Wolf-Way (Wolf of my Heart)

by Linda Palmer

  Wolf-Way

  Written by Linda Palmer

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. Ebooks are not transferrable and are to be read by the purchaser only.

  Publisher’s Note:

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, businesses, and incidents are from the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual places, people, or events is purely coincidental. Any trademarks mentioned herein are not authorized by the trademark owners and do not in any way mean the work is sponsored by or associated with the trademark owners. Any trademarks used are specifically in a descriptive capacity.

  Cover Artist: Linda Palmer

  Editor: J.M. Smith

  First Edition

  © 2010, Linda Palmer

  Wild Horse Press

  P. O. Box 341642

  Bartlett, TN 38135

  www.the-wild-horse-press.com

  Prologue

  Prowling the forest for food, I saw everything through a she-wolf's eyes. A chilly, snow-scented wind ruffled my fur. I sensed movement ahead. Crouching, I inched toward my prey.

  A lonely howl stopped me in my tracks. I sniffed the air; I looked into the shadows; I saw him. Another wolf, red with green eyes. He returned the glance, but didn't bare his fangs. Instead, he loped toward me.

  My perfect match. My mate.

  Forever.

  Chapter One

  "I need to see the witch doctor."

  My eyes swept the stranger standing on my grandfather's front porch. Three words popped into my head. What. An. Idiot.

  "In case you hadn't noticed, you're in the good ol' USA. There are no witch doctors around here."

  That put some pink on his ashen cheeks. "I meant medicine man. I need to see the medicine man." The words still seemed to fluster him, and not once did he meet my curious gaze. "I think his name is John Rainbow."

  "It's Rainbolt, and he prefers to be called a shaman."

  "Er, right. So is he here, or not?"

  "Not."

  Incredibly green eyes shifted to lock with my ordinary brown ones. "When will he be back?"

  "Sunday."

  "Damn. Can I wait for him?"

  "Up to you. Come back around noon tomorrow if you do." I started to close the door against the bitter cold.

  His snow-encrusted boot prevented that. "I meant can I wait here."

  "Here as in here here?"

  "Yeah."

  "Overnight?"

  "Yeah." His teeth chattered; he hugged himself and looked past me at the flames crackling and popping in the fireplace. That's when I realized he wore no coat. Geez. No wonder the guy's lips matched his jeans.

  Could I let him freeze to death on Chief's porch? Um...no.

  And his good looks had nothing to do with that decision. I could never turn away someone who needed help.

  "You can come in for a bit, but I'm not putting you up tonight." I briefly wondered if Cody had his BB gun still propped behind the door of his old bedroom. Though my youngest half-brother left the reservation a year ago for college, Chief kept his room exactly the same, something Cody appreciated whenever he came home to visit.

  This guy, who could've been anywhere between seventeen and twenty, stomped his feet hard on the rubber mat, then stepped inside so fast that our arms brushed. My flesh tingled at the contact, and not because of his frozen skin. That sensation meant one thing only--a wolf in boy's clothing. So why in the heck didn't he just shift and den up somewhere with his pack? Very intrigued, I actually thought of linking with him, a shocking idea that hadn't occurred to me for years.

  I shut the door on the bitter Colorado night and motioned my guest toward the fire. He crossed the room in two strides and knelt so close to the blaze I worried a stray spark might get him.

  "Would you like some coffee or hot chocolate or tea?" He'd definitely warm faster from the inside out.

  "Either one would be really great." He briskly rubbed his biceps and muscled forearms, his full attention on the fire.

  Before heading to the kitchen, I impulsively walked over and offered him my right hand. "I'm Tehya Crane, by the way."

  He jumped up and awkwardly shook it. "Rhyan Knox. Thanks for letting me in." Though his fingers felt warmish and the snowflakes on his short hair had now melted to droplets, I saw his lips had not changed hue.

  But I couldn't risk feeling sorry for him. "I should tell you I have a gun, and I know how to use it."

  What might've been a smile tugged at the corner of that kissable mouth. "You're safe with me."

  I'd expected nothing less, of course, once I knew of his dual nature, but he remained an unknown entity, with me uncharacteristically alone in the house. Pivoting, I went to make us both something to drink. By the time I returned to the den with two ceramic mugs of hot chocolate, my visitor looked much better and had settled himself on one of the wooden hearth benches angling away from a fire that cast dancing shadows on the wall. I handed him his chocolate, a Denver Broncos throw stolen from my other half-brother’s bed, and a dry towel I'd snagged from the bathroom.

  "What do you need Chief for?" I asked as I sat on the bench opposite his. Unlike Ryan, I kept my distance from the flames, which burned very hot.

  His eyes narrowed. "Chief?"

  "My granddad." I saw his confusion. "He's not really one. It's just a family joke because he..." I stopped. Should I talk about that to a stranger? "Why are you here?" Obviously he didn't want to be turned into a wolf, which was the usual reason teenage Native American boys came to call.

  Rhyan sipped his drink, then carefully set down the mug and began toweling dry his hair and arms while I waited for his answer. "Actually, it's sort of personal."

  "Oh." I tried to think of something neutral to say, but chitchat had never been my forte. For the second time I thought of linking with him. Since I guessed that could be as intimate as sex if a guy were involved, I mentally vetoed the idea again. Not that I knew for sure. I actually had little experience with linking and none with sex.

  My unwanted guest wrapped the throw around his shoulders, then took a drink of his cocoa before asking, "How do you spell Tay-ya?" He pronounced it just as I had.

  I gave him the letters.

  "What kind of name is that?"

  "Quantauk, just like me."

  "Does it mean something?"

  "Precious." I rolled my eyes so he'd know I knew I wasn't. "What kind of name is Ryan?" Though he had the perfect skin tone for a fellow Native American, his amazing eyes, short dark curls, and heavy five o'clock shadow could only mean a mixed heritage. Naturally, I wondered how and when he'd become a wolf. Just because I didn't know of any other tribe that did things the way we did, didn't mean there weren't some. He undoubtedly belonged to one of them.

  "Irish. I'm named after my grandpa, which is why there's an h in it. God, I hate that stupid h. No one ever spells it right."

  No wonder he asked me how to spell mine. It mattered to him. And since I knew all about stray h's, I immediately corrected the spelling from Ryan to Rhyan in my head. "Does your name mean anything?"

  "No idea."

  Fresh out of small talk, I drank my cocoa and tried to play it cool. In seconds, the silence became so awkward that I broke it. "Where are you from?" When he didn't answer right away, I blurted, "Sorry. Don't know why I'm so nosy tonight."

  He shrugged. "Birmingham's the last place I live
d, but I'm originally from Shreveport."

  "How long have you been shifting?"

  Rhyan's mug hit the wooden floor and broke into pieces. "Shit!" He knelt on one knee and began to mop up the mess with the towel, a task complicated by the fact that he never took his wide eyes off me. Finally, he gave it up and just stared. "How'd you know?"

  "Know what?"

  "That I'm a Were."

  He called himself a Were? How Hollywood was that?

  "I'm sort of psychic." Extending my arms in front of me, I waved my fingers at him and used my spookiest voice, "WoooOOOH, right?" I set aside my chocolate, squatted down next to him, and took over clean up. "Actually, I live with a shifter. I'll get you another drink."

  Rhyan's curious stare followed me into the kitchen, where I dumped the mug pieces in the trash and the towel in the sink. I emptied a packet of Swiss Miss with extra marshmallows into another and poured more hot water from the teakettle that stayed on the stove all winter. It wasn't until I turned to go back that I realized Rhyan had followed me and now leaned against the doorjamb watching my every move.

  "What?" I asked in response to his intensely puzzled gaze.

  "Are you for real?"

  "Are you?"

  He didn't answer, either.

  Hm. "Why are you here, Rhyan-with-an-h Knox?" I thrust the cocoa at him. "You might as well tell me. Chief will." Or not.

  He sighed. "I heard that he could help me."

  "Do what?"

  "Get rid of this curse."

  I sucked in a shocked breath. "You've been cursed?" As granddaughter of a shaman, I knew such things actually existed.

  "Well, yeah."

  He said that as if I should already know. That confused me. Had I missed something? For the third time, I felt that unexplainable, incredibly strong urge to link with Rhyan. I still resisted it. Getting into anyone's head could be quite traumatic, something I'd learned the hard way. Besides that, no one around here needed to know I could do it. That's why I hadn't since the age of eight.

  Brushing past him, I went back to the den. He followed. We both sat again. One minute of silence stretched to two, then five, then ten. Finally I just couldn't stand the awkwardness or the thundering tick of Chief' stupid cuckoo clock any longer.

  "Where's your coat?"

  "My POS car got stuck in the snow a few miles down the road, and I tried to put it under the tire for traction."

  "POS?"

  "Piece. Of. Shit." His eyes narrowed. "You don't get out much, do you?"

  "I get out plenty, thank you. And leaving your coat in the snow doesn't exactly qualify you as a genius, either."

  "The car rolled a few inches, then buried up again. I couldn't pull it free from the tire. "

  I laughed. I couldn't help it. He glared at me until I managed to convert my giggles into a fake cough. "So you walked the rest of the way? No wonder you were freezing."

  "I’m okay." His gaze met mine. "Do you have a garage, a barn, or a tool shed I can sleep in? I don't have a way to get out of here tonight, and I don't think the snow's going to stop any time soon."

  For several seconds, I just looked at him. I honestly felt no fear, but I wasn't that good a judge of character even if I knew a wolf when I touched one. Besides, if my last boyfriend was anything to go by, no guy could really be trusted, as in not all wolves had fur.

  Still...

  "We have empty beds upstairs. You can bunk in one of them."

  His face lit up. "Yeah?"

  "Yeah. Do you need dry clothes?"

  "My gear's in my car, a couple of miles down the road. I could go get it."

  "Please don't risk it. In case you haven't heard, this is a hundred-year winter."

  He looked down at his wet tee and jeans. "Then I guess these will be okay."

  "One of my brothers probably has something you can borrow. Levi and Cody are both about your size." Minus the muscles, plus a couple of inches in height. Not that Rhyan was short. He probably stood five-ten in his bare feet, which made him tall to me.

  "How many brothers do you have?"

  "Two, both older, and they're actually half-brothers."

  "Where are they?"

  "Off living their lives." As opposed to me, stuck here and longing for different. I stood and started toward the hall. He followed.

  "So you're alone?"

  Braking sharply, I turned. "I have neighbors a shout away."

  "Don't get your thong in a twist. You really are safe with me."

  Sighing, I headed straight to Levi's room, the closest, with Rhyan on my heels.

  "Why do you live with your grandfather?"

  "My parents are dead."

  "Oh. Sorry."

  "It's okay. It was all a long time ago." Not finding anything I could use, I edged past Rhyan and went on down to Cody's room. That closet had clothes in it. I began to rifle through them.

  "Did your granddad raise you?"

  "He took on me and my half-brothers when my dad was killed by a car bomb in Afghanistan. I was eight. Dad's first wife had died years earlier from a heart attack. His second wife, who was Chief's daughter and my mom, adopted his two boys and then had me. She died a couple of months after he did. Cancer. These days, I'm the only kid still hanging around. Levi works for a lawyer in Washington DC. Cody's a senior at UC Denver."

  "So he took in two boys who weren't even related to him?"

  "Only after I said I wouldn't live with him unless he did." I felt the usual stab of guilt for clearing that up. "Not to downplay his generosity. I mean, it was incredible what he did considering the court intended to make me go with him either way."

  I quickly located jeans and a tee that would work before digging around for dry underwear in the dresser drawer. I handed Rhyan the clothes and then led the way to the dorm upstairs. His eyes widened when we entered the massive room that was Chief's second floor.

  "What's all this?" He eyed the single beds--six of them in all--identically made up with brightly patterned wool blankets and feather pillows stuffed into crisp white cases. Each bed had a chest of drawers next to it.

  "We have a lot of guests. The bathroom's down the hall. I'll throw on a couple of extra burgers. Dinner should be ready in twenty or so." Though I could tell Rhyan had more questions, I didn't intend to encourage, much less answer them, so pointed to the nearest bed and left him. In seconds, I heard his bare feet padding down the stairs behind me.

  "Is this place some kind of boarding house?"

  I glanced over my shoulder to find him shirtless and right on my heels. The tattered bottoms of Cody's jeans dragged the ground.

  What a sight! One that shouldn't have fazed me since I saw half-naked guys all the time. This time I could barely make my tongue work. His full-color tattoo, which lay right over his heart, might've had something to do with it: a wolf inside a full moon. "N-no."

  "Then why do you have so many beds?"

  Thoroughly flustered, I whirled to fully face him. "You seriously expect me to answer your questions when you won't answer mine?"

  "My bad." Rhyan put on the shirt.

  Clearheaded once more, I went straight to the kitchen, where I set an iron skillet on the stove and lit the burner. Rhyan's steady gaze felt soft as a caress, and I could tell exactly where it landed even though I had my back to him. First, on what I considered my best feature--my black hair, worn straight and hanging halfway to my waist. Second, on the bare flesh between my chopped-off tee and my low-rise jeans, clothing Chief and my big brothers considered indecent. And, third, on my butt, which was not my best feature. When I turned toward the fridge, his attention shifted to my chest.

  I knew what he saw. Since running around half dressed qualified as a rare luxury, I'd taken full advantage of my alone time tonight and gone braless. Trust fate to send more testosterone my way. What made things more awkward was that fact that I actually could've gobbled up this guy and enjoyed every yummy bite...if I dated wolves, which I so did not.

  "You're sta
ring at my boobs."

  He startled. "I'm a guy."

  I thrust the package of ground beef at him. "Wash your hands first."

  Darting out the door, I jogged to my room and furiously yanked my arms from the sleeves of my tee. I put on my sexiest bra--the one with see-through lace and underwire-- then tugged down the shirt I was not going to change for any guy no matter what.

  When I got back to the wolf, he kept his attention glued to the meat he carefully shaped into burgers. I could tell the effort cost him dearly.

  "Rhyan?"

  He looked at me.

  I flashed him to end the suspense.

  Chapter Two

  He burst into laughter. That surprised me so much, I wound up laughing, too, which really cleared the air. Suddenly I felt as if I'd known him my whole life. How odd. I was usually as bad with strangers as with small talk.

  Shaking my head, I washed my own hands and began slapping down the patties Rhyan handed to me. After salting each, I left them to locate buns and chips.

  "I've never met a girl like you before."

  I looked over my shoulder at him. "And what makes me so different?"

  "Not sure yet, well, beyond your reaction to--" His voice trailed off. All at once, he looked very embarrassed. "You should've slapped my face when I mentally felt you up a while ago. Instead, you made me laugh."