The Artist Cries Wolf

by Heather Horrocks

  The little dog jumped on Samuel’s lap and the man put a hand on his back and petted him. She got the impression that Wolf was actually helping calm the big man.

  “You don’t know all the circumstances. What I am.”

  “Shh.” She put a finger to his lips. “I know you are a man of honor; a man who would never leave a buddy behind. You weren’t responsible for Adam’s death. Some bomb-wielding maniac was.” She sighed. “You have to get over it, Samuel. Adam would want you to.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Good.” Then, trying to distract him, she said, “Will you take me to the lake sometime? I’d like to see the Moonchuckle Bay that the town is named after.”

  “Sure. I’m off in three days. How about then? On Monday?”

  “I’d love it!” She’d been reading a bit about the history of the town since her arrival.

  Samuel turned the tables on her. “Would you also love going to dinner with me tomorrow night?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. “As in the dinner at your mother’s house with Olivia?”

  “You seem to have a fine grasp on the situation,” he said casually.

  “Thanks, but I think I’ll stay home and do something more enjoyable — like, say, poke out my eyeballs with a sharp stick.”

  “Deliberately is Such a Controversial Word

  “I REALLY, REALLY DON’T THINK this is a good idea.” Amber, eyeballs intact, stood beside the pickup door that Samuel was holding open for her. “As I told you last night, I already met your mother. She did not like me. With a capital N-O-T.”

  “It’ll be fine.” He gestured impatiently toward the truck seat.

  “She told me you’re taken and to leave you alone. Do you really think she’s going to be happy that you’re bringing me with you tonight?”

  “Last time I checked, this was a free country and grown men get to choose their dinner partners.” He smiled at her and caressed her cheek. “I choose you.”

  Her heart did a little dance. “Does it have to be dinner at your mother’s house?”

  Gently, he said, “Get in the truck. My mother won’t bite you. Not with me there.”

  Amber paused, then sighed. “You owe me big time for this, Samuel Winston.”

  “I know.” Making sure she was safely situated in the large vehicle, he walked around and climbed into the driver’s seat. “Buckle up.”

  She folded her hands across her chest. “I’m hoping we’re in a wreck and I don’t survive.”

  He grinned evilly. “Then my mother will come to your funeral and spit on your grave.”

  She laughed. “Great. Beaten in the end because I didn’t leave myself an out.”

  He started the rumbly truck and pulled out of the subdivision. “My mother wants what is best for me. She’s just a little ham-fisted about it.” He shook his head.

  “I’m getting the feeling that you’re not thrilled about your mother’s ham-fistedness, either.”

  He shook his head again. “You’d be right, there.”

  “So,” Amber said, turning in her seat to face him, “tell me about how you and Olivia became engaged.”

  “We are not engaged.”

  “Your mother says differently.”

  “She’s saying that? Using the word engaged?”

  Amber thought back. “No. Actually her word was taken. As in you are taken, because you belong to Olivia — as if you were engaged to her.”

  He was silent as he drove across town.

  She nudged his arm. “Tell me. I’m going to dinner with you and Olivia and your parents. I deserve to know what I’m up against.”

  “You’re right.” He shook his head yet again. “My parents and Olivia’s parents are … friends.”

  He used the word in a way that didn’t quite convey friendship to Amber. “Friends?”

  “Okay, not exactly friends. Acquaintances. Long-lost relatives. High up on the family tree.”

  “So no first-cousin birth defects?”

  “Gosh no.” He shuddered.

  “Well, that’s good, at least,” she said brightly. If she was going to have to attend this dinner, she might as well make the most of it, right? “Get to the good stuff. Or would that be the bad stuff?”

  “The bad stuff is that they have felt, for decades, that since Olivia and I played together well at family gatherings, that we should be married.”

  “And Olivia’s parents agree?”

  “Oh, yes. Olivia’s mother is nearly as bad as mine.”

  “That’s a recipe for marital disaster if I’ve ever heard one. Take one stubborn man, one beautiful but equally-stubborn woman, add two meddling mothers, and stir together vigorously in a mixing bowl.”

  “I’m taking myself out of the mixing bowl. I’ve told my mother that. I’ve told Olivia that — and she agrees.”

  “So let me get this straight. I’m going to dinner at the home of a woman who has wanted you to marry Olivia for how many years? Thirty?”

  “Give or take,” he said, pulling into the driveway of a McMansion.

  Amber stared up at the house and whistled. “And we’re having dinner at the family manse.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay,” she said. “Bring it.”

  He snorted a laugh. “All right. Let’s do this thing.”

  “I have a really bad feeling about this.”

  “I’ll take you to dinner Monday, after we go to the lake. To make up for this evening.”

  “And you’ll buy a steak for Wolf, too.”

  Rolling his eyes, he said, “Yes. Now quit clinging to the seat belt and let me help you out.”

  Samuel wasn’t looking forward to this dinner any more than Amber was, but he couldn’t blow it off.

  When the alpha of the Moonchuckle Bay area pack — which covered the entire state of Utah plus parts of Colorado and Wyoming — issued an invitation to dinner, a werewolf didn’t say no. And his father, Gene Winston, was that alpha. His father hadn’t issued the invitation himself, but an invitation from the alpha’s wife meant the same thing, even if it was his mother.

  So here Samuel stood, obeying his mother’s order and openly defying her, at the same time. She wouldn’t be pleased, but he hoped that by the end of the evening, she’d realize that he and Olivia weren’t a pair. He’d even heard rumors that Olivia was dating a werewolf from Colorado.

  Olivia’s father, alpha of the New Mexico pack, wanted an alliance, and Samuel’s parents agreed.

  Tonight wouldn’t be the time when he and Olivia out-and-out told either set of parents that the marriage wasn’t happening, but it wasn’t far off. Perhaps if he could convince his mother that he wasn’t interested in Olivia — and vice versa — then she would be able to talk with Olivia’s parents. His mother wasn’t usually completely unreasonable, just incredibly determined once she set her mind to something.

  Amber’s face was pale, so he reached out to take her hand. “It will be all right. She doesn’t eat artists.”

  “Not without ketchup, anyway.” Amber clung to his hand. “If there’s ketchup on the table, I’m hiding it.”

  He chuckled. “Yeah. Hey, your hand is cold, even though it’s eighty-five degrees out here. Come here.” He pulled her closer and slipped an arm around her shoulder.

  She slipped her arms around his waist.

  And that’s the moment his mother chose to open the door, her eyes widening at the sight of Amber with Samuel’s arm around her.

  Amber stepped away and let go of his hand.

  His mother whipped her gaze back to Samuel and tipped her head. “Did Olivia not make it clear that she was coming to dinner tonight?”

  “Oh, she did.” Samuel kissed the top of his feisty mother’s head and smiled down on her. “I hope you don’t mind that I brought my houseguest. I didn’t want to leave her all alone.”

  His mother sputtered, but quickly regained her composure and lied. “Of course I don’t mind. Welcome to my home, Ms. Newborn.”
/>   “Newman, Mom. Amber Newman.”

  “Oh, of course, come on in. Olivia is already here. She didn’t have a houseguest so she may feel left out.”

  Samuel wasn’t going to let her guilt trip work on him this time. Instead, he placed his hand on the small of Amber’s back as they stepped inside. Motioning toward the back of the house, he asked his mother, “Family room? Or are you already in the dining room?”

  “Family room.” Her voice was frosty. “We were waiting.”

  As his mother walked away, Amber looked up at him and whispered, “I really hope there’s no ketchup.”

  She probably thought his mother couldn’t hear, but of course she had superb werewolf hearing. Luckily, she wouldn’t understand the inside joke.

  They walked into the family room and his father and Olivia stood. Olivia grinned at the sight of Amber and hugged her. “I’m so glad to see you today, Amber.”

  Then she exchanged a look with Samuel. Hers said, This is crazy, and I don’t want to be here, and his answered, I know. Me neither.

  His mother said, “Dinner is ready. We were just waiting for you.”

  Why did his mother make it sound like they were late? He’d deliberately arrived five minutes early.

  His mother said, “Just let me have Rose place another setting at the table for our unexpected dinner guest.”

  As his mother left the room, Amber started to open her mouth, but Sam shook his head. He looked at his father. “Dad, I’d like you to meet my houseguest, Amber Newman. Amber, this is my father, Gene Winston.”

  Amber’s smile could light up a room, and his father’s reserve melted somewhat. He took Amber’s little hand in his big paw of a fist, and said, “Glad to meet you. Are you any relation to Sam’s friend, Adam?”

  “I’m his sister,” Amber said. “Twin sister.”

  “I’m sorry about what happened to him.”

  “Thank you,” Amber said. “So am I.”

  His mother returned. “Now we’re ready to eat.” She’d regained her composure and no longer looked as though she was about ready to have a stroke. But she definitely didn’t look happy. He’d seen that look just before he’d gotten punished for many a misdeed while growing up. His normally warm and loving mother could out-ice any snow pixie when she wasn’t pleased.

  The table had two place settings on one side, one on the other, and one on each end. He moved to seat Amber with him at the side-by-side settings, but his mother motioned to the other side. “Please, Amber, sit over here where you can see Sam.”

  “Mom—” he began, until she shot him another icy look. He paused and realized this wasn’t the hill on which he’d choose to die. He had much more important issues for that, coming soon — maybe later tonight, maybe in the coming weeks. So he decided he’d give in on tonight’s seating arrangements.

  Amber walked around and sat at her designated seat, a pleasant smile on her face. As she did, she partially disappeared behind the large glass vase full of tall red gladiolus.

  Samuel reached out and shifted the vase a few inches to the left until he could see most of her face.

  Amber mouthed, You. Owe. Me.

  He nodded back. Yes. Yes, he did.

  His mother had prepared one of Olivia’s favorite meals — any werewolf’s favorite, actually — steak. Red meat was always a favorite. Olivia also loved sweet potatoes and rolls, and his mother had had Rose spend hours fixing them, he was sure.

  After they were seated and his father said a blessing over the food, his mother motioned for everyone to begin eating. There was a lull in conversation as dishes were passed and plates were filled. The silence continued as they ate, and Samuel exchanged glances with Amber across the table.

  The corners of her lips quirked. Was she enjoying this?

  She fluttered her eyelashes at him and leaned to the side so he could see all of her face, and asked, sweetly, “Would you please pass the ketchup?”

  He couldn’t help but smile as he handed it to her and she proceeded to squeeze a tiny dab onto her plate. When his mother looked away, Amber hid the ketchup bottle behind the centerpiece.

  He choked back a laugh. His mother turned to see what was so funny. He took a sip of water. “Just went down the wrong pipe. I’m okay.”

  His mother looked suspicious, but simply said, “Olivia was just telling us about her school. She only has six months left before she graduates with her bachelor’s degree in Engineering Technology.”

  “Engineering Technology? That’s impressive,” Amber said. “I admire people with logical minds.”

  “You don’t like logic?” his mother asked, her voice dripping disdain.

  “I’m an artist and definitely right-brained, so it’s not so much that I don’t like it, as that I’m not very good at it.”

  “Olivia will be able to get any number of well-paying jobs.” His mother smiled. “And when you move here permanently,” his mother said meaningfully, “you can work in our business.”

  “That’s very generous of you,” Olivia said with a smile.

  His father said, “We’re always looking for people with your training.”

  His mother said, “Would someone pass the ketchup, please?”

  A guilty expression flashed across Amber’s face, and she reached out to hand it to his mother, who thanked her frostily.

  Then Amber looked at Sam, and he chuckled at the expression on her face.

  Olivia looked between them and smiled. No doubt she wanted to change the subject as badly as they did. “You’re an artist? That is so exciting! What do you paint?”

  “Here in Moonchuckle Bay, I paint monsters and tourists. They seem to love it. I’ve already sold one.”

  “I’d love to see one,” Olivia said enthusiastically.

  “I’d love to show you,” Amber said. “And I can do all sorts of portraits, still lifes, and fantasy artwork as well.”

  His mother cleared her throat, and they all looked at her.

  “Olivia and Samuel, there are important things we need to talk about, but perhaps we can have another dinner to discuss those.”

  “Mom, I’m going to be pretty busy for the next few weeks. I have a special assignment.” He deliberately didn’t look at Amber as he said that, but he was taking his protection of her seriously.

  Olivia was clearly of the same mind, as she added, “Mrs. Winston, I have tests coming up so it will be hard for me to get away, too.”

  His mother looked between the three of them, and then at his father.

  Dad looked uncomfortable, and shrugged. “They’re busy, Nancy.”

  “Too busy to get on with their lives?”

  Amber studied Samuel. He quirked a smile at her, and she smiled back. He suspected she was going to grill him some more when they left, but getting grilled by Amber was preferable to going up against his mother. Or his father, if Mom got him involved. Before she could do just that, Sam said, “Why don’t we put a date on the calendar a few weeks out? That will give us all time to review our calendars and set another date.”

  He nearly groaned as his mother smiled at his unfortunate wording. “Setting a date is an excellent idea.” She looked meaningfully at Samuel and Olivia.

  Olivia pulled out her phone. “I’d love to get something on my calendar.”

  His mother wasn’t going to give up on this idea unless he openly rebelled, apparently.

  Would he have to move out of town to get out of this arranged marriage talk? Would he be willing to go to those drastic measures, if it came to that?

  He looked at Amber. If it meant he was free to pursue her, he just might be willing to give up Moonchuckle Bay.

  “The Jaws theme music? Are you serious?” Amber looked at Samuel. “That seems to defeat the purpose of inviting people to the beach here at Moonchuckle Lake.”

  “This is Shark Beach.” He chuckled. “In keeping with the monster theme. It’s not very loud, though, and they play Beach Boys style music on the other side of the bay.”
<
br />   “Why are these people running out into the water as if shark music isn’t playing? Are they insane?”

  He laughed. “Adventuresome.”

  “I can think of other words to describe them.” She shivered. “May we go to the Beach Boys side, please?” She gave a shiver. “This is creeping me out.”

  “Sure,” he said. “Surf’s Up Beach, coming right up.”

  “There’s no surf, though, right?”

  “Right. Just as there are no sharks.”

  “Then what on earth is that?” She pointed to a huge fin moving slowly around the cove.

  “It’s a shark float. It holds up to ten people.”

  As he continued driving around the lake, the spooky music faded and, as they drove into the parking lot of the second beach, the sounds of Surfin’ U.S.A. floated into the cab of the truck.

  “Ahh. That is so much better!”

  He laughed at her expression. “This is the monster movie capital of the world, you know. We have to keep a certain level of creepiness going all the time. Though,” he admitted, “it’s usually young adults and older teenagers who go to the shark side of the bay. Families tend to congregate here. And this is actually a larger, nicer beach.”

  Sliding down out of his truck, she grabbed the large tote bag that held their lakeside essentials — sun screen, her swimsuit cover-up, their towels — and closed the door.

  He slung a blanket over his shoulder and carried a backpack filled with food prepared by Ilene Goodall at A Bite To Eat Café. He took Amber’s hand, and they walked along the beach. People called out greetings to him, and he waved and smiled. Amber stopped and took off her flip-flops so that she could enjoy the feel of warm, fine sand beneath her toes.

  People began pointing upward, and a shadow moved over the crowd.

  Amber looked up and gasped. “Is that the dragon kite?”

  “Impressive, isn’t it?” Samuel led her to a nice spot that wasn’t too crowded — the beach was popular — and laid down the blanket and cooler.

  She stood and watched the kite, amazed at how lifelike it looked. It flew and bobbed and swirled, catching the wind and soaring here, flapping there. Finally, it flew off in the distance.