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Werewolf in Alaska

Page 7

by Vicki Lewis Thompson


  He’d have to be very sure she wouldn’t come in, though, because if she found him naked in her cabin that would be extremely difficult to explain. But if he could pull off the maneuver, he’d be able to leave today. Rachel might think she’d left the door open by mistake.

  Just as his plan began to seem possible, the bedroom door creaked and Rachel walked in. “I knew you’d come out once Lionel was gone, wolf.”

  He stood still and watched her.

  “I still think you understand a lot of what we say, and that conversation I had with Lionel might have spooked you. But don’t worry. I’m not going to call in the troops. This is between you and me. And you can trust Lionel not to squeal on us.”

  Thank you. He hoped she could sense his gratitude.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Wow, that was strange. She’d responded as if she’d picked up on his thoughts.

  “I’m going out to the workshop, now, but I’ll come back from time to time and check on you. I’m not leaving you alone for the day, so don’t worry about that, either.”

  Please do leave me alone.

  She smiled. “It’s like I can see the wheels turning in there. You’re too clever. I’m not giving you hours of solitude so you can figure out some way to get out of here.”

  Damn.

  “Boy, do you look disappointed! I swear you got the gist of what I just said. Well, just forget about escaping. You need more time to heal and this is the best place to do that.”

  Says you.

  “Don’t look at me like that, as if you don’t believe me. I’m a doctor, or I was almost a doctor. I can tell that you’re super smart, but I know more about this process than you do, so why not relax and let me do my thing?”

  Her logic was impeccable. But she was working with the wrong information. If he were a true wolf, she’d be absolutely doing the right thing for him.

  She couldn’t know that she was impeding the healing process. Because he’d been unable to shift fully soon after his injury, he would likely have scarring, something that didn’t happen when Weres took care of their wounds themselves.

  He’d been hurt several times in his life, and he bore no marks as a result. But he felt certain he’d end up with red welts from the bear’s claws once he became human again. In time they’d fade, but his skin would never be perfect again.

  In some ways that seemed fitting. It was as if Rachel herself had left her mark on him. He might as well accept the inevitability of that and realize that he would never completely erase her memory.

  “See you soon, wolf.” She had the audacity to wink before she turned, walked out the door, and closed it firmly behind her.

  Curses, foiled again.

  Chapter Six

  Rachel’s famous concentration took a beating the rest of the morning. Even Lionel remarked on it. She kept pausing in her work to check on the wolf, and when she returned, she spent long moments staring into space, her carving tools lying unused on her bench.

  Finally she turned to Lionel. “How are you at tracking?”

  “Okay, I guess.” He dumped a large dustpan full of shavings into a plastic garbage can. “I learned from my best friend Willie’s dad, on account of mine not being around to teach me.” He said it without a trace of resentment or self-pity. His dad had left when he was a baby, and he’d been raised by his mother and grandmother, but he’d never said a word against his absent father.

  “If I let the wolf go tonight, do you think you could track where he goes?”

  Lionel stopped sweeping to glance at her. “I thought you didn’t want to know his story?”

  “I don’t, and if I could keep him a few more days, I wouldn’t be worried. But I can’t figure out how to do that. He’ll need to go outside again tonight, and I won’t be able to trick him again.”

  “Again? You already tricked him once?”

  “Yeah, and it cost me a very large steak.” She described her maneuver, which made Lionel chuckle. “Anyway, the fishing line won’t work twice, so when I let him out to do his business, he’ll be gone.”

  “And you want me to follow him?”

  “Not so he’d know. He’s very smart. That’s why I thought if you could track him from a distance, then you’d have some idea of where he goes but he wouldn’t know you were doing it.”

  “I could try. But Willie’s dad could do a better job than me. Even Willie’s a better tracker than I am.”

  Rachel shook her head. “I don’t care. I don’t want anyone else in on this, so you’re my guy. I’ll pay you for your time.”

  “Hell, no, you won’t. I’m already aiding and abetting you instead of notifying Game and Fish. If I take money for it, that’ll look even worse.”

  “Would you rather not do it at all?”

  He grinned at her. “Are you kidding? I’m dying to do it. First of all, I’m really happy that you’re getting this wolf out of your house before something bad happens. Second of all, I want to know where he heads off to as much as you, maybe more. This job has always been interesting, but today’s been the most interesting so far.”

  “Glad I’m proving to be entertaining.”

  “Definitely. What time are you planning to let him go?”

  “As late as possible.” She glanced at the clock on the workshop wall. “I’m not sure how long he can make it without needing a trip outside.”

  “I can’t say for wolves, but a big dog can go about 10 hours, maybe a little longer if they have to. You think this wolf is housebroken, right?”

  She nodded. “He seems to be. Anyway, that still puts us at six or seven tonight. The sun’s very bright then.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “Don’t have much choice. He’ll have to do the best he can to stay hidden. At least tracking him should be easier.”

  “It should, but…” He sighed. “Seriously, I’m not a very good tracker.”

  “At least you know something about it, which is more than I can say. Can you also look for blood spots along the way? In case he starts bleeding again?”

  “And what if he does? Does it matter?”

  She thought about that. “Good point. Once he’s loose, there will be no getting him back. If I could think of some way to let him out on a temporary basis, I’d do it, but it’s not as if I can take him out on a leash like a poodle.”

  “Nope.” Lionel gazed at her. “If you’re that worried about whether he’ll survive on his own, there’s always Game and Fish. At least then you’d know that he –”

  “I’d know that he’d be miserable and I would have broken the promise I made to him last night.”

  “But for his own good.”

  “Would it be? My instincts tell me that given the choice, he’d rather die on his own terms than deal with more human interference.”

  “Then I guess it’s settled.” Lionel’s phone chimed, signaling the end of his work day with Rachel. He silenced the alarm. “I need to get over to the mill. Just tell me when you want me here.”

  “Plan on seven.” Rachel wished she had reason to employ him fulltime so he didn’t have to work at the sawmill thirty miles away. But cleaning the shop, buying groceries once in awhile, and helping her with heavy pieces of wood didn’t take forty hours a week.

  “I’ll be here.”

  “I’ll call you when I’m getting ready to let him out. If you park on the road instead of driving in, then he won’t know you’re coming.”

  Lionel nodded.

  “I really appreciate this. Are you sure I can’t pay you extra?”

  “I’m sure.” He glanced at a wooden shelving unit that held various pieces of wood waiting to become Rachel Miller originals. He pointed to a gnarled piece of cedar about two feet long. “If you’d be willing to let me have that, I’d consider us even.”

  She happened to love that particular piece and had looked forward to carving it. But she was desperate for Lionel’s tracking skills and she was also thrilled at this first indicati
on that he’d taken her suggestion about perfecting his own carving skills. “It’s yours.”

  “Really? I was sort of kidding. That’s a beautiful hunk of wood. You don’t have to give it to me. I’m sure you could make something amazing out of it.”

  Sliding off her work stool, she walked over to the shelf and picked up the cedar. “I’ll bet you could, too. I only have one condition. Let me see it when you’re finished.” Using both hands, she held it out.

  Instead of taking it, he stepped back. “Never mind. That was a dumb impulse on my part. I’m not ready for wood that beautiful.”

  “Lionel, you are ready, or you wouldn’t have asked for it. Don’t wimp out on me.”

  He eyed the wood. “I’ll probably screw it up.”

  “That’s not the best attitude for beginning a new project. Try again.”

  “You’re really putting me on the spot, Miss M.”

  “I mean to.” She continued to gaze at him. “Daring to be an artist takes guts. You’ve only been here during the glory days, but I went through a lot of self-doubt before I arrived where I am now. I still have self-doubt.”

  “You? That’s ridiculous.”

  “Probably, but it’s true. So man up, Lionel. Take this piece of wood, put your heart and soul into carving it, and then show me the results. Because that’s what artists do. They put their heart and soul out there for everyone to see.”

  Lionel swallowed. “Okay.” Moving toward her, he took the piece of wood. “Don’t expect miracles, okay?”

  “I always expect miracles.” She smiled at him. “And so should you. See you tonight.”

  When Rachel didn’t come in to check on Jake all afternoon, he wondered what was up. She’d made a pest of herself in the morning, and then had left him completely alone in the afternoon. But he hadn’t been able to trust her absence enough to try a double shift. It had turned out to be a very long afternoon.

  Toward the end of it he desperately needed to relieve himself. He wondered how she planned to handle that. She couldn’t try the fishing line again, so how could she expect to let him out and get him back in the house?

  Around six he heard her come in the cabin, but she didn’t open the bedroom door. He paced the bedroom while he waited to see what would happen next. She had to let him out. And then what?

  He was also hungry, but not as famished as he had been this morning. If she tried to bribe him with food again, he wouldn’t be as susceptible. The ding of a microwave made him curious. Was she nuking her dinner, his dinner, or both?

  The overriding concern, though, was the pressure on his bladder. She had to know he was in dire straits. Once she opened that back door, their time together would be over. Surely she knew that, too.

  He scented her approach to the bedroom, both because he was attuned to her aroma and because his nose told him she carried a bowl of raw hamburger. Sadly, he was more eager to see her than to eat the hamburger. That indicated how enmeshed he’d become.

  Halting his pacing, he faced the door. Considering the microwave ding he’d heard earlier, she must have used it to defrost some ground round from the freezer. Damn, he was turning into a regular Sherlock Holmes.

  He appreciated the thought of the raw hamburger, but he looked forward to shifting back to human form. These days he preferred his meals cooked and preferably seasoned. He longed for a few side dishes and a bottle of good red wine.

  She wouldn’t know that, of course. She viewed him as a wild animal that caught its prey on the run. Werewolves hadn’t done that for centuries. Despite his surname, Jake had never hunted anything, and the concept made him shudder.

  As a carnivore, he required daily helpings of meat. As a thinking carnivore, he understood that somebody had to provide the fine cuts of sirloin that he enjoyed. But he preferred not to dwell on what he considered an unsavory process.

  “I’ve brought your dinner.” She left the bedroom door open as she crossed the room and put the bowl in front of him.

  He had to pee, but he wasn’t about to turn down the possibility of food. She didn’t seem to be using the hamburger as a trick to get him back inside this time, and he was grateful for that. He began gulping down the ground meat.

  Halfway through, he paused. She could have buried a knock-out pill in the hamburger and he’d never know. He glanced up. Did you hide a pill in this meat?

  “It’s okay, wolf. You can eat it. No tricks.” She crouched down so they were eye-to-eye. “I’m going to let you go.”

  His heart thumped faster. Freedom!

  “You understood that, didn’t you? I have a feeling if scientists ever examined your brain, they’d discover you’re a super-intelligent wolf.”

  If any scientist examined his brain and reported the findings, they’d risk ruining their reputation. Everyone knew werewolves were mythical creatures. He pitied the poor scientist who dared to claim that they weren’t.

  “I’m letting you out because there’s no way I can keep you any longer. We both know you have to go outside and take care of some necessary business. I figured out a way to fool you this morning, but that won’t work again, will it?”

  He lowered his head and kept eating, but he trembled with excitement at the prospect of escaping at last. From the corner of his eye he evaluated the light coming through her bedroom window. Too much light, but he couldn’t be particular. If she opened that back door, then he would take off.

  “I’m still worried about you. I doubt you’d let me examine your wounds, and besides, I’d have a tough time seeing anything with all that fur in the way. They don’t seem to be bleeding anymore, though, and maybe you’ll be okay. I hope so.”

  He was touched by the genuine concern in her voice. As much as he wanted—no, needed—to leave, he would miss her. He’d been an intimate part of her life for nearly twenty-four hours, and she’d proven to be every bit as wonderful as he’d imagined.

  Too bad. He’d have to be content with his memories. He took some satisfaction in knowing that she was likely to remember this interlude for a long time. It wasn’t every day that a woman brought a wolf into her bedroom. And she didn’t know the half of it.

  He supposed that eventually she’d find a man to love and she’d tell him about the brave wolf that had defended her from a mother grizzly. Jake didn’t like thinking about her with someone else, but there could be no other outcome. He would end up with someone else, too, maybe even Giselle Landry.

  “So I want you to be really careful after you leave here,” she said. “I wish you’d stay until it’s a little darker, but I know you won’t. It’s just that you’re black, and if someone sees you…I worry that they’ll…well, maybe they’ll be awestruck the way I was when I saw you years ago and they’ll leave you alone.”

  It wasn’t me you saw. It was my father.

  “It was you, so don’t try to convince me it wasn’t.”

  His head came up and he looked into her eyes. Had she just replied to his telepathic thought?

  “I will say, though, that I haven’t been carving your nose quite right. I thought it was a little longer and sharper than that.”

  Exactly. Because you saw my dad.

  “But it had to be you. How many others could there be with those distinctive green-eyes, thick black coat, and a diamond pattern on your forehead? You’re very unusual looking. And larger than most wolves, too.”

  Right, but I’m not a—he caught himself before he finished the sentence. He was only thinking, but he had an uneasy feeling she was getting some of that transmission. He didn’t want to take a chance he’d plant an idea in her head.

  “Anyway, I’ll miss you, wolf. I wouldn’t mind having you drop by now and then, but I don’t suppose that’s wise. The more often you’re spotted near a residence, the more likely someone will decide you’re a danger to small children and lap dogs. You need to stay away from people. I promise I’ll be more careful about bears from now on, so you can relax on that score.”

  He couldn’t seem
to stop gazing at her. She was so beautiful with her soft hair framing her face and her gray eyes filled with affection for him. He could easily stay away from other humans, but he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to stay away from her.

  “Go on, now. Eat your hamburger.” Reaching out, she stroked his head. “I didn’t mean to distract you.”

  The warmth of her touch ran through him like a jolt of electricity. He quivered in reaction.

  “Your coat is incredibly soft. I always imagined it would be coarse, but it’s not.” She looked into his eyes as she combed her fingers through his fur. “We do have a connection, don’t we?”

  Yes. He leaned into her caress.

  “I think that’s very cool, but I don’t want to put you in danger.” With a sigh, she lifted her hand and stood.

  Please don’t stop stroking me.

  “Finish that hamburger. It’s time you were on your way.”

  He swallowed a whine of longing. The urge to stay and somehow blend their two very different worlds had become powerful, almost too powerful to resist. No doubt the Wallace brothers had felt this way, and they’d succumbed. He would not, by God. He would not.

  Summoning all his will power, he returned his attention to the hamburger and finished it off. When he looked up, she’d moved into the living room. He walked out of her bedroom knowing he’d never see it again.

  Good thing he needed a bathroom break. At this moment, it was the only thing propelling him out the door. Yet his belief in a clean separation of the two species—human and Were—was the only world order that made sense to him. He had to adhere to it, no matter how much he longed to hold onto his connection with Rachel.

  “Come on, wolf. Let’s get this over with.” Striding toward the back door, she opened it with a dramatic flourish. “I’ll bet you can hardly wait to be free again.”

  No. I want to stay.

  She turned back to him, her expression puzzled. “You do want to leave, right?”

  There was only one good answer to that. Lifting his head, he met her gaze. Yes.

 

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