Wolver's Gold (The Wolvers)

by Rhoades, Jacqueline

  “And you, sir, are trying to change the subject. You’re in luck,” she told him as they arrived at the hotel. “I thank you for your company and I’ll bid you goodnight.”

  “Not so fast, Red. What kind of gentleman would I be if I let you wash all those dishes alone?” he asked as he held the door for her and followed her in.

  “Laundry and now dishes, Mr. McCall?

  “I’m a man of many talents, Miss Kincaid.”

  Rachel thought he spoke the truth. She was beginning to wonder, however, just what those talents were.

  Chapter 13

  “Papa,” Rachel called when McCall closed the door behind them.

  They’d argued about leaving the hotel unattended and Rachel thought she’d won when her father agreed to watch over things for the few hours she’d be gone. Evidently, the lure of the card table was just too strong for Papa to resist. He was right, in a sense. It shouldn’t matter. There was no one to attend to but their regular lodgers.

  Overnight guests were scarce this time of year. Most wolvers preferred to run with their home packs at the Hunter’s Moon. During all the other full moons of the year, females could only go over the moon with the power of the Alpha. The Hunter’s Moon was different. Every adult wolver, male or female, could run on the Hunter’s Moon without the aid of an Alpha.

  Some packs considered it the most important day of the year and held huge festival events to celebrate the three days of the Hunter’s Moon. For Gold Gulch, those days had become ordinary work days. Some males shifted, but the females were too overworked during the day to go over the moon all night, too.

  So, it shouldn’t matter that the desk was unattended, but it did. How was Rachel to have any life outside the hotel if she couldn’t count on her father’s help? She called him again.

  “Maybe he went to bed,” McCall suggested after checking the Gentlemen’s Lounge.

  It was barely nine and Papa never went to bed until after midnight. Rachel would know since he had to go through her room to get to his and usually stumbled in the dark. He was always up and dressed in time for breakfast, though he regularly took a nap right after.

  “Do you want me to lock up?” he continued.

  “Only the office, if you would, please,” she answered on a sigh. “The day’s earnings are in there until the bank opens in the morning. We’ve never had a problem, but…”

  “No sense tempting fate,” he finished, “Got it.”

  She made her way through the public dining room to the kitchen where another surprise awaited.

  Eustace was unloading one of the wooden crates of dishes when she entered the kitchen, but what caught her attention was the large bouquet of flowers sitting in a crockery pitcher they used for refilling water glasses.

  “They’re beautiful!” Rachel exclaimed.

  “They might be, excepting who brought ‘em,” Eustace muttered on his way out the back door for another load.

  “You’re father asked me to watch the desk. He said you’d be home shortly. That was two hours ago.” Jack Coogan came from the store room with a bowl of ice. “He said to make myself at home.” He nodded at the bottle of whiskey. “I knew you’d like the flowers. Can I pour you one?” he asked, lifting a glass.

  “No,” she said, and belatedly, “Thank you.”

  “She doesn’t drink,” McCall said from the door.

  Coogan looked surprised. “What are you doing here?”

  “More to the point, what the hell are you doing here? I distinctly heard the lady say get out and don’t come back.” McCall strode to the table, picked up the bottle and capped it. “Like the song says, ‘Hit the road, Jack.’”

  Jack Coogan straightened his shoulders and shot his cuffs. “I have been invited by the owner of the establishment with his permission to call upon his daughter.”

  “Here’s the problem with that. You forgot to ask the permission of the daughter.”

  “And the daughter, I mean, I refused,” Rachel chimed in. It was very nice of the sheriff to defend her, but she didn’t need him to speak on her behalf.

  “You gonna stand there yammering or are you gonna get these dishes washed.” Eustace stood in the doorway with another crate of dishes. “I got better things to do on my night off than stand around holding these crates.”

  “You have nothing better to do than what you’re told,” Coogan snapped.

  “I could say the same for you. Get out, Coogan.” McCall used his thumb to point the way.

  “You’ve got no stake in this game, McCall. What’s between me and Rachel has nothing to do with you.”

  Instead of taking exception to Jack Coogan’s comment, McCall turned his attention to Rachel. He sucked in his cheeks in such a way that she knew he was holding his anger back. He released them only to pucker his lips and shimmy his shoulders. “Language, Mr. McCall. Mind your manners, Mr. McCall,” he mimicked her admonitions, “Yet evidently, I’m the only fucking guy in town who calls you Miss Kincaid.” He turned on Coogan and stalked toward him. “No stake in this game? I’ve played for higher stakes than a little shit social climber like you could ever imagine. And I. Don’t. Lose.”

  Coogan backed around the table. “You lost that Alpha’s daughter,” he sneered.

  “Don’t be so sure about that,” McCall sneered back.

  Coogan must have seen the same thing in McCall’s eyes that Rachel did. They’d taken on the bright, steely gaze that said his wolf was close to the surface. He stepped back from the table and watched McCall carefully, but he didn’t back down.

  The shepherd, who’d stayed quietly by her side, whined, and Eustace scooted out the door.

  “Got more crates to unload,” he called over his shoulder.

  Rachel stepped forward and held out her hands in a placating gesture. There would be no altercations in her kitchen.

  “Mr. Coogan, I’ll see you to the door. I cannot forbid your association with my father, but should you call on me again, you will find me not at home.” As she passed McCall on her way through the door to the dining room, she gave him a look that distinctly said, “Stay here.” Aloud to the dog, she said, “You, too.”

  The dog looked at McCall, who nodded. The dog sat with a grumble, clearly stating its objections.

  They’d entered the front hall, with two closed doors between them and the kitchen, before Coogan spoke.

  “I know I’ve approached this in the wrong way, Rachel, but that doesn’t make me the bad guy and you need to listen to me. Your father has debts and debts must be paid, so you have a choice; me or Barnabas Holt. I’ve always had a yen for you, even when we were in school. I’ll be a good mate. You and I can make a go of this place. I’ve got ideas, good ones. With me handling your money and you managing, I can take us to the top of the pack.

  “Barnabas Holt has plans, too. He’ll take your money and bleed you dry and then, when the time comes, he’ll make his move and put you aside. Pack comes first. That’s his excuse for everything he does. He’ll have what he wants and you’ll end up with less than Eustace.”

  Rachel heard the words, but nothing about them registered in her brain except, “Your father has debts, and debts must be paid.”

  “How much does he owe?” she managed to ask.

  The sum he named took her breath away. “That’s only what he owes me.”

  Your father has debts, and debts must be paid.

  “Thank you,” she said, staring straight ahead. She meant for his honesty, but her stunned brain could manage nothing more.

  Your father has debts, and debts must be paid.

  “I knew you’d see the sense of it,” Coogan said as he stepped forward and put his hands on her shoulders. “I say we seal the deal.” He leaned in and kissed her. It was the barest touch of lips, but it felt wet and sloppy.

  Her dazed mind took a moment too long to comprehend what was happening, but her wolf had no concept of money or trading a daughter for a gambling debt. It snarled and leapt within her at the audac
ity of this wolver who was clearly beneath her.

  Rachel was so shaken by the she-wolf’s response that she simply followed it. She shouted the echo of what she heard inside.

  “No!”

  It wasn’t solely for the kiss. It was a rejection of everything else, as well. It was no to a father who would trade his daughter to pay a debt like a horse at the livery, no to losing the one bit of control she had over her life, no to the idea of her expected compliance, and a last defiant no to the knowledge that this end was inevitable. Whether she mated or not, this hotel would never be hers.

  She shouted, “No!” again as the dining room doors crashed open and McCall burst through. One of the small glass panes cracked with the impact against the wall.

  He slammed the bolt lock open and tore open the front door and, at the frightened insistence of her wolf, Rachel shouted, “No!” again, but this time, it was against McCall’s leaving.

  “He doesn’t lose well, does he?” Coogan laughed. “Don’t worry, Sheriff, the first time’s the hardest.”

  “Then this time should be easy,” McCall growled as he turned.

  His hand lashed out, caught Coogan by the scruff of the neck, and shoved him through the open front door. Just as he had done the day of Rachel’s broom attack, McCall’s foot caught the wolver’s backside and sent him sprawling. The difference was that it was evening and there were people walking home from the Lantern Show, a few of whom turned to watch.

  "You have no idea who I am," Jack Coogan shouted from the dirt.

  “Here we go; déjà vu all over again.” McCall laughed without humor. “I say you got that right and I don't much care." He lifted his finger in warning when Coogan opened his mouth. “You say, ‘You’re done in this town.’ Snarl here if you feel the need,” he said as an aside, “And then I say, okay, but you won't live to enjoy your petty victory. Then there’s a little more blah, blah, blah, and I say – and listen closely here – you want to challenge me, you go right ahead. I’ll be happy to oblige. But if you have an ounce of sense, you and I can forget all this and get along just fine. Sound good to you?” He moved his hand in a circular motion, meaning to speed things up. “This is where you say yes.” He smiled and offered his hand to pull Coogan up from the dirt.

  “No!” Cogan shouted and appealed to the wolvers who’d gathered to watch. “Who does he think he is? He doesn’t belong here. He doesn’t know how things are done.”

  A murmur ran through the crowd, but it didn’t sound too supportive of Coogan.

  “I know things about the wolvers in this town,” Coogan threatened, “I have markers I can call in once they know what I know. How long do you think you’ll last then?”

  McCall stopped smiling and withdrew his hand. “I don’t care how many markers you hold. I only have to last longer than you. Touch Miss Kincaid again and I’ll kill you. Go home,” he called to the crowd, “There’s nothing more to see.”

  Rachel, who’d heard everything from her frozen position in the doorway, knew the darkness wouldn’t hide the color rising to her cheeks. Wolvers saw almost as well in the dark as in the day and as many eyes were turned to her as to the sheriff. She wanted to bolt the door and hide, but the look on McCall’s face when he started back inside said he’d probably kick the door in if she closed it.

  He marched through the door, grabbing her hand as he passed and pulling her after him. Clear of the door, he kicked it shut.

  “Evidently, I’m also the only fucking guy in town who hasn’t kissed you, Miss Kincaid.” He pulled her into his arms and proceeded to do just that.

  This wasn’t the soggy brush of Jack Coogan, or the mashing of Barnabas Holt. It was forceful, yet soft; fiery, yet sweet. Rachel couldn’t find it in herself to stiffen against it. Her mind was whirling again, but in a different direction.

  All thoughts of debt, dirty dishes, and the hopeless monotony of her predetermined life, disappeared in the dizzying sensation of Challenger McCall’s kiss. She melted into it. Her hands slid around his sides and up his back where she clung to him, afraid her trembling appendages might turn to jelly and she would fall to the floor.

  She needn’t have worried. McCall’s arms tightened around her and molded her to his body. Slightly opening his mouth, he touched his tongue to her lips which sent another new and delightful sensation through her. Unsure how to respond, she did what she was trained to do. She followed her partner’s lead in this unfamiliar dance. She opened her mouth and darted her tongue out to touch his.

  McCall’s little grunt of pleasure gave her courage and she did it again. He apparently considered that an invitation to enter. With a purr-like growl sounding deep in his throat, he invaded her mouth with his tongue. It probed deeply, investigating the recesses of her mouth in such a pleasurable way that she responded in kind and found as much pleasure in probing as being probed.

  Her wolf was chortling with joy, so loudly that it echoed in the small foyer, which gave her the impression of two wolves laughing at once. Rachel thought the whole pack might hear it and think her wolf had gone mad. She didn’t care. If this was madness, she’d gladly wallow in it.

  Rachel had always thought of kissing as merely a pressing of the lips together; a sign of affection, surely, as she remembered her mother’s goodnight kisses with fondness, but this? This was something else! It did to her, what the whiskey did, but better, so much better, and without, she assumed, the uncomfortable repercussions in the morning. In kissing Challenger McCall, she felt free.

  She would have gladly ignored the footfalls from the dining room, but McCall broke the kiss and held her away.

  He looked at her strangely, before whispering, “Damn.”

  “I ain’t doin’ these dishes all by myself,” Eustace complained from the door way. “I got… oops… I’ll be in the kitchen finishing up those dishes,” he called over his shoulder as he beat a hasty retreat.

  “We’d better get back to the kitchen,” McCall said, but he continued to hold her by her shoulders. His breathing sounded a little ragged and he looked upset. “Listen, Red,” he said as he tucked the unruly curl at her forehead back into place. “Don’t make too much of this. I only wanted to show you what a real kiss should be like. You shouldn’t have to accept anything less. I wanted you to know what to look for when the right wolver came along. That’s all it was.”

  His words were like a slap. What meant everything to her meant nothing to him. She swallowed and nodded and then pulled away.

  “Then I’m afraid you’re too late, Mr. McCall,” she said with all the dignity she could muster. “There are some lessons that should never be learned.”

  “Still friends?” he asked and the way he asked it made Rachel think he was afraid she’d say no.

  She wanted to, but couldn’t. Once again, she thought of the flowers in Daisy’s Bouquet. They probably kissed men all the time and it meant nothing at all. It wasn’t the sheriff’s fault she was inexperienced. She should be grateful to him for teaching her what to expect. But as with whiskey, there would be repercussions. Once she was mated to a man she despised, she would be all too aware of what she was missing.

  “Of course we’re still friends, Mr. McCall. Who else could I call on to help me with the dishes?”

  Chapter 14

  Eustace kept watching them as they washed, dried and put away the dishes and utensils. The silence felt awkward and his few attempts to fill it fell flat. Rachel felt his curiosity at the noticeable unease, but explanations would have to wait until the sheriff was gone. And there would have to be an explanation before Eustace carried the tale hither and yon, making much of nothing.

  If she and McCall were to remain friends, she needed to do something to alleviate the tension that so obviously hung between them. Though so recently found, she already missed the easy going banter that had become so much a part of their relationship.

  “Eustace, have you heard any talk about the Mate reaching out to touch anyone lately?” she asked because she could thi
nk of nothing else.

  He stopped wiping and thought about it. “Nope, unless you’re meaning Maudie and you were there for that.”

  “But you weren’t,” Rachel said, surprised and curious. “How did you hear about it?” She looked at McCall, asking with her eyes if the information had come from him.

  “Don’t look at me. I didn’t say anything,” he said, “I’m still trying to figure out why you got so worked up when she touched you.”

  “She touched you, too?” Eustace seemed eager to switch the attention to someone else.

  “On the street, when she introduced herself to Mr. McCall. And tonight after the Lantern Show, she was acting strange, almost giddy. She was happy, but I don’t think she touched anyone. She practically insisted the schoolmaster, Mr. Washington, move in here.”

  “You and she are about the same age,” McCall said, “So I gather she isn’t Jeremy’s mother.”

  “That’s right. Our Alpha was mated once before.”

  “What happened to her?” McCall asked, almost too curiously.

  “She died birthing a pup. The pup died, too,” Eustace told him.

  “We were devastated,” Rachel added. Relieved to have something to talk about, she went on. “She was a wonderful Mate. No one thought she could be replaced.”

  “Mayor Hoffman took it hard, too. Durn near fell apart,” Eustace added, “Started relying on Holt to run things. Never did take back the reins. Looking back, I don’t think he ever held ‘em in the first place. He always was one to beat the devil around the stump. I think the Mate did the running and he took the credit.”

  “Eustace,” Rachel warned.

  “Don’t you Eustace me. Used to be a man was judged on more than his legs,” he said bitterly. “The old Alpha never looked down on me. Neither did this one until Barnabas Holt became Second. I got a right to say what I think and he…” He bobbed his head at McCall, “ain’t one to spread tales. This place had been sliding downhill for a while, but the Mate kept us going. When she died, the place went to hell in a hand-basket and I ain’t apologizing for the word, neither.”