by T. S. Ryder
"I don't get out of the house much," she said honestly.
Andre grunted and got out of the truck. If she knew how to hotwire vehicles, she'd have been tempted to stay where she was. But if he knew that she knew he was the Bear, or if he wanted to kill her, wouldn't he have done so already? Wouldn't she already be lying dead in the ditch?
He wasn't going to hurt her. She knew that deep inside of herself, but there was a niggling voice at the back of her head that told her to be afraid.
There was bad blood between Bears and Wolves. Mary didn't know when or how it started, but she had heard stories of how Bears were monsters from the time she was a small child. Her mother's grandfather had been murdered by one on the journey from Russia to the Americas. Both her father's parents were killed by Bears. And Andre had just attacked her for no apparent reason, other than she was a Wolf himself.
Well, she couldn't stay in the truck. And somehow she knew she would be perfectly safe as she followed him through the darkness.
The cabin was small, cozy even. It was lit by an open fire, nestled in a brick mantle on the wall opposite the door. A small alcove was nearby, holding a pile of dry wood. Andre bent over it, adding some logs and stirring the coals with a poker. Two doors led off the main room, one to a bathroom, the other to a bedroom.
Other than that, the cabin was total chaos. Clothes were tossed everywhere, over the single table and three chairs, on the floor. Mary's hand flew to her nose as she saw piles of molding food. A pile of dirty dishes sat in the sink.
"I wasn't expecting company," Andre grunted, eyeing her.
"It's, um—"
Mary's jaw dropped when he shrugged off his thick winter jacket. He wore no shirt (probably because they were all dirty on the floor). Smooth, taut skin stretched over large muscles. His arms were even bigger than hers! A six-pack of hard abs pressed against his abdomen and the 'V' of his waist disappeared into tattered jeans, which were slung low on his hips. Mary found herself wondering how low the 'V' actually went. Her face grew hot, and she turned away.
Andre grabbed a stained shirt off the floor and slipped it on over his head. He looped his thumbs in his belt and cocked his head to one side as he studied her.
Mary cleared her throat. "Do you think the snow will clear up enough to get to the city tomorrow in time for my flight?"
"Avalanche. It'll take some time to clean that up."
Oh. Right. Maybe she could make it if she tried to get there on foot… but she had no idea where she was. Besides, her legs and arms already hurt from the exertion earlier. She could, at least, spend the night. No harm would come of that, would it?
If I had more time to embrace my Wolf, I'd be a lot stronger.
Resentment flared in her, making her temporarily forget her situation. How dare her father and mother put so much responsibility on her that she worked from dawn until dusk? She was always the first one awake in the morning, starting the fire and making breakfast for the boys when they got up for chores. If she wasn't cooking, she was cleaning, being interrupted every few minutes by the younger children having troubles with their schoolwork or fighting with each other.
She missed helping to feed and milk the animals like she did when she was small. At least, then she was able to get out of the house other than to go to town and buy groceries! Even during the Full Moon Run every month, she had to stay home with the babies, helping ease their pains from their first involuntary transformations.
Andre kicked around some clothing on the floor and picked up a green T-shirt and sweatpants. "Here, these should be clean."
Mary's nose wrinkled as she accepted the clothing. Andre was still staring at her with those beautiful black eyes, and she met his gaze. "Thank you. But isn't there any way that I can get to the city? I really need to get to my grandmother."
"No way in this snow tonight." He gestured at a window. It was too dark outside to see what was happening out there, but clusters of snow were being blown against the panes with distinctive prickling noises, like saran wrap slowly falling apart. "It'll be blizzard conditions in no time. You should have looked at the weather before you bought your flight."
"I suppose." Mary hugged the clothes to her chest as she moved to the window, staring at the whiteness outside in despair. If she hadn't gone with Andre, she'd still be out in that and about to freeze.
Andre cleared his throat, moving past her to the door that led to the bedroom. He gestured in awkwardly. "There are plenty of blankets on the bed, nice and warm."
The bedroom was slightly neater than the main room. There were still clothes all over the floor, but no dirty dishes or rotten food, and the blankets on the bed were pulled tight and wrinkle-free. It looked like it hadn't been slept in for days. Mary laid the T-shirt and sweats over the footboard, an elaborately carved piece of wood. Cherry, she thought. Maybe apple.
"Where will you sleep?" she asked, glancing at him. It was cooler in the bedroom than the main room. Would she be warm enough? Maybe if she had a warm body beside her that she could snuggle close to… Her face flamed.
Stop it! What was wrong with her?
"I usually sleep on the floor near the fire anyway," he said. "Sleep well. We'll figure out what to do with you in the morning."
After he had closed the door, Mary searched the walls for a light switch. She couldn't find one. Her wet clothes were seeping the heat from her body, and she changed into the borrowed clothing. They were tight on her rump and breasts, and the shirt smelled slightly of sweat and animals, but the outfit was dry and warm, and that was what counted.
Mary slid into the bed. Andre was right. There were enough blankets to keep her warm. As she sank into the soft mattress, it was all too easy to forget about her troubles, her family, and the beautiful Bear that was sleeping in the next room.
Chapter Three
The werewolf looked like she hadn't slept at all. Andre rolled his shoulders as she came into the main room, having had an uncomfortable night as well. With a Wolf in his house, he didn't dare sleep. She may have looked harmless, but Wolves were deadly monsters with no honor. If the Locke family didn't prove that, nothing would.
But the dark circles under Mary's eyes, and the uneasy way she moved past him, rigid as though trying to stop herself from shivering, made him think she just may be the exception to the rule. She was frightened, but not hostile. His clothes stretched over her body, emphasizing her shape, may have helped, and he admired her backside as she went to the cupboards.
"Don't you have any clean dishes?" she turned, cheeks turning pink when she looked directly at him.
"I don't have much need of them." Andre suddenly felt very self-conscious about the state of his home. He hadn't thought much about it the previous night, but now he wished he had tidied up a little during the night. Grunting, he shoved his hands into his pockets, and then removed them in case she tried to attack. "I know you're a werewolf."
The color drained from her face. Her eyes widened, chest heaving shallow breaths, and pressed herself back against the counter. "What are you going to do?"
Andre tilted his head. He didn't like the way she trembled with fear and was overcome by the desire to comfort her. A foolish, dangerous notion, he knew. But if he was right and she was running from her community, then perhaps they could be helpful to one another. "Your father is Paul Locke. He would kill me in a heartbeat if he knew I was here."
Mary opened her mouth as if to protest, but dropped her gaze. "His parents were killed by Bears."
And that justifies painting us all with one stroke? He eyed her, shaking off the guilt that he did the same–but he wouldn't kill pups! "Whatever his reasons, I cannot allow your werewolf pack to know I am here."
"Why do you live so close to us, then?"
The answer was on his lips, but then Mary looked back up at him. There was such innocence in her gaze, and even with her fear, there was a measure of trust in her. She believed that he wasn't going to hurt her, even if she wasn't sure why. He knew tha
t just from looking at her. He swallowed hard. He couldn’t tell her. "I've lived here for many years. I'll not be chased away by a werewolf. But I can't let you go. Not yet, at least."
"I won't tell anybody," she started, and he shook his head, cutting her off.
"I would prefer not to tie or lock you up, Mary. But I will do what I need to in order to ensure my safety. Understood?"
There was nothing else to say. Andre grabbed the car keys Mary had left on the table the previous night and stalked out the door, leaving her alone inside. If she was going to remain with him, he would bring her car to the cabin. Hopefully, the Locke family hadn't found it yet.
***
Soon after Andre left the cabin, Mary heard a tractor engine roar to life. The snow had stopped sometime during the night, leaving everything blanketed. Andre, on a John Deere, was clearing out a path back up the gravel road. She watched him for a bit, but when she was certain that he wasn't going to come back in, she grabbed her blanket bundle and looked through it. Her money was still there, which was a relief. She couldn't have gotten her car out of the snowbank even if Andre had left her keys, so she didn't waste time thinking about it.
He had taken the keys to his truck as well, so in the meantime, all she could do was make herself some food and wait for a chance to get away. Her dress was still wet, so she spread it on the floor in front of the fire to dry.
The still and quiet of the cabin was a little unnerving. Mary was so used to constant noise and work that she really didn't know what to do with herself while she waited for the opportunity to make her move. Part of her wanted to stay. It was a cozy cabin, and in the daylight, Mary saw it had a lot of potential if only it was a little tidier.
She would have been tempted to blame the state of things on Andre being a man, but she knew better. None of her brothers were this messy! Perhaps it was because they knew she controlled what food they put into their bodies, and didn't want to face her wrath over laundry. Maybe they would get this messy without her there. No, it's because Andre is a Bear.
But that didn't seem right either.
Mindful of the tractor's rumbling, Mary returned to the bedroom. She hadn't seen them the previous night, but one whole wall was dedicated to books. They were in every size she could imagine, and she chose one at random. She might as well be doing something while she waited. Books were a rare treat, and she soon found herself immersed.
Her rumbling stomach was what broke her from the written spell hours later. The tractor's noise had stopped, and when Mary looked out the window again, she found Andre was nowhere in sight. She stepped outside and called his name, but there was no answer.
Not knowing how much time she had, she quickly prepared to leave, chewing on some dry bread as she stuffed some crackers and her dress into her blanket bundle. Before she took off her borrowed clothing, she checked the windows again to make sure Andre wasn't close by.
The air felt light and fresh, and her Wolf’s nostrils flared as they sucked it in greedily. The scent of Bear was heavy, but she found she didn't mind. It was almost a pleasant scent. Pine was sharp and crisp, and as she rotated her ears, she picked up the soft bleats of sheep. Her head swiveled. Behind the cabin was a little barn, probably where the animals were housed. She'd never thought of a Bear as a farmer before. For some reason, she thought Andre must hunt all through the winter.
I wonder if he hibernates.
She shook her head, dispelling the thought. It didn't matter. She had to get out of here before her family found out where she was and made her go home. How would her father punish her for her disobedience? She didn't want to find out.
Still, she was strangely reluctant to leave the cozy cabin and the Bear who had rescued her from the blizzard. She would have liked to have looked into his eyes one last time.
The pine trees were heavy with snow, branches that normally pointed upright almost flat from the weight on them. It would be a perfect day for playing goose hunt with her younger siblings–Mary bit back a pang of regret. She had to look after herself now! They probably won't even miss me.
She rounded a corner, and there was Andre. He stood in the middle of the road, bare-chested, looking godlike with the snowy background. Mary stopped in her tracks.
"I told you I can't let you leave."
It was all he needed to say. Mary's ears flattened against her head, and she turned.
A sudden thought occurred to her – she was naked! Even with her thick coat of fur, she was naked, and he was looking right at her! She tucked her tail between her legs, pressing it flat against her belly, and glanced back. Andre looked like he was laughing, and she scampered back along the road, embarrassment burning in her cheeks.
***
Andre didn't follow to make sure she returned to the cabin. Or at least, she didn't think he did. She waited a while in the building, keeping the fire going, but after pacing for several hours, she couldn't do anything anymore and got to work.
By the time dusk had fallen, she had washed all the dishes and had started on the laundry. Andre didn't have a machine, but he did have a large bathing tub in the bathroom, and plenty of bars of soap. Mary started with the shirts, scrubbing one at a time before wringing them out and spreading them on the chairs and table to dry. After that, she washed all the towels, realizing that she was going to want to bathe herself before too long, and needed something clean to dry off with.
It was dusk before Andre returned to the cabin. Mary savored his look of surprise as he surveyed her work. While the clothes she had been washing were still damp and spread everywhere, there was a neatness now that had been lacking before.
He looked under the table and frowned. "Where are all my pants?"
"In the bathroom by the sink. It's more efficient to keep the clean clothes separated from the dirty ones." Mary hid a smirk as she added another log to the fire and stepped to the stove to stir the bubbling pot on it. "Soup's ready. Are you hungry?"
Andre stared at her as if soup was a totally foreign concept. Mary cleared an area on the table and dished out two bowls of soup.
"Well, I am glad you're keeping yourself busy," he said stiffly. "Tomorrow I'll show you where the woodshed is—"
"No need. I found it earlier." Mary gestured at the neat stack of logs she had put in the little alcove next to the fireplace. "I also saw that you have four sheep and a goat. Your ewe looks like she's about ready to give birth."
Andre nodded, cautiously sipping a spoonful of soup.
Mary watched him a moment, then took a deep breath. "Andre, I know that you're afraid that I will tell my family about you, but I won't. The truth is, I wasn't going to the city to visit a grandmother. I was running away."
He set his spoon down. "I thought you might be. You don't like your husband, then?"
Heat flared in her cheeks. "I'm not married."
Andre's eyes widened as if he couldn't believe it. "No? Why not?"
"I…" Mary's chin dropped, and she gazed at the carrot bits in the soup. "Nobody wants me. I'm not pretty."
"I wouldn't say that."
"You mean I could be pretty." She'd heard it often enough. You would be so pretty if you just dropped a few pounds. Mostly from her mother. But whenever she tried, whether eating less or waking up extra early so she could go for a walk before her chores began, she just ended up exhausted all the time, and hating her body even more. She had resigned herself to being 'almost' pretty long ago, preferring to feeling healthy enough to do her chores.
"No, I mean you are pretty. You're beautiful."
Mary's eyes widened. She didn't know how to respond, so she bent over her soup, cheeks growing hot.
"The roads are too dangerous for the time being," Andre said suddenly. "We're not on a major highway, so the state does little more than scrape the snow off the asphalt. But once the snow clears and winter is over, I'll take you to the city so you can fly away."
Mary's eyes widened. "Really?"
He nodded. "Really. In the meantime,
I think I might enjoy having a werewolf around if you cook like this for every meal."
Her heart glowed at the compliment. "Oh, I can," she promised. "If there's one thing I am good at, it's cooking."
"Good," Andre smiled at her. "Good."
She felt herself beam in return. Maybe she would like living here after all.
Chapter Four
Two weeks after Andre first brought her to his home, their meat supply began to run low. Andre told Mary he was going hunting, and she assured him that she could take care of everything just fine for a day. He disappeared into the forest with his Bear and didn't look back once, trusting her to stay.
Secretly, Mary was glad that he would be out for longer than normal–she needed to string a clothesline across the main room so that she could finally wash up the blankets and pillows. She was still sleeping in the bed though she had given up several of the blankets to try to make him a little more comfortable on the floor beside the fire. Once she almost suggested they share, but was too uncertain of herself.
"First things first," she told herself as she brought in lots of extra wood to keep the cabin nice and hot. "Blankets and sheets, then scrub the floors and wash down the cupboards."
Though she had smelled no rodents when she searched the cabin with her Wolf, when making breakfast that morning, she found evidence that mice had been in the cupboards at one time. While she didn't mind mice, she didn't enjoy the thought of their filth getting into her food, and was determined to sanitize everything.
It took several hours to wash the bedding and clean the floors and cupboards. By the time she was done, Mary's hands were dry and chapped, but she felt a surge of pride surveying what she had accomplished. Back home whenever she finished a lot of work she just felt tired and cranky, but here, though she was physically exhausted, there was excitement bubbling in her that made her want to continue working and have something to be proud of.
Maybe this is how it feels to get a job done in your own home, she mused. My home.