The Shadows of Christmas Past

by Christine Feehan

  It was barely dawn, so there was little light coming through the small window set high in the back wall. But there was enough to make out the sight of a naked man's bare buttocks.

  "Good Lord almighty!"

  He was asleep in the wolf's cage, his legs drawn up beneath him, and he was naked. Big and broad-shouldered, with a hell of a fine ass, muscular thighs, and—naked. Really, really, made-to-be-looked-at, built-like-a-god naked.

  "Ohhh, my."

  It had been a while since she'd been this close to a naked man, and never to one this impressive. Though the sight was shocking, she came to her senses, and demanded, "What the hell are you doing in there?"

  The man didn't move. An arm covered his head, blocking his face. She took a step closer to the cage—and heard the phone ringing in the office in the front of the building.

  Answer the phone!

  She let it ring only twice before crossing the storeroom and hurrying to answer the call. She had a sleeping man where the wolf was supposed to be, which made for some serious questions that needed to be answered—but there might also be a veterinary emergency on the other end of the phone line. She'd deal with the caller first. The naked man wasn't going anywhere.

  The instant the woman left the room, Harry sat up and turned to the cage door. He had to make his escape quickly, while she was occupied. He shivered. The temperature in the already cold room had dropped like a rock when she opened the door. It was also a reaction from all the energy he'd just burned clouding her mind. It annoyed him that she'd blocked most of what he'd sent her way; her resistance made his headache worse.

  That wasn't supposed to happen!

  While his stiff fingers worked the latch, he heard her voice in the distance, her tone calm and professional.

  It only took seconds to open the door, then he crawled out and stretched his cramped muscles as he stood. Harry was not a short man, and being able to stretch out to his full height caused him to let out a sigh of relief.

  Though he couldn't believe she'd heard him, suddenly the woman became silent. He could feel her listening, feel her stillness. It was like there was some kind of connection between them.

  A connection Harry certainly didn't have time to explore. What he had to do was get out. The extra few minutes had given him more energy, even if he'd paid the price in embarrassment, and he was turning back into wolf form even as he leapt out the back door.

  Now covered by a thick, warm coat of fur, Harry was delighted to be out in the brisk early-morning air. All his senses had shifted and sharpened along with his shape. Colors took on new depth, scents sparkled in the air, and his hearing became far more acute. It was good to be a werewolf, and he wanted to throw his head back and howl in delight. Impulse control could be tricky while in were-form, but that was because the impulses were good, strong, elemental ones. Control, however, was essential to survival.

  A howl would bring the woman running, and he needed to get away cleanly before she even realized he was gone.

  But one deep breath stopped him. There was something lingering—a faint, old scent—maybe. There were a great many animals in this place, which would make it harder to ferret out a trace of what might be there. But he had the best nose in the business.

  Harry padded silently forward. Might as well have a sniff and snuffle while he was here.

  "Just bring the kittens over, Mrs. Braem," Marj said when she couldn't take any more of the woman's complaints about strays and how bad animals were.

  Mrs. Braem had found a mother cat with a trio of kittens in a shed in her backyard and wasn't at all happy about it.

  "All right, then. I'll come pick them up," Marj said when the woman protested bringing them in.

  "When?"

  Marj thought about the mystery of the wolf, the greyhound, and the man in the storage room. "Later on today."

  "Oh, no, you're not getting out of this. I want them off my property right now, or I'll drown them."

  Fury shot through Marj. "Where's your Christmas spirit, Mrs. Braem?"

  "What's Christmas got to do with animals?"

  "Oh, I don't know—the manger and the stable, perhaps?" Don't get sarcastic Marj warned herself. Don't jeopardize the animals' safety. "Never mind, I'll be over as soon as I can."

  "This morning, Marjorie Piper."

  Mrs. Braem had been her fifth-grade teacher and would just call her sassy if Marj reminded the old woman that she was Dr. Marjorie Piper these days.

  "Yes, Mrs. Braem," she said.

  She hung up and hurried back to the storeroom. When she saw the empty cage she skidded to a halt.

  She hadn't known what she was going to do about the naked man in a cage in the first place—although her libido had suggested a few erotic things before she could stop it. The whole situation was worrying and confusing, not to say downright bizarre.

  She'd had a lot of questions—like what had happened to the wolf, and why had he taken its place? And now he was gone.

  How the devil did he escape?

  Marj laughed. She definitely spent too much time with animals if she was surprised that a human had simply unlatched the door and crawled out.

  But… where had he gone… undressed like that?

  She walked to the open back door and looked around. The numerous buildings of Piper Ranch were perched on the crest of a hill. The land stretched out below in a long, barren slope down to the flat valley of a little river that was dry this time of year. She couldn't see any movement. The man must have bolted as soon as she'd left to answer the phone, and was long gone. She had a lot of dogs, so if he was snooping around the place, there'd be an unholy racket of barking to warn her.

  Now both the man and the wolf were gone. She supposed she better call the sheriff and—

  Her train of thought was derailed as the ringing phone startled her once again, and she swore silently all the way to her office.

  "What?" Marj demanded when she picked up the phone.

  "Did we get up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?"

  It was her friend Alice.

  "I've barely been in bed," Marj answered.

  "Oh?" The small word held a very loaded question. "Veterinary emergency? Or did you and Pat—"

  "The Reverend Muller is a gentleman."

  "I know, I talked to him this morning. But I have hopes for you two."

  Don't. Marj looked at her watch. "What do you mean, you've already talked to him? Do you know how early it is?"

  "He called me. He said he was worried about you being alone with a wolf. Are you alone with a wolf, when I set you up with a perfectly nice minister?"

  Marj laughed. "Not that kind of wolf." An image of the hard-muscled stranger flashed through her mind and warmed her all over.

  She pushed her erotic reactions aside as Alice continued, "You have no business being alone with a dangerous animal. Are you going to be okay? How did you end up with a wolf?"

  "Didn't Pat tell you?"

  "Something about men in a van and tranquilizer darts, and you acting really strange. Marj, you've got the man thinking you're Dr. Doolittle."

  She'd heard the comparison before. She tried to be careful, tried not to give any evidence of being a crazy woman who talked to the animals. It wasn't so much that she talked to them, but that they talked to her. And it wasn't even really talking, but a kind of emotional communication.

  Except the wolf. The oddest thing was, the wolf had actually spoken to her. That had to be her imagination.

  "Promise me you won't tell anyone about the wolf, okay?"

  "Why not?"

  "Because—" Marj started to explain that it had escaped, but quickly thought better of it.

  People had a lot of misconceptions about wolves. The chances were quite good that the locals would mount a hunt for the animal if the news that it was roaming free got out.

  A wolf was a predator, and there was genuine reason for concern for livestock, but only if the wolf was desperate and starving. A wolf withou
t a pack would be far more likely to go after prey like rodents than attack someone's cattle.

  But her neighbors weren't going to listen to an educational campaign when it was easier to get out their rifles. Better safe than sorry, they'd say.

  Better cautious, than a dead wolf on my conscience. Marj didn't know what had happened to the animal, or how the naked stranger was involved. She figured she'd better find out, and quickly, and keep quiet about it while she did.

  "I have to go," she told Alice. "Mrs. Braem is threatening to drown some kittens. You'd think a widowed retired schoolteacher would take in a basket of adorable kittens, but will our Mrs. Braem succumb to the cat lady stereotype? No."

  People could be so cruel to animals. Marj saw it all the time, and it soured her on her fellow human beings.

  Alice knew this, but Alice was an optimist. "Bring the kittens to the Holiday Fete," she suggested. "Bring a bunch of your critters."

  "Why?"

  "You could set up an adoption booth, and you can auction them off or something. People are bound to want pets as Christmas presents."

  Marj wasn't sure she liked the idea, but Alice was a force of nature not to be argued with. "I'll think about it. But right now I have to get over to Mrs. Braem's."

  Then spend the rest of the day wolf- and naked-man hunting, she added to herself.

  chapter 3

  « ^ »

  Kennedyville's small grocery store smelled strongly of fresh paint and sawdust. Marj nearly coughed when she stepped in out of the crisp winter air.

  "Don't make a face like that, Marjorie Piper," Sam Murphy called from behind the counter directly across from the door. "I know it stinks, but it's a clean stink. Remember what the place was like a few months ago."

  A wildfire had roared through during the summer, but the resilient people of the small town were putting their town back together. The high school, where tonight's celebration was being held, had been the first building restored.

  Murphy's store was one of the last businesses to reopen. It was just four aisles of shelves, with freezers and cold cases along the walls. Not much, but having a local grocery store cut out the long drive to bigger towns to buy supplies.

  Alice said that it helped make Kennedyville home, trying to remind Marj that she was part of the community. Marj hadn't been in town much for a while, and wasn't sure she even wanted to belong. She did take pride in being useful to the town, though, even if she did it more for the animals than the people.

  She forced herself to be cheerful, and told Sam, "You could keep the door open to let a little fresh air in."

  "There's probably a Health Department rule against it," he answered.

  "Why would you have to worry about the Health Department?" she asked, closing the door behind her.

  "I wouldn't," Sam answered, a little too loudly.

  He glanced toward the freezer cases along one wall. Marj followed his glance to see a tall, dark-haired stranger in a brown leather jacket in front of the small dairy section.

  Marj noticed that he had a strong, square jaw, and a high-arched, elegant nose. The man stood with his head cocked to one side, studying the milk selection. But the store owner looked with narrow-eyed suspicion on the man. It seemed he thought the man was listening to them.

  Marj couldn't help but smile. Okay, maybe the folk around here were a bit insular, and most strangers were of the passing-through sort. Outsiders generally didn't go beyond the motel on the edge of the town or the truck stop diner across the road. For an outsider to come in for a few groceries was unusual.

  Which aroused her suspicions, since she'd had some pretty weird encounters with strangers recently. There wasn't anything particularly familiar about the man by the milk case, but she hadn't seen her intruder's face. Any distinguishing marks that might identify this man as him were covered by clothing. Besides, he looked too tall to have been stuffed inside the kennel.

  She guessed that the stranger had tried to strike up a friendly conversation with the shopkeeper, not knowing that Sam Murphy was the most taciturn person alive with anyone he hadn't known for at least a decade.

  "Are you going to be at the high school tonight?" she asked Sam as she stepped toward the dairy case herself.

  "Not if there's going to be animals there."

  "Murphy, you are such a grump." She noticed that his only concession to Christmas decorating was a string of tiny multicolored lights hung on the front counter. "I'm giving away kittens."

  "I thought I heard something about that. Heard about the wolf, too." He did not sound at all happy. "Did you bring it for show-and-tell?"

  "No," she answered quickly. "The wolf is—safe."

  She hoped that wherever it was, it was indeed safe. She hated that the news had spread, and she'd had a few worried, and rude, phone calls. But so far no one had driven up to her place and demanded a look at the "dangerous vermin."

  Well, there'd been a few demands, but she could be as stern and forbidding as they came. And she hadn't hesitated to point out that as the only local vet, they needed her.

  "You better get rid of that animal," Murphy said.

  "You sound just like Mrs. Braem."

  "That's because we're going steady."

  Before she could answer, the door opened again, and the store owner greeted another customer. Marj reached the dairy case, and tried to step around the stranger in front of it. He was lost in thought and seemed totally unaware of her.

  "Excuse me," she finally said.

  The man didn't move, but focused intensely arctic blue eyes on her. "What's wrong with him?" he asked. "Doesn't he like animals?"

  So the outsider had been eavesdropping! Looking into those bright, curious, compelling eyes, Marj couldn't be annoyed, and she was shocked by the flash of attraction that went through her.

  She wasn't known for being outgoing and friendly, but she couldn't help but answer in a confiding whisper, "You can't blame Sam. He's been bitten by just about everything—snakes, scorpions, dogs. Scratched by cats. He even got pecked by a dove once. My Taffy's about the only critter that's ever liked Sam, but he's too lazy to dislike anybody."

  The stranger smiled, which added to his attractiveness. He had deep dimples, and lines around his eyes crinkled. This gave him a mischievous air. "Taffy sounds like a gentleman."

  Complimenting her favorite pet was a good way to get into Marj's good graces, and she smiled at him. It didn't hurt that the stranger exuded confident masculinity, was good-looking, and had a deep, sexy voice.

  As they smiled at each other, they shared a long, lingering look.

  "You like animals, I take it?"

  There was now a distinct twinkle in his eyes. "You could say that. At least none have ever bitten me—unless it was consensual," he added, looking straight at her.

  A zing went through her, and Marj went hot all over.

  Which made her feel guilty, since she had a date with Pat tonight to go to the Holiday Fete and potluck dinner, and she was a firm believer in dancing with the one that brought ya.

  Pity.

  Not that she and the stranger were really flirting, but they were standing awfully close together. And his smile was making her feel all tingly and warm.

  She hadn't been involved or even vaguely interested in anyone in a long time, and now she was going to a party with one man and having a hormonal rush over another. Not that she was was going to do anything about it; the rush simply proved she wasn't dead.

  Suddenly she found herself wondering how long they'd been staring at each other, and why the tingling was stronger and the room warmer. And were they even closer, almost touching? The world seemed to have just gone away.

  "The world does that, sometimes," he said.

  It was as if he knew exactly what she was thinking, and Marj wasn't prepared for this, at all. Even if she was used to this sort of thing going the other way—but not with people. She'd probably spoken out loud, and the embarrassment of having done that shot a bolt of irri
tability through her.

  "You're in my way."

  Marj took a step sideways, but he moved with her, still blocking the dairy section. She ducked around him when he opened the case. She saw what she wanted, and there was only one; a yellow quart carton sitting between rows of chocolate milk and lactose-free milk.

  She and the stranger reached for the eggnog at the same time. Their hands met inside the cooler.

  The electricity that arced between them was as tangible as lightning. All of Marj's nerve endings short-circuited. Her head went haywire, and she jumped back with a gasp.

  The man looked stunned as well and cleared his throat. Then he reached for the eggnog again, and Marj got her senses back.

  "Excuse me," she said, "but I need that."

  "So do I," he said. "I have to go to a party tonight, and I'm told I should bring something."

  "Me too."

  He looked down at her from a height of at least six-foot-three. She generally wasn't aware of being only five-foot-one, but this man made her feel small. She didn't like it.

  "You're hogging my eggnog."

  "And you're expecting me to be a gentleman and let you have it." He shook a finger at her. "I touched it first."

  "You distracted me."

  "I touched your hand." He gave her a cocky grin. "I admit I'm devastating, though."

  She didn't know whether to laugh or be annoyed at this masculine self-confidence.

  She turned her head and called to the storekeeper. "Do you have any more eggnog in the back, Sam?"

  "With the Holiday Fete at the high school tonight?" Murphy called back. "What do you think?"

  "Everybody can't be bringing eggnog."

  "Take some chips and salsa," the stranger suggested. "Or potato salad. That's always a hit at a party."

  "Eggnog is more festive. And I brought cookies to go with it."

  "But not everybody likes eggnog."

  "Taffy does."

  Marj winced, realizing that she'd just admitted to catering to the tastes of a big, slobbering retriever.

  The stranger laughed, and handed her the last quart of eggnog. "I'm a sucker for animal lovers."

  She smiled her thanks and hurried to pay Sam. She found it oddly hard to walk away from the stranger, and was sure she felt his gaze on her the whole time.