This was her greatest fear. Challenger McCall would die in a foolish attempt to take over the Gold Gulch pack. She could find some modicum of contentment, knowing he was living the life he was meant to lead even if she would not be there to share it. She would never find peace, knowing he died without reaching that goal.
Washington slipped from the table and stood tall. Power emanated from him and in the manner of which she’d just spoken, Rachel lowered her eyes and bowed her head. She’d felt some of this power when he held McCall back from following Holt. She’d heard of it from Cassie, but only at that moment did she realize just how much power the gentlemanly schoolmaster held. Anyone who mistook him for anything but a prime alpha would be sadly mistaken.
“How many wolvers are in this pack?” he asked. “How many have suffered under those twelve men? How many will stand once they have someone to lead them? This needn’t be a war or a bloodbath, Rachel, not if we band together.”
Just as quickly, the power dissipated, bits of it floating about the room like motes of dust. “You must believe,” he told her, and Rachel almost did. He found his place again at the corner of the table.
“What does this have to do with Mr. Higgins’ essays,” she asked in hope of a change in subject. It didn’t work.
“You said it yourself. We are wolvers. We are pack. There is no male, no female. The key is in the word we. We each have our role to play, but we, Rachel Kincaid, are pack. In Gold Gulch, there is no we. There is you and them. Before you can expect the pack to stand for you, you have to be willing to stand for yourself. You are ready to do that and others are, too, just as they were ready to go over the Hunter’s Moon. They will follow where you lead.”
“How can you be so certain I’m the one to do it?”
“Because you once believed you were a knight leading an army. You believed you could vanquish dragons. I have it on good authority that this is solemn truth.” His eyes twinkled
Rachel knew who that authority was; Jeremy Hoffman, her childhood friend and John’s brother-in-law. As a girl, she’d made it her mission to do everything Jeremy did and sometimes did it better, but that was before she realized that she was the weaker sex.
She shook her head. “We were children then. I no longer fight dragons and I am no leader. I merely voiced what I felt and others felt the same. There are older and wiser women in this pack who are better equipped to take that role.”
“Those women did not step forward. They didn’t use their voice. You did, and they listened.” Washington winked at her and laughed. “We alphas like to think we hold the power of the pack in our paws. We like to think we are dominant and powerful and God and Nature have provided you females for our pleasure.”
“John, please, I don’t like the sound of this.” It was one thing to be free and open with McCall, but this wasn’t McCall and John speaking of females and pleasure in the same breath made her uncomfortable. She felt the swell of power again, but this time she looked up instead of down.
“Let me finish,” he said and she felt compelled to listen. “It’s something you should hear. We alphas are fools, Rachel. You work beside us. You bear and raise our young; you treat our wounds; and you fight beside us when we have need. Without its females, there is no pack. It’s right there before us in the Alpha and Mate. One can’t work without the other. An Alpha might function well for a few years, but without a Mate, his mantle of power will begin to fade.” Washington spread his hands, palms up. “Male and female, yin and yang.”
“Yin and yang?” Rachel thought of McCall’s copybook. She really needed one, too.
Washington laughed. “Okay, forget that one. How about ebb and flow? Do you understand what I’m saying? Just as there is a balance between Alpha and Mate, there has to be a balance between male and female. You are an integral part of the pack and your voice should be heard.”
“I understand, but I still think you’re wrong.”
She knew both Washington and McCall valued her opinion and a few other men might listen to avoid appearing uncivil, but she couldn’t see the pack as a whole, listening to one lone woman. She told him so.
“Then start with the women. Read the essays. Pick the six you like best. I’ve marked my favorites.” It was an order from teacher to student.
Smiling, Rachel held out her hand for the book. “I’ll read your essays, Mr. Washington, and I’ll pick the six I like best and ask for volunteers to read aloud. I’ll even give my opinion if asked.”
“You’ll give your opinion even if unasked. Your voice needs to be heard.” He eased off the table and handed her the book. “So, I’m Mr. Washington again, am I?”
“Consider yourself fortunate. I almost called you Mrs. Pembroke. She was a bully, too.”
“Just for that, you can read this one, as well.” He handed her the book he’d held under his arm. “Don’t look so worried. Rome wasn’t built in a day. Your Ladies’ Brigade won’t be either. You’ve got until the next full moon.” He nodded at the book. “It’s contraband, by the way. Written after nineteen-hundred, but only by a few years. You’ll feel quite rebellious reading it.”
All reading material used in Gold Gulch was approved by the Alpha’s Council and had to be written before the turn of the last century. Rachel had never thought much about it since her free time was so limited. By adding a second book, Washington was pushing those limits.
Her interest piqued, Rachel opened the cover. It was a history of the women’s suffrage movement in the United States. When she looked back up him, Washington already had his hand up to quell her arguments.
“Those women aren’t human outsiders, Rachel. They’re you. When you read it, think of Gold Gulch and don’t pass judgment until it’s read.”
“Fine. I will, but first I have to get my dishes done and make my preparations for tomorrow.” Rachel was thinking it would pass the time and keep her awake until McCall returned.
“Good. I, too, have things to do. McCall and I are going hunting.” He laughed at the look on her face.
“I thought he was making extra rounds in the town because of the storms. This is no night for hunting.” As if on cue, lightning lit the kitchen window. The boom of thunder that followed was strong enough to rattle the panes.
“It’s the perfect night,” he told her and giving her a little bow, he left her wondering what animals would be roaming about in this kind of weather.
Chapter 25
Arthur had given up his watch post in favor of his bed in the corner, but even in sleep, he listened. The thump of his tail on the floor alerted Rachel to McCall’s presence in the yard and she rose with the big dog to greet him. Checking the watch pinned to her bodice, she was stunned at the time. The lights had gone out and she’d been encased in her own little world of lamplight at the table. With her nose stuck in a book, hours had passed without notice.
She was at the door when he opened it, ready to take his wet Fish to the bath, but instead of a dripping coat, McCall was barely dressed at all. He wore only a pair of jeans and those were soaked through. His hair hung in wet strings, sending rivulets of water down his face and neck and onto his bare chest.
“Let me get you a towel.”
“Don’t bother. I’m going back out. I need rope. If you don’t have any, I’ll go wake Achilles.”
“What happened?”
“Your damned schoolteacher fell down a hole, that’s what happened. I need a rope to get him out.”
“Where? How? Is he all right?”
“He’s alive, but he can hear water running and he’s afraid it’s going to flood. The walls are crumbling. He can’t climb out. I need rope and I need it now.”
“In the shed.” He was gone before she could say anything else. She followed him.
McCall grabbed the rope from its peg on the wall and started coiling it tighter. “I can go faster on four legs than two. Drop the rope around my neck.” He stopped and stared at her. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
> Her skirt dropped to the floor and she started on the long row of buttons down her front. “Going with you. Undo my stays.” Shirt followed skirt.
“You can’t. It’s dangerous.”
“If he’s hurt, you’ll need help getting him out and getting him home. Now stop your nonsense and untie the string of my corset.” This last was muffled under the corset cover rising over her head.
“This wasn’t quite how I pictured it,” he muttered, but she felt her stays loosen as he ran his fingers up the lacing.
He’d barely pulled it over her head before she was shimmying out of her underdress and rolling down her stockings. Rachel gathered everything into a bundle and dumped it on the bed pushed up against the opposite wall.
“Eustace is going to get a shock if he comes home and finds his bed full of corset and cotton,” she said.
“I think Eustace has found another bed. Haven’t you noticed he hasn’t slept here in days? Ready?”
At her nod, McCall bowed his head, light flashed and the silver wolf formed. He nodded again and Rachel placed the coiled rope about his neck. She opened the door and then let the picture of her wolf form in her mind. Unlike her human counterpart, the she–wolf was thrilled to be chasing McCall through the storm.
They skirted around the schoolhouse and headed in a direction west of where they’d run before. Lightening flashed and the wolf flinched, but didn’t slow her pace. Thunder rolled and rain pelted her face, but these were of little consequence to the she-wolf. She was free and running.
She’d been here before. Vague memories of her surroundings flitted through her mind. The images were connected with the sting of a switch against her legs, punishment for sneaking off to play in places that were forbidden.
“Bad place. Bad place. Bad place,” pounded through the she-wolf’s mind. She put on speed to catch up with McCall. Running side by side, she nudged her shoulder into his in an attempt to turn him aside. “Bad Place. Bad place.” When he didn’t listen, she hit him again, harder.
Her reward was a snarl from the silver wolf. “Go home.”
Jeesh! It was only a warning.
She glanced behind at the wolf mix following behind that Rachel called Arthur. There was something about him that wasn’t right. She chuffed in exasperation and attempted to ask.
“Part wolf. Part dog. Part…?”
Another snarl. “Watch, listen, bad place.”
Rachelwolf snarled right back. “Told you.”
She didn’t argue further because Challengerwolf slowed to a stop and raised his snout. The heavy rain had smeared the scent of his trail, making it difficult to follow, but both the she-wolf and Rachel knew this place and seeing his indecision, took the lead. She nudged him in the direction he should go and trotted forward a few steps.
“Follow. Bad place.”
She trotted off with the dog at her tail, pleased when the silver wolf didn’t argue. It wasn’t far and the chuff behind her told her she’d chosen the right place. McCall shifted to his human form and Rachel followed suit. He immediately pushed her inside.
“How did you know about, what did you call it? The bad place.”
When she was a cub, the entrance to the mine was boarded over with a sign that read, Danger: Keep Out. The sign hadn’t stopped them from ripping the rotting boards away and exploring until their parents found out. The boards around it now looked new.
“Jeremy Hoffman discovered it. Actually his father, the Alpha, did. Jeremy was always following his father around and playing spy. When we got caught, my mother cut a switch and whipped the fire out of my legs.” She laughed a little. “Or whipped the fire into them since they burned for a week. They let us run outside of town and play, but mines were off limits. There are dozens of test holes around here. This was the worst because of the pit. We should have brought a candle.”
“There are these modern things called flashlights, you know.”
“Did you bring one?”
“No.”
“Then your idea is no better than mine.”
“Smartass.”
“Better than an asshat,” she said primly and heard McCall snort.
They walked forward cautiously as their eyes adjusted to the near blackness. Water ran in tiny rills along the floor touching their bare feet and moving away. Silt sifted down from the ceiling.
“At first I didn’t know what you were talking about, but the closer we got, the surer I became.” She took a turning to the right and walked several yards.
“Rachel,” McCall warned in a whisper, but she’d already raised her hand to signal him to stop.
“John? John, can you hear me?” she called softly, afraid the sound might disturb something in the tunnel. She was terribly afraid of bats.
“Rachel? Good God, what has the big fool gone and done now?”
“The big fool has done nothing but bring a rope. The little fool insisted on coming along.” McCall uncoiled the rope.
“At least the little fool remembered where the mine was. You would have been searching for hours. Men never ask for directions.”
There was a bark of laughter from the pit.
“How do you know?” McCall laughed. “You’ve never been outside of Gold Gulch.”
“I heard it from a tourist, several of them in fact. John, are you hurt?” Rachel stood on her toes to see if she could detect the pit, but the faint light ended where they stood.
“My leg’s scratched up and my ankle’s twisted, but not broken. If there’s enough rope, I’ll tie it around me. I’m afraid you’ll have to do more hauling than I’ll do climbing. The walls are mud and the water’s made it slick.”
Rachel held out her hand for the end of the rope. “I’ll take it. If you fall in, I’ll never be able to haul you out.”
She thought McCall would argue, but he handed the rope over and only said, “Be careful.”
Crawling on hands and knees, inching her hands out toward the edge of the pit, she heard him snickering behind her.
“I don’t find this amusing Mr. McCall,” she hissed over her shoulder.
“You would if our positions were reversed.” His laugh was little more than a whisper and then lowered even more. “Then again, maybe not. I’m not the one wearing those drawers.”
The hand without the rope went to her rear. Her drawers were gaping. “Close your eyes!”
“Why? It’s not like I haven’t…”
“Mr. McCall!”
“If you two could have this conversation later, it would be most appreciated,” Washington called from the pit. “This isn’t the most comfortable circumstance, you know.”
As soon as her outstretched fingers touched the edge, she drew back and tossed the rope over the side, keeping her weight well away. She remembered this pit. It was so dark down there, she and Jeremy thought it might be bottomless, but they were only eight or nine and it was more to scare each other than real belief. Seeing how much rope was going over the side, she began to wonder…
“Got it!”
With a sigh of release, Rachel crawled backward until her bare feet touched McCall’s.
McCall groaned. “Let’s get this show on the road, Johnny boy. You’re cutting into my time here, son.” McCall hauled on the rope and the edge of the pit began to crumble.
“Hold it. Hold it.”
“God damnit, how much do you weigh?”
Rachel stepped in front of McCall and began to pull the rope hand over hand with him, her hands working between his. John Washington came over the edge, but they kept pulling together until he was lying flat on the dirt floor. She ran to the bloody tear in his pant leg. Like McCall, he was wearing jeans. His ankle was swollen and a deep gash ran up his leg.
“You sure know how to fuck up a night,” McCall told him while he examined the leg.
“Next time, you go first,” Washington grumbled.
“I said I would, but you had to be the explorer.” He sat back on his haunches. “You’re a liar, too. This ai
n’t no scratch.”
“I didn’t want you to worry. I’ll be fine.”
“You’re not going to be able to shift with the way you’re bleeding. We’ll have to walk you back. I‘ll be your crutch, but we’ve got to get some pressure on this wound.”
Washington dug in his pocket and pulled out a large green handkerchief. It was folded like a packet and he carefully emptied the contents into his palm before handing the handkerchief over to McCall. The contents went back into his pocket.
“Treasure,” he said, at McCall’s curious look.
McCall nodded as he tied the square of cotton around the wound. “Good, but not enough.” He looked over at Rachel and pointed to her chemise. “The undershirt will work.”
“Mr. McCall!”
McCall laughed at her shock. John Washington took a more gentlemanly approach after he punched McCall in the shoulder.
“You can shift out of our sight, leaving the garment behind.”
“Oh. Oh! That makes sense,” she said to John and then glared at McCall. “You know what I’m thinking, don’t you?”
“She calls me an asshat,” McCall told his friend in a confidential, but much too loud whisper.
“Why am I not surprised?” Washington’s laugh was cut short by a grunt of pain. Not to be deterred, he called, “He’s a bad influence, Rachel, but we should be patient. It’s not his fault he’s an asshat.”
Rachel was already around the corner, peeling the dirty chemise over her head. “Hah! He deserved it,” she called as she tossed the cotton garment back as far as she could without showing herself. Then she called her wolf forward. It was easier each time she did it.
Waiting at the mine entrance with Arthur, who’d stood guard while they were inside, the she-wolf scanned the surrounding area. The heavy rain had passed, but moisture hung in the air and the wind was still strong. Night creatures still skittered here and there, though not as many as would be out on a dry night. She scented no other wolves or humans.
Wolver's Gold (The Wolvers) Page 23