"You like him, don't you?" Kat had notice how the thickest chop always found its way to River's plate along with the largest slice of pie. They'd had pecan pie three times this week and she wondered if it was his favorite. Tilda showed her love with food.
"I do," Tilda answered without hesitation. "Life's been hard on him, too, and he don't trust a one of us as far as he could toss us. Can't say we've given him a reason to, but you watch him with those kids. He loves 'em, though he probably wouldn't own to it and I expect that's because he's been raised to see it as a weakness. I know what some of these wolvers are watching for, but I'm telling you here and now that boy's not wild. The softness has been wore out of his body, but it still abides in his heart."
"I think so, too," Kat said thoughtfully, "And I think I understand his anger. When my mother died, I was so angry with her for leaving me even though I knew it wasn't her choice. I blamed her for my father's drinking and I was angry with him for leaving, too, but I didn't know it then. All I knew was I was so, so angry. It was years before I realized where the anger came from. For River, it has to be so much worse. I was lucky I had Grams. When I think about it, I don't know how she put up with me."
"She just kept on loving you, same as you'll do for these cubs."
* * *
She told Charles about it later that night when the house was quiet and they were walking up the lane in the dark. Between his business and the children and a houseful of people, it was hard to find time to just be together and talk.
"They need you, you know. They need to see you're not the man they think you are. They need to know you, not the Alpha."
"And how am I supposed to do that? The big one snarls and clenches his fists every time I walk by. The little one pees. The girl freezes like a deer caught in the headlights and the boys duck and run for cover. They've been here long enough to know I'm not going to eat them alive."
"You could start by learning their names. You, boy!" she snapped her fingers and mimicked Charles' deep voice, "Is not how you begin a friendly conversation."
Kat was learning that her lover was not a patient man. He wanted everything done yesterday. There were dozens of workmen about the place, most hired from his brother's pack across the mountain, and Kat was amazed at how quickly the abandoned houses were being whipped into shape. The roads were still mostly mud, but new loads of gravel were delivered every day. The school had been transformed into temporary offices awaiting the construction of the new headquarters for Wolf's Head Enterprises.
He'd already sent out emissaries to other pack Alphas, seeking out members of their ranks who might be looking for a change. He wanted only those who could leave with their current Alpha's blessing and first approached those whose packs had become too large and unwieldy for their territories.
They were at the end of the lane when he spun her around and kissed her, laughing at her mimicry. "I have never said 'You, boy!' in my life. I am not Ebenezer Scrooge."
"Of course not! You're spending way too much money to be Scrooge. And where's it all coming from, might I ask? You went to great pains to tell me you were broke."
Charles slid his hands into the back pockets of her jeans and pressed her up against him. "There's broke and then there's broke with excellent credit. I've made and piddled away fortunes before. This time I won't piddle it away. Don't worry, I won't let you down."
"You couldn't let me down. I'd live in a tent with you," Kat giggled, "As long as there was another one for the children."
"Ah, back to the cubs. We need to find something to take your mind off them," he said with a laugh and moved his pelvis against hers. He kissed her again and then looked up to the sky. "Damnit. Can we get a week without rain?" Fat drops were beginning to fall. "I was hoping we'd have a chance to play. A good chase would do us both good."
Kat pushed him away and took off at a run. "Then chase me back to the house," she called over her shoulder. It was a race she couldn't win, but Charles always made losing so much fun.
He caught her twice before they reached the house, allowing her escape after a brief and playful struggle each time. Her shirt was unbuttoned and her bra undone by the time they reached the front door.
The television was on, but the doors were closed and Kat was laughing when he caught her on the stairs, flipped her over and worked her zipper down while holding her hands to the step above her head.
"Charles! They'll hear us," she sputtered, trying to wiggle her way free. She lost one of her shoes on the step below.
"Good. Then they'll know not to open the doors." He latched onto her breast and sucked hard while working her jeans down over her hips.
"Oh!" Her sneakered foot managed to get a grip on the step and she pushed upward and away which only served Charles purposes as her jeans slid down as she pushed up. He peeled them from her legs.
"No!" she squealed as he freed her naked foot and she pushed up again, kicking out her sneakered foot to free it of the jeans that were now hampering her escape.
Charles was rising, preparing to lunge over the top of her, and her sneaker caught him between the legs.
"Oomph!"
She pushed herself up another few steps, not knowing whether to laugh or be concerned. She didn't think she hit him that hard, but Charles' face said otherwise.
"Now you'll pay," he growled. He grabbed the trailing denim and pulled.
Sneaker and pant leg came off with a jerk, throwing him off balance. Kat scrambled up the steps squealing, "No, no, no. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
"You're gonna be."
She half ran, half crawled to the bedroom door, burst through and stumbled to the other side of the bed, trying not to laugh as Charles barged in, slamming the door in his wake.
"You're in for it now," he growled as he circled the bed, stripping his shirt off over his head.
Kat scooted across the top, taking half the covers with her. Charles was right behind her. Tossing the covers at him, she dodged his grasping hand. She managed to reach the foot of the bed before he untangled himself. A lamp spilled to the floor.
Kat tried to wiggle beneath the high bed, but Charles grabbed her ankle and pulled her out. His laugh was maniacal, an evil genius laugh from the worst of horror movies and Kat started to giggle. The giggle turned into an 'oomph' of her own when Charles tossed her onto the bed where he made short work of removing her sagging bra and shirt. He climbed up her body and straddled her waist.
"Now you're going to pay, little kitten, but first let's get rid of your claws." he picked up her shirt and tore it in half.
"No!" she shouted. Her wardrobe was meager. She couldn't afford to lose a shirt.
"I'll buy you another," he whispered in her ear. He used her torn shirt to tie her hands to the headboard.
"Oh, no!"
"Oh, yes!"
Breathless and panting, she squirmed against her bonds. The air was filled with his magic and as he slid down her body she thrust her hips upwards in invitation.
"Oh ho, now you want it." He began with her breasts, kissing and sucking and tugging with his teeth until she was arching up to meet his mouth. "You're enjoying this too much," he growled and moved farther down to attack her belly with teeth and tongue, moving to the sensitive spot on her side where she was most ticklish.
"Please, please," she begged, "Not there." She was screeching with laughter before he finished his assault and then he moved downward between her legs.
He slipped his arms beneath her thighs and spread her wide. Holding her hips motionless, his tongue began to work her already excited clit.
"Oh god," she moaned. The man had a magic tongue. She tried to thrust her hips upward to seek an explosive end to the torture, but he wouldn't let her move. She grabbed the shirt tied to her wrists and begged him for release. "Please. Please!"
She thought it was the banging of the headboard until Charles paused and swore. "Damn it to hell," he shouted. "I'm busy."
The banging on the bedroom door came again. Charle
s threw the sheet over Kat's nakedness, but left her tied and went to the door and threw it open. And slammed it just as quickly.
He came back to the bed and yanked on his jeans.
"Who is it?" Kat whispered, still aching but cooling fast.
"Visitors." He was back at the door. "What?"
"You were making a lot of noise."
It was Jo and she was laughing. Charles body blocked her view, but not that of the tall man behind her. Ryker gave Kat a wink.
"And?" Charles didn't sound happy.
"Well," Jo sputtered, "Since you're awake, we thought you'd want to know that our little girl can talk. She woke me up, but it was Ryker she wanted. She said, "Miz Kat's hurt. Help."
"Shit."
"That's what I said," Ryker deadpanned.
"We told her you were okay, but I think Meadow needs to see for herself." Jo was enjoying every minute of this.
"Hang on." Charles closed the door and came to the bed. "You're going to say this is sweet. I beg to differ." He tossed her the robe that hung on the bathroom door.
Kat was tying the robe as he opened the door. "See?" he said, "She's fine."
A puddle formed at Meadow's feet.
Kat pushed him aside and knelt in the doorway. "Oh, honey, it's all right. We were playing a game," she explained, ignoring Jo's snort. "I'm sorry we woke you."
Kat fetched a clean nightgown without waking Forest and clean and dry, brought Meadow back to their room.
"Meadow's going to sleep with us, tonight," she said sweetly.
"Sure, sure," Charles said with a smile that was patently false. "It's a big bed. There's plenty of room to sleep." He threw back the covers and Kat was relieved to see he was wearing boxers. "God knows we're not going to use it for anything else," he muttered.
Kat giggled as she climbed over Meadow to the center of the bed. There was no way the child would sleep next to Charles. She leaned over Charles and kissed him on the lips.
"Be a good boy," she whispered, "And I promise I'll make it up to you."
He kissed her back "You bet your sweet a… I'm sure you will, dear."
"I love you," Kat said as she turned her back on him and settled her arm over the sleepy child beside her.
It wasn't until morning that she thought to wonder why Meadow had woken Ryker and Jo and not her protector, River.
Chapter 29
The day began the way every day for the last three weeks had begun; with a feeding frenzy in the kitchen. Eggs and toast and bacon and ham were shoveled into mouths with hands and fingers and in Dakota's case, a face in the plate.
Charles had banned them from the dining room until they learned some manners and Kat whole heartedly agreed. The kitchen floor could be mopped. The dining room carpet could not. Until they developed some manners, the children were relegated to the kitchen.
Kat worked with them every day, three times a day, and either they couldn't or wouldn't learn. She had to remind herself a hundred times a day that they were raised like animals and they couldn't be expected to change overnight.
"Ranger," she said patiently. "Remember what I showed you. Hold your fork this way."
Ranger laughed and nodded. He laughed and nodded at everything. He picked up his fork and allowed her to mold his fingers around it. Holding the fork in his hand, he proceeded to stuff the food into his mouth with the other hand.
Dakota seemed to think his spoon was a catapult to be used to bombard the girls with bits of his food which afforded him the opportunity to steal larger amounts of food from their plates.
Forest, at least, ate daintily with her fingers, but she ate hardly anything at all. The others all ate as if half-starved but were only slightly underweight, however Forest was now thin to the point of emaciation and Kat suspected an eating disorder. Could wolvers suffer from anorexia? No one knew for sure, having never run across it before. Charles promised to call his brother, Mike, a doctor who served a large pack out west and hopefully they would learn how best to handle the problem.
River sat back in his chair, angry and defiant. Kat knew he could handle a fork and spoon. She'd watched him in fascination as he twirled a butter knife in his hand, weaving it in and out of his fingers so rapidly, the blade was almost a blur. He refused out of pure belligerence. The younger boys looked up to him and took their behavioral cues from him.
Meadow was the most cooperative. Though she hadn't spoken again, her eyes took in everything that was happening around her. She tried to mimic what Kat showed her and struggled through each meal with a concentration Kat found endearing. Kat praised her lavishly for her efforts and was rewarded with the occasional smile. Sadly, the child froze every time another was reprimanded, no matter how mildly, and Kat had to wonder if the little girl's cooperation was a result of her wish to please or her fear of punishment.
Punishment was another thing Kat and Charles argued over. He thought she was too lenient. She thought he was too harsh.
"They're just children, Charles. They don't understand. No one's ever taught them the first thing about civilized behavior."
"They're wolver children. They're as much beast as human and the beast has been allowed to run wild. They need to be tamed, Katarina, and mollycoddling them with kisses and hugs isn't going to do the job. You'll notice they settle down when I come in the room."
"That's because they're afraid of you! You walk in acting like the Big Bad, and scare the bejesus out of them."
"Well someone sure as hell has to or this house is going to come tumbling to the ground. They've broken four windows, shattered a patio table with the rock they dug out of the yard which, by the way, they found while digging a pit to line with sharp sticks. And who the hell gave them the matches so they could light the woodpile on fire? Dammit! We could have lost the whole barn. They need to be punished, Katarina, and if you can't do it then the Big Bad is going to do it for you."
It was the main reason why she'd said nothing to Charles or anyone else about River's nighttime excursions. The question had nagged at her after the night Meadow woke Jo and Ryker. Why hadn't she gone to River? The answer was because River wasn't there. He left sometime after the children were asleep and she had no idea how he got out or where he went, but he always returned before they awakened.
Kat chose to believe that he needed to run. He needed to feel free to escape if he wanted to and coming back each night meant he wanted to stay. Charles would only confront the boy and make matters worse. River was already over tired and edgy.
Kat took a deep breath and went on with the disaster that was breakfast.
The classroom wasn't much better. With only five children, it should be easy to give each one individual attention, but every time she sat down to work with one or two, the others would be into something they shouldn't. River refused to do anything even though it was evident he couldn't read. Forest stopped working and stared into her lap, if you weren't right beside her, encouraging her. She was the only one who could read and write, but her skills were minimal. The others had no education to speak of. A lesson in counting had turned into a disaster when Ranger and Dakota decided to pelt each other with the blocks Buddy had cut for her as a teaching aid. Meadow, who was building a tower with her own set of blocks, joined in the vicious fun.
When she'd asked for River's help, he curled his lip, shrugged and did nothing.
After two weeks, she'd finally managed to impose some kind of order and discovered one way to get them to sit and listen. They liked stories. When she pulled out a book and read to them or told them stories from memory, they sat quietly and listened to her speak. Even River, who pretended not to, listened.
Perhaps she could use stories to open the door to other forms of learning. Today, she had one for Meadow, who was afraid of everyone, but particularly of Charles.
Once upon a time," she began when the children were all seated and waiting, "There was a ferocious looking wolver who lived far away across the sea in a land called Scotland." Kat growled the wo
rd 'ferocious' and snarled a little over 'wolver' and that was enough to make little Meadow shiver. Not wanting a wet lap, Kat shifted gears.
"Ranger? Would you bring us that globe, please? I'd like you to show Meadow where Scotland is." She steered the boy's finger in the right direction. "Yes, that's it. See, sweetie? Scotland is a far away land. Here we are, way over here." Leaving Ranger to point to Scotland and placing her own finger over their home. "Nothing can hurt you from way across the ocean." After a little geography lesson and listening to the other's questions, Meadow was ready to move on. Settling her arm more firmly about the girl's waist, Kat continued.
"Now, everyone knew how mean and cruel those wolvers in the woods could be, so when her mother insisted she bring a basket of food to her ailing grandmother, Little Red Riding Hood, whose real name was Meadow, was very worried and a little afraid, but she was also very brave."
Meadow's head snapped up to question Kat with those big blue eyes.
"Oh, my! Will you look at that? The girl in the story has your name. She must be a very special girl, don't you think?" Kat kissed the real Meadow's forehead and earned another smile.
"You made that up," Dakota accused.
"Oh no," Forest defended, "I think I read somewhere that was her name."
The girl's defense of her warmed Kat and she smiled her thanks. Forest beamed.
"That's a lie." Dakota wasn't going to let it go.
"How would you know? You can't read?" Ranger piped.
Kat could see where this was going so she quickly resumed her story. "Meadow knew her grandmother needed help and she was determined to bring her that basket, no matter what. So she donned… that's a fancy word for put on and I'll be checking to see who uses the word tomorrow. Meadow donned her bright red cloak with its winter warm hood and carrying her basket over her arm, she set out for Grandmother's house."
"Is that Grandmother's house like your house or like our house? Does it have lots of rooms or just one?" Ranger asked. He liked details.
"It's a good, sturdy house," Kat told him, thinking of the hovel in which they'd been found. "Made of stone, but not so big and fancy as our house. Our house would be much too big for one Grandmother to live in." They needed to understand that this was their home. She described the three room cottage of her imagination and Ranger questioned her until he was satisfied. She then went on with Red Riding Hood's walk through the woods.
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