But the keys are lost out somewhere in the snow,” Amy said. “Along with my clothes. And yours.” That brought out as near a grin as she could manage in wolf form, and her attention back on me.

  “That could be a problem,” I agreed. I wasn’t about to take her back the way we’d traveled.

  “Well, I guess we’ll have to make it the rest of the way as wolves,” she said. “It looks like it’s finally stopped snowing.”

  “Some time in the night, I think,” I said.

  We watched the sun turn the sky orange and give life and color to the earth below. Orange turned to blue, and a bright, cloudless sky. The sun was warm on my fur by the time we rose to our feet. I shook my fur, and snow from the night fell to the ground. White powder clung in drifts to the trunks of the pines, more still on the needled branches.

  I walked by Amy’s side as she led the way around a wide mountain path. And I found it difficult to keep my eyes off of my mate and the mark on her neck. It was too good to be true. And the best Christmas present I’d ever been given.

  As we grew closer to her family farm, Amy pointed out landmarks that held special meaning to her. Every step was a story, those she’d lived before we’d met, and those we’d made together.

  “There it is,” Amy said, as we passed a break in the rock face. We paused in our tracks and looked over the small, frozen body of water. Snow mounded around the edges of the ice, too tall to tell where exactly the blueberry bush was.

  “I’d like to see it again when it’s warm,” I said.

  “It’s a date,” Amy replied.

  We left the cliffs behind, for open fields of white powder, and clusters of snow-dusted pines. I could hear a wren chirping, a robin singing. A paper-white rabbit bounded past us and hid beneath the cover of an evergreen sapling. Old wooden fences led us up a gentle slope.

  “What’s under there?” I asked, pointing my muzzle to a familiar shape, blanketed in snow.

  “I knew you’d spot that one,” she replied with a smile. “That was my grandfather’s truck. It was old when I was little, now it’s been parked for good.”

  “Way out here with no one to fix it?” I asked.

  “My Gran grows wildflowers in the bed,” she said. “It’s full of red and blue and yellow blooms in the spring.” I’d have rather seen the classic model still on the road, but after being left to rust, it was nice to see the family give the old beauty a new purpose.

  “I didn’t know you liked flowers,” I said, watching the way her eyes lit up when she talked about the garden.

  “Not bouquets or anything,” Amy said. “But there’s something magical about a beautiful garden.”

  “What about that pond?” I asked, looking over at the ice-coated circle. “Do you have any stories about that?” I wanted to know all of the events that defined her. I wanted to learn everything about Amy. Every memory shared was a gift, a chance to know more about her. And I could never know enough.

  “We used to swim in there,” Amy said. “Me and my sisters.”

  “What are they like?” I asked.

  “Oh, you’ll see soon enough,” she said with a smile.

  A two-story cabin came into view, up ahead. Snow clung to the tin roof, melting in the warm morning sun. Light reflected off the metal, brighter than it did off of the snow. The shutters and siding were all constructed of wood, all aged with the decades that had passed since the home had been built, and all well-maintained. The front door was painted as red as the barn, the building standing behind the house, at the end of the expansive yard. As we approached, the red door swung open, and a blonde crowd gathered by the door, tall to small, all watching us. With each step closer, I grew more nervous. I could handle bears and snow, but Christmas dinner with family? That was a new and terrifying adventure. My muscles grew tense as I looked over the women, men, and children that piled onto the porch. There was an older woman in a red and green sweater, hunched over and holding tightly to her cane. Her short, curly hair was more white than blonde, and she smiled wide. There was a woman that looked much like my mate, with white streaks in her long golden hair. She wore a long, loose fitting white dress, and wrinkles by her eyes. There were young women, Amy’s sisters, and men standing by them. Blonde children ran in every direction. My pace slowed.

  “They won’t bite,” Amy said, leaning her furry, white shoulder into mine. “I promise.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Amy

  “We were so worried.” My mother bent down on the front porch, wrapped her arms around my neck, through my fur, and squeezed. She looked as beautiful as she always did in her red lipstick and soft, white dress. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

  She looked me over, and her eyes stopped on the mark on my neck. Then they flicked to Harkins. He stilled under her gaze.

  “I’m okay, Mom,” I said. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Meery Chrissmiss,” Nessa pushed through the sea of legs, wrapped her arm around her mother’s knee, and waved at me. She was a tiny version of my sister Nora, with the same straight, blonde hair, the same bright blue eyes.

  “Merry Christmas, Nessa,” I said with a smile.

  “Introduce us,” my sister Joy said. The tallest of the women, Joy held her mate’s hand, and her pregnant belly.

  Everyone was looking at Harkins, the fierce grey wolf standing a few feet from the door.

  “And where’s your car?” my mother asked.

  “Long story,” I replied. “Can we come inside? And I’ll tell you all about it.” Well, most of it. “And this is Harkins.”

  “Hi, Harkins,” Joy said. “Nice to meet you. I’m Joy.”

  “I’m Nessa,” Nessa said.

  Voices carried from the doorway as everyone tried to talk to him at once.

  “Is Harkins a first name or a last name?” Gran asked.

  “No one knows, Gran,” I said with a grin. “It’s a secret.”

  “No clothes and just one name, huh? Well come on in, Just Harkins,” Gran said, with a smile that said she liked him already. “Everyone’s going to want to hear all about you.”

  “Thanks,” Harkins said, voice taut.

  The crowd made way and we went inside. My dad stood just inside the door, waiting for us. He had the darkest features of the Anderson pack: black hair, tan skin. He was the one I got my brown eyes from. “Merry Christmas, Dad,” I said.

  “Merry Christmas, Amy,” he said, in a warm, gentle tone. “I’m glad you made it here in one piece.” Then he turned his attention to my mate. “Harkins?” he asked, looking over the big, grey wolf.

  “Yes, sir,” my mate replied.

  “Can I offer you something to wear?” Dad lifted his hand, gesturing up the staircase, and his brows lifted showing his kind, brown eyes.

  “Please,” Harkins said.

  “Welcome to the family,” my dad said, as he led Harkins, still in wolf form, up the tall, wooden staircase. The two looked stiff, but I knew my mate was in good hands.

  “Amy,” Nora said, with a little pull on my tail. I turned. “I have a dress that you can borrow.”

  “Thanks,” I said, and followed her up to her old bedroom. It was just like I remembered, purple, pink, and full of sparkly everything.

  “Harkins as in the Harkins?” Nora asked, as I shifted back to human form.

  “The one and only,” I said, and slipped on the long-sleeved green dress my sister held out for me. It wasn’t my style, but it was my size. And I was grateful.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “So, what, he finally said yes to a date and you decided not to share with your favorite sister?” Nora asked with a smug grin on her pretty, pink lips.

  “No, I didn’t hold back on you,” I s
aid. “I promise. It just happened. Let’s go downstairs, so I can tell my story just once.”

  “I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s curious,” Nora said.

  “I’m sure,” I agreed, and squeezed my sister in for a hug. It was good to be home. Wonderful to be with Nora.

  When we reached the bottom of the staircase, I heard his voice. In the living room, a fire roared in the hearth. A tree reached up toward the ceiling nearly two stories high, covered in sparkling ornaments and shining white lights. Harkins sat in the middle of the long, brown leather sofa, with my sisters on each of his sides, and Nessa on his lap. Gran stood with Mom and Dad. Everyone had gathered around my mate, sitting on the floor when there wasn’t space to sit. My brother-in-law Jeff stood by the doorway to the kitchen, beer in hand, leaning on the frame and listening to Harkins.

  I slid in between my sister Joy and my mate, and took Harkins’s hand. He wore an ugly Christmas sweater my Gran had knit for my dad, one my father had never worn. It had little jingle bells along the collar, which I may have dinged a few times while I sat next to Harkins on the sofa.

  “That’s right,” Harkins said. “First time I laid eyes on Amy was at Sawtooth Den. Didn’t take long to love her. Always have.”

  “I’m so happy for the two of you,” Mom said, squeezing Dad’s hand as she looked between me and my mate. “What a wonderful gift for Christmas.”

  We spent the day in front of the fire, where I told the tale of how we’d lost our vehicles and our clothes, minus the personal, not-so-appropriate-for-Christmas-and-children-details.

  “Just Harkins,” Gran said, “do you have a house for our Amy? A good job?”

  “Mom,” My mother said, lowering her brow. Then she turned to Harkins and waited for his answer.

  “James,” Harkins told Gran. She nodded. “I have an apartment, a place in our pack as top enforcer. I’m the alpha’s right hand, and have saved all of my earnings for as long as I can remember. I’ll buy her a house if she wants one.”

  “I have a job too,” I said. “And a savings. And an apartment.”

  My mom looked to Harkins and said, “She likes the little blue one on Main Street.”

  “Mom,” I scolded.

  “She does,” Nora agreed.

  Harkins looked to me and smiled. It was true. I may have mentioned that I liked the little blue townhouse on Main Street. But we could figure all of that out later. For the moment, I just wanted to enjoy what we had discovered—the new bond with each other.

  After about an hour, the tension Harkins held in his shoulders was gone, and was replaced by contentment.

  I helped my sisters, my mother, and my grandmother with dinner. Harkins spent time talking to my father and my brothers-in-law. They talked sports and agriculture, and most of the time, trucks. Maybe it was a man thing, or only a wolf shifter man thing, but they all seemed to love trucks and motorcycles. Either way, I enjoyed watching Harkins bond with my father. Nessa showed us the fairy garden she’d built with Gran—a tiny house painted sparkly pink, with succulents growing all around the little wooden building in the terra cotta pot. And Joy’s son, Nick, showed Harkins all of the trading cards in his massive binder. The six year old went through all of the statistics and strengths of the monsters and spells, and Harkins listened to every word. By dinner, the two sat on the living room floor playing a battling game with the cards.

  We shared a meal of turkey and stuffing, of roasted root vegetables and pumpkin pie. There were fresh-baked rolls and creamy butter. Even a blueberry tart. Everything was homegrown, home-raised, and homemade. It was a delicious meal with good company and good conversation.

  We stayed up late after the kids had all fallen asleep, talking and laughing, trading stories, and remembering Christmases long past. My mate sat beside me, and held my hand, asking questions as my sisters shared embarrassing tales of my childhood. I’d done the same to them when they had first brought their mates to meet the family. Embarrassment was part of the holiday tradition—part of being an Anderson. And I loved every minute—the way Harkins lit up when my eyes went wide, and the way he brushed his thumb over my knuckles when my cheeks turned pink.

  At the end of the night, I took Harkins up to the bedroom that used to be mine, and showed him all of the little things that had mattered to me when I was young. There was the blue comforter, and the little, stuffed, grey wolf that I had snuggled when I had slept. I felt like a teenager, sneaking a boy into my room, excited and nervous. It was our first night together as mates in a real bedroom, between real sheets. I dropped my sister’s dress to the floor, and pulled the jingle bell sweater over Harkins’s head. The little bells sounded as they hit the floor, and I smiled. I ran my fingers through my mate’s beard, down to his taut, masculine chest, and climbed into my childhood bed. Harkins watched my movements with hungry eyes, stood still as I made myself comfortable. When I beckoned him to follow, he dropped his borrowed pants and came to bed without hesitation.

  We made love, and stayed up whispering, then made love again. I’d never seen Harkins so happy or so carefree. It was blissful, and wonderful, and the perfect Christmas. When I couldn’t keep my eyes open a moment longer, we slept together for the first time in a bed, as partners for life. As mates.

  Epilogue

  Amy

  I felt like the house from The Cat in the Hat with Thing One and Thing Two racing around in my belly. Each turn and flip told me the twins would be a handful, a wonderful addition to my new life. Boys or girls, I wanted it to remain a surprise. My mom called every day to see if I’d changed my mind and asked the doctor. And to see how I was feeling. She’d been down to visit more times since she found out I was pregnant than she had since I had first left the farm and moved to Sawtooth Peaks.

  Fleur was trained and ready to pick up all of my duties when I took my maternity leave. Which I was not yet ready to do. Harkins sat on his usual stool in the corner, silently taking in the scene, and within reach of me and anyone that tried to get too close.

  Pool balls cracked on impact, and Journey played beneath the laughter and chatter of Sawtooth Den’s patrons. I winked at Harkins as I walked by, and he gave me a look that said he was ready to take me in the supply closet. Not that it would be the first time. I smiled and poured another round of beers for the booth in the back.

  “Hey.” A tall, thin, human man walked over to the bar and leaned over a bit too far for my comfort. His nose was long and crooked, his arms as thick as my neck. “Heyum sweetcheeks. Howwwbout I take you-” His words slurred as badly as his breath smelled.

  Harkins was on his feet in no time. I held up a hand, letting him know I had it covered. “Let me stop you right there,” I said to the baby-faced man that didn’t seem to care that I was seven months pregnant. With twins. “I’m not interested.”

  “You haven’t even heard my offer. I’va have a six inch-”

  “I’ve got a six inch knife,” I said. “I use it to cut limes. And whatever else I have to,” I said with a smile, and my citrus blade in hand.

  Harkins stood behind the man, muscles tense and ready to defend my honor. The drunk leaned forward, again opening his mouth to ask me for what I assumed would be more than drinks. Harkins laid a hand on the man’s shoulder.

  If my hearing had been human, and not shifter, I would have missed what my mate said. But I didn’t. “Walk away now and you get to keep all of your limbs. Including the little one.”

  The man turned and stared at Harkins, who was the shorter of the two. I’d have put my money on Harkins even if he wasn’t my mate. Their eyes were locked for but a moment.

  “Sorry, yeah,” the guy said, hands in the air, before walking away.

  Harkins approached, to where the man had stood by the counter. He took the drunk’s place, and leaned forward. With a devilish grin and a sparkle in his eye he was as sexy as ever. His beard was full, his shoulders big and strong. I appreciated the way his thick arms flexed and the strength he showed in everything he
did. Then I leaned forward and gave him a kiss. “You know,” he said. “I have a-”

  “After work,” I chided.

  The phone rang, and I turned to answer. “Sawtooth Den, this is Amy.”

  “Amy,” I recognized Cole Tenbrook’s voice.

  “Hi, Cole,” I said. “What can I do for you?”

  “The cribs are done and ready to deliver,” he said.

  “Thank you so much,” I said. “We’ll meet you at the house.”

  “See you then,” Cole said before hanging up.

  I turned back to my mate. “Cribs are ready,” I said. “Let’s go.”

  He smiled, and walked toward the coat rack.

  “Hey, Fleur,” I said, “I just got a phone call-”

  “Go ahead,” she said with a look that suggested that I should have known her answer. “Really, Amy, go.”

  “Thanks.”

  We walked home, to the little townhouse on Main Street that we’d bought together. It was only a block from work, and my favorite color, robin’s egg blue, just like my car parked out front. Harkins locked his hand in mine as we crossed the street and went inside.

  The ceilings were tall, the floors hardwood. Decorating the three bedroom house was still a work in progress, with most of my attention spent on perfecting the nursery. Harkins had painted the walls a neutral light green, and I had matching bedding with silver and white accents picked out and ready.

  Cole and Hailey, his mate, arrived soon after us. While Harkins and Cole set up the two matching, hand-carved cribs side by side in the nursery, Hailey and I had a chance to catch up.

  “Are you excited?” she asked, looking down at my enormous belly.

  “I am,” I said, holding my hands over the summersaulting twins.