by Zoe Chant
Lillian was the big sister, after all, by over seven years. It wasn’t right that Teri had been left to fend for herself like that.
Teri was quiet for a long while. “Thanks,” she said finally. “That means a lot, to hear that.”
Lillian nodded. “Good. You deserved better.”
“I did,” Teri said, with an edge of fierceness. Then she softened, taking on a faraway look. “But...it meant something to me, to break away on my own. You know? No one was letting me stand on my own two feet, so I stood up myself and walked away. And I’m proud of that.”
“Good,” Lillian said again, although her voice broke a little. Her heart was breaking a little, too. No matter how proud of herself Teri was, she shouldn’t have had to do that.
Teri’s eyes focused again, lighting on Lillian with a narrow look. “What about you?” she asked.
Lillian frowned. “What about me? I just told you that I’m sorry, and I truly meant it.”
“No, I mean—you’re still living at home. When are you going to leave?”
“Oh—Teri, I can’t.” The idea made her feel wistful...but it was impossible. For now, she was stuck.
And actually—Lillian made a quick mental note to call her parents to let them know she’d be out tonight. Her mother would hit the roof, but that was easy to circumvent over the phone. There’d be consequences later on, but she’d have to worry about that later on.
Right now, Teri was looking determined. “Sure you can. You said you were moving back in after the divorce to help Mom and Dad out...but they don’t need any help, really. They’re not sick, or too old to take care of themselves. And it’s been two years. You should have your own place.”
“It’s not that simple, Teri.” Lillian made herself sound firm. “You don’t have all the information.”
Teri frowned. “So tell me the information.”
Lillian shook her head. Teri didn’t need to know all of the sad, sordid details. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
Teri accepted that, although her mutinous expression suggested that this wasn’t the last time she’d bring up the subject.
“What are we going to do for dinner?” Lillian asked, to distract her. Teri brightened immediately. Lillian followed her down to the kitchen, determined once again to be happy that her sister was happy. After all, that was enough, wasn’t it? She didn’t need anything more than that.
There was no need to be selfish, after all.
***
It took Cal a while to track any of the mountain lions down.
They weren’t at Oliver’s, the local diner, where he stopped first to have a bite. He nodded at Nina, the waitress and Joel’s new mate, when she served him. “Seen any of Gordon Hennessey’s crowd in here tonight?”
She shook her head. “Not so far. They usually come in later, though. Drinking.”
Cal nodded. “And how’re you? Settling in?”
Nina’s lips curved in a small smile. “Yes, I am. This is a good place to live. Thank you for letting me stay.”
“No one let anyone do anything,” Cal said. “I’m not in charge of who stays and who goes. If you’re happy here, there’s no reason to leave.”
Nina nodded, although Cal got the sense that she might be humoring him.
He didn’t linger, finishing up his sandwich and fries and leaving a good tip behind, before setting out to sniff out some mountain lions.
He tried one of the local seedy bars, and then the other. He checked the lumber yard, where Gordon worked, and then the broken-down house where he and his girlfriend lived. A couple of hours passed, and he had to give up on the idea of confronting Gordon and his crew in public. It was time to take the search further out.
Gordon’s house was near the edge of town, and it was only a short walk to the beginning of the forest that stretched out for miles around. Cal ducked into the trees and shifted as soon as he was out of sight.
It wasn’t hard to pick up a scent. He followed Gordon’s trail from his job at the lumber yard to one of the seedy bars, and then away from the bar toward the edge of town. He lost it at one point on the street—Gordon must’ve been picked up by one of his crew in a car—but followed his instincts and headed out into the forest.
Sure enough, when he got near enough to Gordon’s brother’s cabin, he could hear a raucous noise coming from it, as the local mountain lions partied away the day.
He frowned. There were a good ten mountain lion shifters in the area, but only four or five of them were the sort of troublemaking men who might be the one stalking Lillian. On the other hand, four or five angry shifters was more than Cal would want to deal with out here on his own. He knew his capabilities, both as a talker and as a fighter, and those were long odds.
His leopard growled, We can take them.
Cal’s leopard was sometimes too eager for his own good.
Still, he wasn’t about to just turn around and go home. He shifted to human, walked up to the cabin, and knocked on the door—loudly enough to penetrate the noise.
There was a pause, and then someone yelled something indistinct at someone else, and then the door was yanked open. Gordon Hennessey’s scowling face stared out at him, and then contracted even further into a ferocious frown. “What do you want?”
“Just here to clear something up,” Cal said politely. “One of my people tells me there’s a mountain lion’s been harassing her sister. Following her around, that sort of thing. You know anything about that? Or maybe your brother does?”
Ordinarily, Cal wouldn’t have leaned on the my people like that. But Gordon was one of those shifters who didn’t much respect the law, the town, the human world, or anything but shifter pack-bonds. So if Cal wanted to get a response, he had to present himself as a fellow alpha.
The frown deepened. “Wayne!” Gordon barked, without taking his eyes from Cal’s for a second.
There was a long pause, and then Wayne Hennessey’s face appeared in the doorway next to his brother’s. His appearance hadn’t changed since Cal had last seen him: longish brown hair and beard, narrow face, and he was wearing a dirty white tank top and jeans.
“You bothering the snow leopards?” Gordon asked him.
Wayne’s face twisted into a surprised scowl. “What? No, what do I care about the snow leopards?”
“How about Lillian Lowell?” Cal put in. “Nice lady, pretty, blonde? Complaining about a mountain lion stalking her at her work?”
Wayne’s expression turned truculent. “She ain’t a snow leopard.”
“Her sister is.”
“Well, send her sister on down here, then!” Wayne’s eyes widened, and he nudged his brother. “We’d be A-okay with some pretty lady snow leopard coming to pay us a visit, wouldn’t we, Gordy?”
“Sure would.” Gordon’s face was impenetrable.
“Wayne,” Cal said, mustering as much patience as he could find, keeping his leopard locked way down, “what’re you after from Ms. Lowell? You just having fun? Can’t get a date on your own?”
“I get plenty of ladies, thank you,” Wayne sniffed. “Nah, I guess you can tell the lady yourself if you want. It’s not her, it’s her husband. He owes me.”
Husband. Her husband. The word struck a heavy chord of wrongness in Cal. “Ms. Lowell isn’t married,” he said carefully.
Neither she nor Teri had mentioned a husband, and she hadn’t been wearing a ring. So she couldn’t be married. Right?
“She was,” Wayne said. “And hubby’s tapped dry, so now it’s her turn. So you tell her that she can deliver the money, or she’s going to have a lot worse to deal with.”
“Threats, Wayne?” Cal asked softly. His leopard was rising in his chest, ready to shift and pounce.
Suddenly Gordon was filling the doorway, taking up more space than he had before. “Doesn’t look like you’re in a position to handle threats, little snow kitty,” he rumbled. “There’s five of us in here, and one of you.”
It rankled to back
down, but it was the truth. If there was one thing he’d learned in the Marines, it was that trying to be a lone hero was one of the dumbest things a man could do.
“Wayne,” he said at last, “why didn’t you just tell this to Ms. Lowell instead of stalking her around town?”
Wayne grinned, revealing yellowed teeth. “This way’s more fun.”
“That all, snow kitty?” Gordon asked. “You want to interrogate me about my day too?”
“That’s all,” Cal said. “Be seeing you.”
“Sure will, I bet,” Wayne said, still grinning. Gordon shut the door with a final-sounding thunk.
Cal fought down his leopard’s snarling desire to beat the door down and make those mountain lions leave Lillian be. Nobody would benefit from him getting himself beaten up by five good-for-nothings. Least of all Lillian Lowell.
He sighed to himself, shifted, and headed back to town.
By the time he got back to his truck, it was late—after ten. He thought about his options, then called Teri.
“Hi,” she chirped, sounding cheerful as ever. “What’s up?”
“Found out a few things,” said Cal. “But it’s late enough to call it a day. I think your sister’s safe enough tonight. I’ll swing by tomorrow when you’re on your way to work, take over keeping an eye out for you, and talk the situation over.”
He wanted to go over tonight. Talk to Lillian again, tell her what was up.
Ask her about that husband.
But it was late. She needed sleep, if she’d been running scared from a stalker for days now. Cal could wait until the morning.
“Sounds good,” Teri said. “We’ve got Joel and Nina here, camping out, so it’s a full house if anyone decides to show up.”
“Good,” Cal said, filled with an odd kind of satisfaction at the idea of the group of them all pulling together to help. “See you tomorrow.”
“First thing!” Teri hung up.
Cal was left shaking his head at the phone. How that girl managed to be so upbeat no matter what, he’d never know.
Meanwhile, it was time to get back to the Park and finish up his interrupted workday.
And keep himself from heading back to that cabin and giving those mountain lions an idea of what this Marine thought about terrifying women because of some asshole’s debt.
That was an assumption, he reminded himself. He’d never met Lillian’s husband—ex-husband—and so he had no idea whether the man was an asshole or just a good man who’d gotten into a bad situation.
But he was leaning toward the former. And his leopard growled agreement.
He wondered if that was what had led to Lillian’s air of being so—confined. Contained. As though her personality was kept so carefully managed, so deeply buried, that it could only come out through that lens of perfect, feminine courtesy. He could imagine her at some kind of state function, taking hands and greeting people, all with that calm, reasoned tone of voice that she’d used to describe being scared and upset.
It made him angry.
And that didn’t make any sense. It wasn’t any of his business whether Lillian Lowell had perfect manners or not, and there was nothing wrong with it if she did.
But he couldn’t help wondering what was underneath. And who she showed it to, if anyone. And how he might find out.
Stop it, he scolded himself. The woman was scared, and obviously wary of shifters, for all that her sister was one. The right thing to do was to protect her, show her how shifters could be decent people, and let her go on with her life.
And meanwhile, get back to the Park and do his actual job.
***
Lillian woke up to a strange sense of well-being.
Normally, her day started with a rush of anxiety. She’d be thinking about what her mother needed before it was time to leave for work, what problems and upsets had arisen during the night, how quickly she could get everything done.
She envied Teri so much, sometimes. The way she’d just taken a step and...flown away.
But that wasn’t an option for everyone. Lillian couldn’t leave the way Teri had, so she was just going to have to deal with it.
But having a morning off, even if it was because of a crazy shifter stalker, was an unexpected relief.
Lillian got up, resigned to wearing the same clothing she’d worn yesterday. She hadn’t wanted to go home and potentially lead the mountain lion there, so she didn’t have a change—and she was four inches taller than Teri and noticeably more curved, so she wasn’t going to be able to borrow anything.
She’d called her parents the previous night to let them know she wouldn’t be home. She’d spoken calmly and simply, declined to say why, and hung up. Teri had watched her with envy.
“I didn’t realize you knew how to do that,” she’d said. “It took me forever to learn how to stop getting all defensive and justifying myself. Why don’t you do it more often?”
Lillian had just shrugged, not wanting a repeat of the argument about why she was still living at home, and gone up to bed.
Now, it was morning. A quiet morning, despite the number of people in the house. Lillian washed up, dressed in yesterday’s clothes with only a little wince—fortunately, she always carried deodorant in her purse—and came downstairs.
Zach was in the kitchen cooking breakfast. It was such an odd sight, to see a man in the kitchen, as though flipping pancakes, humming to himself, still barefoot, was just an ordinary thing to do in the morning, that Lillian almost stopped and stared.
She recovered herself before he noticed, though, and said, “Good morning. Can I do anything to help?”
He turned, with what she’d already realized was his characteristic broad smile. “Nope. Just take a seat. You’re welcome to coffee or juice or anything.” He indicated the counters with a broad sweep of his hand.
Lillian had to admire Teri’s taste. Zach was a cheerful, personable, good-looking man...who made breakfast. Young, of course—though she didn’t know when she’d started looking at the mid-twenties as practically babyhood. But for all his youth, he seemed serious and responsible, and she was glad for Teri.
Another head poked into the kitchen, this one belonging to Teri’s sister-in-law, Nina. Lillian had met her briefly the night before, and learned that she was quiet, a bit shy, but had a hidden fierceness that had come out when she’d told Lillian privately that no matter what happened, the leopards in the house were ready for anything, and Lillian didn’t need to worry.
Lillian had been hopelessly charmed. Nina was even younger than Teri, and a beautiful girl—also one of the only African-American women Lillian had ever seen settle up here in northern Montana—and Lillian wished a little wistfully that she could have the opportunity to get to know her better.
Maybe. Maybe if this all got settled, Lillian could work out a way to keep seeing Teri, and Teri’s new family, without disrupting her home too much. Perhaps she could invent some kind of library event once a week, or pretend that the work schedules had changed and she was working two evenings instead of one, and come visit for dinner without their mother knowing.
If she’d be welcome. She hoped so.
“Please sit down.” Lillian smiled at Nina. “Do you want some coffee?”
Nina nodded fervently. “Coffee would be lovely, thank you. We were up in shifts.”
Lillian paused, halfway to the cupboard where she’d learned the mugs were stored. “You didn’t sleep? Just because of me?” Behind her, Teri tripped into the kitchen, her blonde curls in their usual morning frizz, rubbing her eyes. Lillian turned on her. “Teri, did you keep this poor girl from getting any sleep just because of my silly problem?”
Teri’s eyes flew wide, and she held up her hands. “Whoa, wait! Everyone volunteered. And agreed. Nothing is my fault!”
Nina broke in, nodding vigorously. “We want to keep you safe. No one should have to deal with that. And it’s—it’s bad for shifters, when some of them behave like that. It makes it hard for the ot
hers, because it means humans are afraid of them, or it means that there are fewer good packs out there to join.”
There was a wealth of sadness—bitterness?—in Nina’s voice. Lillian wondered what her story was. All she’d said when Lillian had mentioned she’d never seen her around before was that she’d come in from out of town.
“I just don’t want any of you inconveniencing yourselves for what’s probably nothing,” Lillian insisted. “Don’t lose sleep on my account.”
“We’ll lose as much sleep as we choose,” Teri said, going for the coffee. Then she softened the words with a smile. “It’s worth it to me. I want you to be safe.”
Seeing protectiveness from her younger sister was very, very strange, Lillian decided as she sat back down and sipped her coffee.
Being hosted by her was even more strange—Teri went to set the table and help Zach finish cooking, and they all sat down to breakfast together. It was a pleasant meal, though mostly quiet.
Lillian had gotten used to her mother’s litany of complaints every morning over breakfast. It was shocking how restful it was to go without them.
She insisted on cleaning up afterward, as everyone else had to go to work. Lillian had called in sick.
“Am I coming to the Park with you, then?” she asked Teri.
Teri shook her head. “Cal said he was going to stop by this morning. He learned a few things last night, apparently, and he wanted to tell you about them. I don’t know when, though.”
There was a knock on the door.
“Now, I guess,” Zach said, and went to answer; the bass rumble of Cal Westland’s voice drifted down the hall.
Lillian came forward to say hello, and found herself startled at how much room the man took up. She’d thought she had a sense of how tall and broad he was when he’d been seated at his desk yesterday, but really she’d had no idea. He was well over six feet, and his shoulders seemed endless.
Lillian wasn’t a small woman, in height or in weight, and she’d gotten used to feeling a bit large and ungainly around most men. But Cal made her feel positively petite.
“Thank you for taking time out of your day.” She was annoyed to hear her voice come out just a tad breathless. The man was doing her a favor, and probably missing some work because of it. There was no need to get all girlish over him as an additional burden.