by Alex Jane
There were other things that appeared to necessitate Asher hanging around at all hours, like the fact the mare needed small meals provided often until her insides got used to regular food again. For exercise, Asher would take his time letting her get used to the halter, and then walk out to the pasture and stroll around with her so she could stretch her legs without fear of her over exercising and hurting herself. Mostly, in the mornings Asher would have been and gone before Emmanuel even knew he'd been there to feed her and bring fresh water. But increasingly it seemed as if Emmanuel couldn't turn around without finding the Alpha in his line of sight, gently soothing the animal, or hefting bales of straw about the place.
Asher being around wasn't exactly a hardship Emmanuel feared it would be. In fact, the aspect that worried Emmanuel most was that he found himself beginning to enjoy the Alpha’s company. When they had been children together, Asher had been always teasing him, never letting him be for a minute before making comments about his appearance, or the fact he wasn't a "real" wolf, or any damn thing that popped into his head. The remarks had come with a peeling laugh and a wicked smile, but no matter the content, they'd always cut Emmanuel to the quick.
But the marshal at thirty-two was a much different person than at fifteen. He would still smile and laugh but also seemed contented to keep his distance, focusing on his horses, seemingly not wanting to bother Emmanuel at all. In fact, it was Emmanuel who would seek him out to ask if Asher wanted to eat, or to inquire how the mare was doing, or to simply pass the time. It felt natural to have Asher on the property, although he drew the line early one morning when he went into the stables and found a wolf curled up in the stall with the horse.
It was very early, the dawn barely broken behind the thick swath of cloud draped across the sky in the east when something stirred Emmanuel from sleep. Given the travel clock he kept at his bedside told him it was almost five in the morning in the low lamplight, he figured getting up would serve him better than simply lying in the half-light until the rooster crowed. He dressed and put on some coffee, lighting the lamps downstairs with the intention of reading. But that morning, he had a strange pull to go outside and walk around. When his feet moved him in the direction of the stable he didn't fight it and didn't hesitate going inside. Enough of the cavernous space was illuminated with the door open that he could see where he was going, and could see the horse well enough too, sprawled out on the straw floor. He was a little surprised she was so relaxed and actually a little worried for a second that she had taken ill in the night. That was until he saw the barely defined shape of a wolf pressed up against her back. The dark gray shape raised its head sleepily and blinked.
"Y'know, I'm going to have to charge you room and board if you're sleeping here," Emmanuel said low, so as not to spook the horse. Asher only huffed and lay his head back down on the horse's neck. The pressure made the horse shiver all over but Asher growled contentedly. Emmanuel rolled his eyes and pressed back from where he was leaning on the stable door. "Coffee's probably ready. Come on up to the house." He only thought to add, "And put some clothes on," as he was walking away, thinking he heard a very human chuckle as he went out the door.
When Asher arrived at the house he was indeed wearing clothes and a rather sheepish smile. Emmanuel didn't say anything until they were both sitting next to the fire with a mug in each hand and the coffee pot between them, keeping warm and ready to top them up.
"You been sleeping out there every night?"
Asher smiled down at his mug. "Wondered how long it would take you to notice. You really should be more observant."
"So, what? You ride home every night, come back in your wolf suit, and then leave so you can ride back in the morning?"
Asher looked at him like he'd lost his mind. "No. I…well, my wolf usually takes a run before bed, and I guess he ended up here once or twice. I figure it would do no harm to sleep out there with her. That way I could take care of the chores in the morning so you wouldn't have to bother yourself. I only left a change of clothes here for emergencies."
"I can manage you know," Emmanuel said, feeling a little patronized. "I do know my way around a horse."
"I know," Asher said softly. "But you have to admit…I mean, I hope you don't mind me saying but you sure don't look that comfortable around the old girl, or any horse for that matter."
Emmanuel prickled at the implication. "I'm not afraid of horses."
Asher held up his hands. "Hey. Don't matter to me if you are. You're doing me a favor by letting me board her here. I only wanted to make your life a little easier is all. Though I don't recall you having a problem before."
There was a look on his face that said he was hoping for an explanation, but his expectation only lasted for a second before he waved it away. "No matter. It's none of my business anyway."
Emmanuel was tempted to tell him—he wouldn't mind making it Asher's business—but instead he took a deep breath and said, "I wasn't. Not until…they had horses on the frontline. Calvary up against those machine guns and artillery? It was a bloodbath."
"Sounds bad," Asher said quietly. "I guess you see too much of that stuff it's bound to make you nervous."
"It's not that." Emmanuel ran a hand over his face, wishing he'd left the door open. "I got caught in a place I shouldn't have been. They tried their best to keep the journalists away from the action, but I couldn't leave those boys to fight while I sipped tea in a tent somewhere with the others. I was…I was hauling ammunition when the shelling started."
"You got hit?" Asher was reaching out to him, shuffling forward in his chair as if he wanted to check him for injuries even now.
His concern made Emmanuel smile, despite the ache in his gut, and he shook his head. "Not exactly. A shell landed close. I-I got trapped, buried in the trench. There was a h-horse nearby, on top of us, hurt bad. I could hear her…then the gas came…I had my mask but the others, they…they…"
He didn't realize his hand was shaking until Asher took it and held him tightly. He didn't say anything, and Emmanuel was grateful he hadn't tried to fill the space with empty words of reassurance or sympathy. That was almost worse somehow. Kindness wasn't going to make anything better. It wouldn't bring back all those men he'd fought with. All the men he'd left behind when he'd been sent home under strict instructions to keep his mouth shut about the conditions and the hopelessness of it all. Kindness wouldn’t stop him remembering the sound of the men and that animal screaming and dying when he couldn't do a damn thing to help anyone.
After a minute, Emmanuel cleared his throat and looked out the window. "So it's not the horse exactly. I just don't like getting penned in or closed in by the dark. I'm not afraid of the horses, only that they might…"
"Fall on you?" Asher said, waiting until Emmanuel nodded, and took a deep breath before he went on. "Sounds reasonable to me. I got kicked in the head once. I'll be damned if I'll ever walk around the back end of one of those things again."
"Kicked in the head, huh." Emmanuel's lips quirked into a smile. "That explains a lot."
Asher huffed out a laugh and smiled over at him in such a way Emmanuel's heart thudded against his chest in an unexpectedly enthusiastic manner and made him catch his breath for a second. The awkwardness of the moment was made a little worse when he realized they were still holding hands. He drew away slowly as he sat up, confused when Asher looked a little disappointed to have to let him go.
"So does this mean my wolf is banned from sleeping in the stable? Coz I'm not sure he'll want to stay away."
"I never said that," Emmanuel said, taking a sip of his cooling coffee. "Does technically mean I should double the rent though. What's the going rate do you think? I've never boarded a wolf before."
Asher shrugged. "I could always pay you back by helping out around here if you want? I noticed a couple of loose tiles on the roof, and the fencing in the pasture looks a little weak on the south side."
His experience of the man in his younger days had Emmanue
l's brain screaming danger, danger, but the thought of having Asher as he was now about the place—keeping him around, maybe letting him bunk in the house if he wanted— gave Emmanuel a warm sensation he hadn't had in a long while. Which was all the more reason to say no. Which was undoubtedly the reason he opened his stupid mouth and said, "Yeah? That sounds good. I quite enjoy the idea of having you at my beck and call."
Asher winced, trying to hide his pleased expression. "Beck and call? Maybe let's start out with call and renegotiate beck another time."
"I don't know how you can smoke that stuff," Malcolm said for about the fiftieth time since they had sat down in the old chairs that were kept out on the back porch. When he waved his hand in front of his face, Seth didn't say anything, only reached out and threaded their fingers together before taking another puff on his cigarette. Emmanuel chuckled and tapped out a little ash onto the deck next to his chair, not bothering to answer either, mostly as he didn't have a good reason. He'd picked up the habit in school, much to his mother's displeasure. He wasn't sure why Seth smoked. Not many werewolves did, but he'd always had the habit, at least as long as Emmanuel could remember.
The afternoon had been pleasant. Seth and Malcolm had arrived shortly before midday, after all the chores had been done but before Emmanuel had gotten around to eating. They had brought with them a basket of supplies that would have made a decent picnic for more than just the three of them and had insisted he sit down with them to eat.
It wasn't as if he hadn't called on them since arriving back in Lastford. They still lived in the old house in town where Emmanuel had spent happy summers as a child, back when Malcolm was still the sheriff and Seth was still able to make the vein in Caleb's brow twitch. The fact Seth was only related by the most tenuous connection never mattered to either of Emmanuel's grandfathers. Although they had continued to treat him as the troubled boy who had first come to them even after he'd redeemed himself ten times over. And Seth had treated the two of them in turn with the greatest respect and devotion, or as his personal playthings, only satisfied when his teasing had made Caleb roar and lunge for him.
Even now Seth and Malcolm were both old and slowing down considerably, Seth had lost none of his wicked sense of humor and Malcolm none of his patience. Emmanuel did rather suspect they had an alternative motive for being there.
"As much as I appreciate you dropping by and bringing the good tobacco," he said, wiping the corner of his mouth with one finger. "You want to tell me what's brought you out all this way?"
"Can't a man simply call on his favorite nephew for no reason?" Seth asked, not taking his eyes from where they were trained on the large paddock that backed the rear of the house. The way he squinted into the sunlight made Emmanuel chuckle.
"A man? Sure. You? Not so much."
"We promised your pa we would call in," Malcolm said, only breaking his attention away from the pasture to bring his mate's fingers to his lips and place a kiss on his knuckles.
"To check up on me?"
"Of course to check upon you," Seth replied, rolling his head to the side, and looking up at Emmanuel through his lashes. "That, and we've been hearing rumors about the kind of company you've been keeping and wanted to see for ourselves."
Emmanuel bristled at the implication but it was hard to deny, given the company in question was walking around the pasture with his horse at his shoulder, taking in the sun and gently exercising the poor mare as had become his habit in the afternoons.
"I'm not sure I would call the marshal company exactly," Emmanuel said, trying to keep his emotion muted. It wasn't that he was particularly ashamed of how he was feeling, more that he wasn't entirely certain of what those feelings were, and he would be damned if he would let Seth sniff out his weakness, despite how much Ephraim encouraged him to confide in his cousin.
"So what would you call him? Something more intimate perhaps?" A wicked smirk danced across Seth's lips.
Emmanuel huffed in derision. "I was thinking less intimate, actually. Tenant probably."
"Lodger, might be more appropriate," Malcolm muttered. "Given how often he comes around."
"Firstly," Emmanuel said as he twisted in his chair, coming to settle where he could face his two inquisitors. "I can probably imagine where you're getting your information, and I have to say I've never known four old men gossip the way you do. And secondly, he comes here for the horse. Not me."
"Right," Seth said, sounding as if he didn't believe a word of it. "And how do you feel about him coming around, just for the horse? Being that, according to Jon, he used to make your life a misery. Because I have to tell you, the way he looks at you has me a little concerned."
Emmanuel shrugged, taking a final drag on his cigarette before stubbing the last inch out in the bucket of sand he had put between him and his cousin. "I can handle myself," he said low.
"That's not what I meant, Manny."
Emmanuel couldn't look at him, mostly as he knew exactly what Seth meant. He had been more than a little uncomfortable when he'd first seen Asher in the sheriff's office, but when he'd shown up with the horse and had been so patient and sweet with her, he'd started to see a different side to the Alpha. Now with him being around most days, helping out on the homestead with more than simply stable duties, he found himself increasingly drawn to the man. But Emmanuel's softening attitude toward Asher wasn't wholly voluntary. He felt as if he was sliding toward him, drawn by gravity rather than will, and with their past history, Emmanuel found himself balking at the notion he could ever entirely trust the man. No matter if Asher looked at him sometimes and Emmanuel thought he might drown in the intensity of his gaze.
Taking a breath, he changed the subject. "You know, he named the mare Smoke, of all things."
Seth barked out a laugh, tipping his head back as he did so. Even Malcolm cracked a smile. "Oh my Lord," Seth said. "The Alphas would have a field day with that. Do you think he's forgotten…?"
Emmanuel shook his head. "No. I did check with him. I think he just thinks it's funny."
"For god's sake, don't let him tell your mother that. Martha will eat him alive."
It was true, even more than forty years after the fire that had destroyed the original homestead that had stood where the stables had been built, his mother still couldn't find any humor in the event, given she had been a girl at the time and deathly frightened. Ephraim was always willing to talk about the incident, the trauma of waking up to flames around them, and the Alphas' bravery in getting everyone out safely. Of course, as time went by the details had become more and more exaggerated, but Emmanuel never tired of listening to the story.
"I'm sure she will find a way to blame you somehow regardless, don't worry." Emmanuel looked over at Seth and grinned. "And I'm sure she'll be ecstatic to have the two of you in the same room when she comes to visit. Being that you are both so alike."
"Charming and devilishly handsome, you mean?"
"I was thinking more about how you manage to annoy people with such little effort."
"Why, thank you," Seth said, sounding sincere and as if he were finally getting the recognition he deserved. "It doesn't come easy, I can tell you. Years of hard work and dedication have gone into making it seem effortless."
"Papa Caleb always said it was your best feature."
The way Seth fought to smile at Caleb's name had Emmanuel looking away. There was a reason he was glad he couldn't feel the pack bond as the wolves did. His grief might have been crippling, but at least he hadn't had to experience his grandfather's bond being ripped away only to be replaced by the sorrow of the pack members left behind.
He was scouring his brain to think of something to say to lighten the mood when Seth's ears pricked up and he groaned. "I think you have a visitor."
Emmanuel frowned over at him, ready to ask, but finally heard the sound of a motor bubbling toward them in the distance. He straightened and looked up to the ridge, which was mostly out of sight from that side of the house. "Who is it?"
he asked, hoping to get a bit of warning, but Seth just snorted.
"The devil," was his only reply, and he settled back in his chair as if he had no intention of leaving his seat, no matter who was coming.
Unfortunately, Emmanuel didn't have the luxury of being able to ignore whomever was driving toward the homestead. Getting up, he rolled his eyes and Malcolm nodded sympathetically. He didn't hurry as he walked around the side of the house, his boots making his steps sound loud and purposeful against the wooden porch. As he began to turn the corner, he chanced a glance out over the pasture and, to his surprise, he saw Asher standing in the distance looking toward him. It was too far for him to judge the expression on the Alpha's face, but it was strangely reassuring that he had his attention even if he didn't really need it.
Emmanuel made his way to the front of the house as the Buick came to a juddering halt in the yard. It looked odd having such a thing there. Not that a motorcar was such a novelty to him. Back home in New York, the place was overrun, and even here in Nebraska they were hardly unusual anymore, but Emmanuel was sure this was the first time one had been this close to the homeplace. And when Walter Baskin climbed out of the driver's seat, Emmanuel hoped it would be the last.
"Mr. Baskin," Emmanuel said, by way of a greeting. "What brings you out this way?"
"Call me Wally, son," Baskin said with a grin so wide Emmanuel thought he looked something like a shark. "Everyone else does. Hope you don't mind me dropping by unannounced. I was just on my way back from Tyson’s place and thought I would kill two birds with one stone."
Something about the way he said it made Emmanuel wonder if the killing part wasn't a little too close to the truth. He managed to sound fairly polite when he simply replied, "Oh?"