Wolf's Oath (After the Crash 3.25)

by Maddy Barone

  “Let me know when you’re tired,” Des said.

  She became tired quickly. Her ankle had healed enough that moving around the House didn’t bother her too much. She didn’t always need to use her cane at home. Maneuvering through snow and over ice was much more difficult, though. She flagged her husband down in only a few minutes. Des swung her up in his arms with an expression of pride overlaid by love that passed so quickly she almost missed it. She held him around the neck and put her face against his flimsy jacket, listening to his heart pounding a strong and steady rhythm.

  How could he love her if he didn’t know her? What exactly were her feelings for him? She liked him. She trusted him to keep his promise and protect the women. Sex with him was fantastic. Did that add up to love? She turned those thoughts over and over in her head for the next hour. The wind picked up again and she was glad to hide her face in Des’ warmth.

  When they were only a few blocks from the Plane Women’s House, Des suddenly leapt forward to a narrow gap between two buildings. Renee and Marissa were already there and Standing Bear was half a step behind them, holding Sherry. Belatedly, Connie registered a disturbance in the rear of their formation. Des set her gently down and whirled to face whatever the threat was. A horse came up the road at a pace too fast for the icy conditions. Connie lifted her head to watch Tracker go into a half-crouch. The rider dismounted and hurried a few yards toward them, hands up in the universal signal that he was peaceful. The long knitted scarf he wore blew in the wind that had picked up.

  “You gotta go back!” the man shouted at Tracker. “Dick Dickinson is attacking the Wolfe place! He’s got twenty-five gunmen and he wants to steal Miss Tami!”

  Connie’s stomach lurched. The den was under attack? She shot a glance at Des. The side of his face was all she could see. His growl was an enraged, feral rumble. Standing Bear yelled, “Look at Tracker! He has a wolf!”

  Connie jerked her head back around to see that Tracker had been replaced by a wolf wearing Tracker’s clothes. Holy crap! His outline shimmered in the air before he solidified back into himself. Against her, she could feel Des’ muscles tighten and his breath come in short, rapid bursts. “Tracker, take Mikey, Rain, Snake, and Alex and head back to the den,” he rapped out. “The rest of us will follow as soon as we get the women safe.”

  Then he scooped her up and lunged into a dead run, carrying her safely and securely over snow-covered iced roads to the Plane Women’s House.

  “Open the gate!” he shouted when they were still several yards away.

  Faron’s guards looked startled and not in too much of a hurry. Connie yanked her hat off to show her distinctive blond hair. “Open the damn gate!” she screamed.

  The gate opened, scraping over the built-up snow. Des rushed into the yard and put her down gently. She freed her cane from under her arm and used it to balance herself. Around them the other men halted with women in tow.

  Des crushed her to his chest. “I have to go.”

  The anguish in his voice stabbed her. “I know.” She made herself sound calm and confident, the same tone she and Paul had used when speaking to each other, knowing either of them could be flying into danger at any time. “I’ll be waiting for you when you get back.”

  He kissed her with desperation, his arms clenching around her. “Stay here, Connie. Don’t leave the House for any reason. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  She took a step back and put on a smile to hide the way her heart pounded. “I’ll see you soon, then.”

  Faron stepped out the front door with a frown. Des shouted to him, “No one comes in or goes out until I or one of the Pack says so.” To Connie he said, “Explain to him.”

  “You bet.” She accepted the clothes he stripped off. As he changed to his wolf, she whispered, “Be careful.”

  Maybe he heard her, maybe he didn’t. The wolves, furry and fierce, ran out the gate and down the icy road, leaving confused and frightened women behind them. She wanted to stare after them, but she turned away and raised her voice.

  “Let’s go inside, ladies, it’s cold out here.”

  Faron held the door open for them to go into the house. Sherry was in the front, hobbling slowly with the aid of her cane, followed by stoic-faced Renee and teary-eyed Marissa. Marissa paused briefly to hug her son, but he shooed her along and gestured Connie in and closed the door.

  “What is going on?” he demanded.

  “Let’s go into the big room,” Connie said. “It’s warmer there.”

  The women went that direction. Once in the big room, Connie scanned the occupants. Good. Katie was here. Connie put Des’ clothes on a chair and took off her layers. “The den is under attack by Dick Dickinson,” she told Faron crisply. “There are twenty-five of Dickinson’s men, and they are armed. Des and the other men went back to the den to help with defense.”

  Faron nodded slowly. “I see.” By the calculating look in his eyes, Connie thought he was imagining the scenario at the den. “The chance of Dickinson and his men coming here are low,” he said, “but I’ll have a word with the guards anyway. It’s possible the attack on the den is a distraction to leave us vulnerable here without Stag or the other wolves. You keep the ladies inside except to use the outhouse. No visiting the library or anywhere else, until this is settled. I don’t want any lingering in the yard either.”

  Connie nodded. “Des said he’d send us word as soon as possible.”

  “Good.”

  He left the room, striding toward the front door. Connie looked around at the women. Sherry was shivering in front of one of the stoves. Renee had a line between her brows, looking at Connie with a hard stare, as if waiting for something from her. Katie was looking confused, as were several other women gathered by the stoves in the big room. Connie took a deep breath to fill her diaphragm to be able to project her voice.

  “As I’m sure all of you know by now, Des Wolfe and I were married yesterday. He will be living here and taking over from Faron Paulson as head of our security. Also, Renee married Hawk, and Marissa married Red Wing. They, and several others from Taye Wolf’s Pack, will be living here as guards.” She decided to not mention the fact that Des and the other wolves would consider all the women part of their “pack”.

  “Where are they?” Sammie asked. “What’s going on?”

  “As we approached the House, a man came to notify Des that Taye’s place is under attack. The men had to go back to help with the defense. They will be back as soon as they can. Meanwhile, we’re on lockdown here. We will stay inside except to use the facilities and pump water. No playing outside, no trips to town.”

  As she expected, Connie heard some grumbles and complaints. Katie’s light voice rose above the grumbles. “We have plenty to do to keep us busy indoors. Where should we put the newlyweds and the new men?”

  JaNae gave her hips a roll and licked her lips. “There’s a free bed in my room.”

  Amid the laughter, Katie said with a straight face, “Might be hard to get any sleep with newlyweds in the same room.”

  “I was talking about the new guys.” JaNae bounced her eyebrows. “After all, we can’t stuff them all into Faron’s little cubicle.”

  Connie saw with relief how Katie stepped in and began herding the women upstairs to make room assignments. The women should be kept occupied with moving their scant belongings and cleaning rooms for the newcomers. Kathy stepped out of the kitchen to give her a motherly hug.

  “Are you okay, Connie?”

  “Sure.”

  Kathy looked her over thoroughly. “This attack. How dangerous is it?”

  Connie shrugged. “I don’t know. Twenty-five men with guns against a bunch of men who turn into wolves.” A hint of bleakness touched her voice, leaking through the shield she’d erected. “Might not be what the man said. He might have exaggerated or been misinformed.”

  “Or not,” Kathy said quietly.

  Connie curled her fingers into her palms to hide their trembling. “Or
not,” she agreed calmly. “We won’t know until we get word. I guess for right now, I should go up to my room and arrange clothes so Des will have room in the dresser for his things.”

  She picked up the pile of clothes Des had handed her and went up the stairs to the room he might not live to share with her.

  “Connie,” Kathy called.

  She leaned on her cane and turned her head back to look at Kathy.

  “It’s going to be all right.”

  Connie nodded. “Of course it will.”

  She kept that attitude while she went through her room, refolding her few articles of clothing and rearranging them to make room for Des’ sweatpants. She hung his jacket in the closet, and put the still wet moccasins neatly below it on the floor. She knew he had more clothes than this; she’d seen them in his room last night at the den. He would probably bring them with him when he came tonight.

  Something hot and agonizingly sharp stabbed her stomach. She sat on the bed and folded herself over her knees to contain the pain. On the morning of his last flight Paul had promised breezily to call her before bed. Instead, she’d gotten a phone call from his commanding officer. She’d never heard Paul’s voice again.

  “Oh, God, oh, God.” She rocked back and forth, tears squeezing past clenched eyelids to soak into the knees of her jeans. “Don’t die, Des. Please, don’t die. I need you.”

  A soft knock on the frame of her open door jerked her head up. Her face was stony calm, but she knew her tears were obvious. Kathy stood there, her expression hesitant.

  “Sorry to bother you. Katie wants to know how many men we are expecting to live here.”

  Connie forced her numb mind to calculate. “Seven, I think, not counting Des, Hawk, and Red Wing. More later.”

  “Okay, thanks.” Concern showed his Kathy’s wrinkled brow. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine,” Connie started to say, but her voice wavered. “No,” she found herself saying instead. She drew a deep breath that trembled on the exhale. “I don’t know.”

  Kathy nodded at someone in the living room. Katie stepped around the door with an apologetic smile. She stood, rolling the hem of her sweater between long pale fingers and shifting her weight from foot to foot.

  “Can I come in? If you need someone to talk to, I have big ears and a zipped mouth.” She mimed pulling a zipper closed over her lips.

  Connie waved a hand to invite her in. Both women came in and sat on either side of her on the bed.

  “You say you don’t know if you’re okay? Then tell us what you do know,” Kathy said.

  Connie studied her twisting fingers. “I know that the den was attacked by Dick Dickinson’s men, and they have guns. I know that Des went back to help his cousins and friends. I know that if there are guns, there is a chance he could be hurt or killed.” Her voice wavered again. She forced it flat. “I don’t know what will happen to us without him.”

  “Us?” Katie arched a brow. “Don’t you mean ‘you’?”

  How would she bear it if Des were killed? She’d already lost one man she loved. The spear of icy fire jabbed her stomach again. “Both. You remember the other night when Faron wanted to talk to me alone?”

  “Yeah,” said Katie. “You were upset, I could tell.”

  Kathy nodded.

  Connie told them everything Faron had said. “Des offered to take care of us and see to it we weren’t forced into marriage, as long as I married him.”

  Katie’s eyes popped wide and then her brows dove down in a fierce scowl. “He blackmailed you?”

  A small laugh escaped. “He didn’t have to. It was a good deal.” She trailed off, biting her lip. “And I already had feelings for him. I liked him. I like him even more now.”

  “Do you love him?”

  Kathy’s quiet question made Connie think. “This morning I would have said no. I liked him, I admired him, I respected him, but not loved him. Now, I don’t know. The thought of losing him hurts so much.” That was exactly what Sherry said this morning. Now Connie knew what she meant. “I’m worried.”

  “Maybe it’s just that you’re worried about us, about what will happen to us without Des to protect us?” Katie suggested.

  “Maybe.” But Connie knew that wasn’t it. She sniffed militantly. “I better get moving. Worrying isn’t helping anything.”

  “That’s right,” Kathy said comfortingly. “Feeling better?”

  Connie nodded. If it wasn’t spoken out loud, it wasn’t a lie, right? “Thank you.”

  Kathy gave her a motherly hug. “Come on downstairs. You need to keep yourself busy now.”

  Katie watched the older woman leave before touching Connie’s shoulder lightly. “It’ll be okay. Des and the others from Taye’s place are good fighters, so there’s nothing to worry about. Des and the others will be here soon with good news. We need to have places for them to sleep when they get here. I could use your help with the room assignments. Some of the girls are being bratty.”

  Connie stood up. “You’re good at this. You weren’t a counselor back home, were you?”

  “Hell, no,” Katie said with a snorting giggle. “I was a team lead, adjudicating claims at an insurance company. I was in charge of mostly women. You have to develop a knack for handling them. Come on, back me up on the room assignments.”

  Connie went, forcing her fear for Des to the back of her mind. She went through the motions of participating in the discussions about housing, but let Katie make the decisions. She ate supper, but tasted little. It was a no-brainer to approve Renee’s request to be excused from daily chores so she could work in the kitchen. Good thing it was a no-brainer, Connie reflected with dark humor, because she had no brain to spare for anything but thinking about what was happening at the den.

  After supper, she sat in the big room in front of a stove while the women chatted or worked on crafts. When Sammie and others pelted her with questions about her wedding, she dutifully answered, but was glad to let Marissa do most of the talking. She glanced repeatedly at the large clock on the wall, wondering how long before Des came. As soon as women began trickling upstairs to get ready for bed, she escaped with Renee into the kitchen. Marissa joined them in a minute, red-eyed.

  They sat at the worktable lit by a single oil lamp, staring morosely into their tea mugs. “How long has it been?” Marissa asked.

  Connie counted hours in her mind. “Around six hours.”

  “It would take Hawk less than twenty minutes to get there if he let his wolf out,” Renee said. “So they’ve been there for over five hours. How long does a fight last?”

  Marissa twisted her fingers hard around her tea mug’s handle. “The gunfight at the OK Corral lasted only thirty seconds.”

  Connie nodded. “But the Battle of the Alamo took two weeks,” she countered.

  “Two weeks?” Marissa wailed. “I can’t wait that long!”

  Connie knew she couldn’t wait that long either. “If we haven’t heard something by breakfast, we’ll ask Faron Paulson to find out for us.”

  Renee stood up. “Breakfast. It’s only nine hours away. I should get the oatmeal started.”

  “I can help,” Marissa offered. “What do you need me to do?”

  Connie was glad to see the focused expression on Renee’s face. It meant she was thinking about cooking, not the fighting at the den. “Nothing.” She waved her hand at Marissa. “Thanks. All I have to do is add the oats and water to the kettle and let it soak overnight.”

  Marissa sat back down. “A few months ago, the oatmeal I ate came out of a packet that I poured into a bowl and added boiling water to. Everything here is so much more work. Back home I would goof off on the Internet while I did a load of laundry. Now, it takes hours to wash clothes—not that I have very many!—and it’s hard work.” Her voice sank to a trembling whisper. “But I don’t care about that, if only I have Red Wing and Faron.”

  After a moment of silence, Renee murmured, “I know what you mean.”

  So did Conni
e. “I guess I’ll head up to bed. Coming?”

  Renee put the lid on the oatmeal kettle and hooked the ladle on the lip of the lid. “Yep.”

  Using the light of the lamp to show them the stairs, the three of them went up to second floor. Connie held the lamp up so they could see to open the doors of their apartments and light the candles that waited inside. Then she went to her own frigid apartment, changed into her sleep clothes and curled herself tightly between the icy sheets she’d thought she’d be sharing with Des tonight. She wasn’t much for prayer, but she prayed now, begging God to keep Des safe.

  Chapter Nine

  Ice gleamed smooth and slick on the moonlit road and stung the pads of his paws, but Des, trailed by Hawk on his right, and Red Wing his left, didn’t stop running. Dawn was only a few hours away, and they could have stayed at the den, but they all wanted their mates. Heartsick, weary, and wounded, Des needed Connie like a starving man needed food. He needed to burrow his face into the warmth of her neck and release his grief into her keeping. He needed the touch of her hands on his body, her lips on his brow. Not for sex, but to fill the hole grief had torn in his heart.

  They stopped in front of the gate at the Plane Women’s House and changed back to their man shapes. It would have been quicker to leap over the fence, but the guards from Kearney might have been alarmed and shot them. So they waited, naked in the wind, for the guard to open the gate for them.

  Once inside, the three of them nodded at each other, eyes dark with the weary pain of grief, and parted to seek the solace their mates could give them. Hawk and Red Wing didn’t know which room their mates were in, so they used their noses to search out their scents. Des remembered very well which door led to Connie’s apartment. He turned the knob and ghosted through the empty communal area to the door that opened to her private room.