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My Estranged Lover (Middlemarch Shifters Book 5)

Page 14

by Shelley Munro


  “Stay there,” Marsh snapped.

  Ricky sat and shook.

  Caroline glanced away from the blood beaded on her arm, feeling lightheaded. Marsh murmured to James and helped him to feet.

  “Start your breakfast while I fix your mum’s arm. Can you get your cereal?”

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  Caroline groaned. There would be cereal all over the table.

  Marsh crouched beside her where she still sat on the floor. “Are you okay?” He surveyed the scratch marks. “He got you good.”

  “Yeah. He frightened me.” Tears swam in her eyes, reaction setting in. Frightened of her own son.

  “It won’t happen again. If he misbehaves, you must tell me.”

  “I will,” she promised.

  “Let’s get you cleaned up.” Marsh helped her up and led her to the bathroom.

  “You realize James will spill cereal everywhere.”

  “He might surprise us.” Marsh washed off the blood and studied the wound. “It’s not too bad. You don’t need stitches.”

  Caroline felt her mouth drop open. Shock slapped her as the truth of his words dawned. “You mean he could have injured me worse?”

  “Yes.” Marsh’s tone was grim. “I’ll lay down the law with him. If you have problems, get an adult to snarl at him. There is a hierarchy in a shifter leap. Elders get respect and Ricky will have to learn that. It’s a natural process of learning, but Ricky is doing things differently.”

  “Mum! Mum!”

  “Just a minute, James,” Marsh called. “I’ll put on iodine spray and plasters.”

  “Have we got colored ones? I need to help Saul in the kitchen as soon as Dara collects James. And figure out what to do with Ricky.”

  “Mum! Dad!” James shouted.

  She and Marsh hurried along the passage to the kitchen.

  “What is it?” Marsh demanded.

  “Look what Ricky did,” James said and pointed.

  Ricky sat on the kitchen floor beside a large puddle.

  “Oh, heck,” Caroline said. “And I thought it couldn’t get any worse.”

  * * * * *

  Two days later, Ricky remained in feline form, and Caroline was at her wits end. His early shift fascinated the other feline residents at Glenshee. They didn’t have to clean up the puddles on the floor—toileting mishaps—or deal with the other problems created by a young feline. He kept using his claws on the walls and furniture, then there was meal time. It didn’t seem right giving him cereal and milk or porridge.

  James sat at their table, eating his breakfast while Ricky ate chopped steak from a bowl. Once finished, Ricky trotted over to her and wound between her legs, purring loudly.

  “Ricky, are you going to shift today? Remember what Daddy told you about shifting?”

  Marsh had spoken to Ricky and described the shifting process. By now, even Caroline knew to imagine her form and concentrate to start a shift from feline to human.

  Ricky cocked his head and ran to the door. As usual, he ignored the instructions, seeming happy in feline form.

  Marsh arrived home, exhausted after keeping watch over a flock of sheep. “Hey.” He kissed her, ruffled James’s hair and stooped to pet Ricky.

  “I think you should send him to school with James,” Marsh said.

  “Will he be safe?”

  A tap sounded on the door seconds before it opened. Isabella sauntered into the kitchen. Dara arrived seconds later to collect James for school.

  “I think you should keep him to a routine,” Isabella said, not even pretending she hadn’t eavesdropped.

  Marsh sank onto a chair at the kitchen table. “Hopefully he’ll miss the things he used to do as a human and shift on his own.”

  Caroline eyed her younger son. “The next time he makes a puddle on the floor, I will rub his nose in it.”

  A gurgle escaped Isabella, and she slapped her hand over her mouth.

  “I hadn’t thought of the practicalities,” Dara said, her lips twitching as she fought a smile.

  Caroline snorted. “I’m living them. What do you think, Dara? Will Ricky be okay at school?”

  “I think it’s a good idea. He might miss painting or the other activities and want to join in with the other kids his age. There are always other mothers helping out.”

  Caroline nodded. “Ricky.”

  He trotted over to her, and she knelt to speak with him eye to eye. “Dara will take you to school. If you need to go to the toilet, walk to the door and snarl, so the teacher knows to let you outside. All right?”

  “I’ll have a word with the teacher,” Dara promised.

  Ricky grunted and stalked to Marsh. He sat on his haunches and looked stubborn.

  Caroline sighed and stood. “He thinks that now he is a feline, he should work on the farm with the others.” She scooped him up and spoke sternly. “You will school today, so you turn out smart like your daddy. The other shifters went to school to learn how to work on the farm.” She had no idea if she spoke the truth, but it was time for firmness. “If you go to school this morning, I’ll ask Saul if he will take you running this afternoon.”

  “Leo arrives today. We’ll take Ricky out, if Saul can’t.” Isabella scratched Ricky behind his ears. “But only if you behave and go to school this morning.”

  That solution found favor with Ricky and he trotted after James and Dara.

  “I came to tell you that Cam rang this morning,” Isabella said.

  “How is Maria?” Caroline asked.

  “She’s fine. They’re taking an extra week to spend time in Auckland. I asked Cam if we could use a room for your sewing materials. Maria said you can set up in the small reception room on the other side of the main lounge. She also said that she wants in on the market project. She used to sew as a teenager and would enjoy starting again. According to Cam, she has always wanted to change the reception room into a hobby room. Saul said he’d help us with shelves.”

  “When is Maria going to have time to sew?”

  “Ah, that was the other thing. She has decided to hire more help in the kitchen. The break has made her realize she needs more help,” Isabella said. “Cam is pleased.”

  “Sounds perfect,” Marsh said and yawned.

  “Catch a couple of hours sleep,” Caroline ordered. “Isabella and I will move this sewing stuff back to the main homestead.”

  “I brought the ute,” Isabella said, referring to the farm utility vehicle. “I figured it would be easier to shift everything at once.”

  The morning flew with both Isabella and Caroline working in the kitchen with Saul, then moving to the new sewing room. With dual aspect windows, there was plenty of natural light. Saul had found shelving from somewhere and fixed it to one wall.

  Isabella stacked bolts of material on the shelves while Caroline sorted out the cotton and haberdashery.

  The patter of feet and scramble of claws announced Dara’s arrival with James, Ricky and her brood. Caroline strode toward the kitchen and found Saul sneaking the children a warm cookie each.

  Ricky let out a protesting yowl because he hadn’t received a cookie. Saul glanced at her, and she shrugged.

  “I have no idea if he should eat them or not.” Caroline frowned. “I wouldn’t have a problem if he was in human form.” She took a chocolate chip cookie and crouched to give it to her son. His black fluffy coat bore splotches of Irish-green paint. The side of his face sported crimson. “You need a bath.”

  Ricky grabbed the cookie and sprinted around the table.

  “Don’t worry,” Isabella said in an undertone. “We’ll do some of our running along the edge of the lake. The water will wash off the paint. A car. It’s Leo.” Her face brightened, and she sprinted for the door.

  “James, do you want to help decorate cookies this afternoon? Saul is making gingerbread men.”

  Cookie finished, Ricky trotted back around the table and stopped in front of her. He yowled.

  Caroline made a clucking sou
nd of disappointment. “I’m sorry, Ricky. You can only help with the gingerbread men if you have hands.”

  Ricky stared up at her, his big green eyes unblinking.

  The door opened and Leo and Isabella wandered inside. Ricky trotted over to Isabella and when she didn’t pay any attention to him, he bit her calf.

  Before Caroline could remonstrate him, Isabella seized him by the scruff.

  “No biting. If you don’t say sorry, I won’t take you for a run.”

  Ricky made a pitiful sound and when she set him back on the floor, he licked her hand.

  “Who is this?” Leo asked, curiosity filling his handsome face.

  “My three-year-old son, Ricky,” Caroline said. “No matter how much we talk to him and explain how to change back, he refuses to listen.”

  “Three?” Leo tracked Ricky as he stalked across the kitchen floor and jumped on an intrepid bug. “Hell.”

  “Succinct. That’s my mate,” Isabella said. “I promised I’d take Ricky for a run. We’re stopping via the lake to have a…swim. You want to come?”

  “Sure,” Leo said. “I could do with a run.”

  Caroline swallowed, a sudden tightness to her throat and chest. She blinked and realized she was on the verge of crying.

  The sound of crying—Caroline’s crying—halted Marsh at the entrance of their cottage. Fear and anxiety tightened his breath and his feline grabbed for control. His head drooped before he straightened. He’d hidden from the truth long enough. Probably the reason for her tears. He strode into the kitchen, glanced around for the boys. They weren’t there.

  “Caroline? What’s wrong?” He wanted to go to her, wanted to tug her into his arms, but the sight of her tear-stained face had him sweating, his hands trembling. “Is it Ricky? James?”

  “No, they’re fine. James is decorating cookies with Saul, and Isabella and Leo took Ricky for a run. I just—” She rose from the wooden chair and flung herself at him.

  A wave of relief engulfed him. So much relief. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, soothing both himself and his feline. “I thought…I thought you were having second thoughts.”

  Caroline pushed back and stared up at him, her face blotchy, her eyes red from crying, yet he’d never seen anyone so beautiful.

  “No! No second thoughts. If anything, I’m glad it happened while we were here where everyone understands. Imagine if Ricky had shifted while we were living in Middlemarch.”

  “He wouldn’t have had the idea to shift if we were still in Middlemarch.”

  “Maybe.” Caroline sighed and burrowed against his chest again. “I’m just so scared. Ricky doesn’t want to change back. He’s enjoying himself too much as a kitten. What if he stays like that?”

  “He might.” Marsh knew that wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but he didn’t intend to lie. “All we can do is show him he’ll miss out on things if he stays in feline form. All of us have described how to shift and encouraged him.”

  She stepped back to study his face. “I’ve heard the workers asking him if he knows. He stares with those big green eyes and purrs. Damn it, I don’t want to install a cat flap.”

  Marsh barked out a laugh, then sobered. “It might come to that.”

  “This isn’t funny. I’m worried about Ricky.”

  “So am I. Look, Caroline. All we can do is what we’re already doing. We have to wait until Ricky decides he wants to change back to human.”

  A tear dripped down her cheek. “Oh, Marsh. What are we going to do if he never changes back?”

  “Try not to worry, kitten. We’ll take each day one at a time.”

  She nodded and frowned. “Why are you at home this time of the day?”

  “Alan was meant to watch for the stock thieves tonight. Something in the paddock has given him allergies, and he can’t stop sneezing. Hamish asked if I’d take over for him. He sent me home to have a sleep.”

  “I didn’t sleep much last night.”

  “Come and lie down with me. We’re both exhausted. Saul, Isabella and Leo will make sure the kids are all right.”

  The afternoon nap with Caroline had done Marsh good. He’d thought they might make love, but they’d both fallen asleep and hadn’t woken until Isabella arrived with the boys. Marsh smiled into the darkness, even as he scanned the landscape shrouded with darkness. Isabella and Leo had tired Ricky out, and on arriving home, he’d curled into a ball on Marsh’s favorite armchair and gone to sleep. Marsh had carried him to bed before he’d left to take over the watch. Ricky hadn’t roused from his deep sleep.

  Ricky was healthy and had a good appetite. Perhaps that was all that mattered. Marsh considered and smiled. If he, Caroline and James left the station, Ricky couldn’t go with them. If he missed out on a few treats, he’d become more amenable to returning to his human form.

  The hum of an approaching vehicle caught his attention. His gaze tracked the progress of the farm vehicle and studied it when the driver pulled over and parked on the shoulder of the road. He tugged a phone from his pocket and speed dialed Hamish. “I think we have action. There is a ute pulled up on the shoulder. Guy is getting out. Looks as if he’s waiting for someone.” Marsh inhaled, testing the air, the prevailing breeze coming toward him. Lucky break. “There are two guys. Smells as if they have dogs.”

  “It’s a private road,” Hamish muttered.

  “My thoughts exactly. Wait a sec.” Marsh cocked his head, hearing the approach of another vehicle, a louder rumble. “Here comes a truck.”

  “Hang tight. We’ll be there in ten minutes. Don’t do anything stupid.”

  “I won’t, boss,” Marsh said. No way did he intend to confront the thieves. He had too much to live for—Caroline and the boys.

  * * * * *

  Ricky woke up Caroline by batting her across the face with his paw.

  “Ow, mind the claws,” Caroline protested as she leaned over to flick on the bedside light. “What’s wrong?”

  Ricky sprang off the bed and trotted from the bedroom.

  “Couldn’t you wait an hour?”

  Ricky growled, and Caroline stumbled from bed. She could hardly blame him since she’d lectured him about making puddles. She shuffled along the passage and opened the front door.

  “Come straight back.” She expected Ricky to scamper over to the patch of grass on the other side of the driveway. But Ricky raced down the driveway and headed toward the homestead.

  Caroline ran after him and found large black leopards listening to Hamish.

  “What is it?” she demanded, coming to a halt by Dara. She kept her gaze on Ricky and saw him cock his head as if he was listening to Hamish too. Surely he didn’t think he could go with the men?

  “Ricky.” She spoke in a stern tone. “Come and stand by me, out of the way.”

  “What’s up?” Isabella asked sliding into a spot near Caroline. Leo stood behind her.

  “The sheep thieves have returned.” She glanced back at where Ricky had been seconds before and couldn’t see him. “Can you see Ricky? He seems to think he should help.”

  “I see him,” Leo said. “I’ll go and get him.”

  “You should get warm clothes,” Isabella said. “You’re shivering. Hamish, do you want me and Leo to help?” Isabella spoke to the boss when he headed in their direction.

  “Yeah, did you bring a gun?”

  “Always,” Isabella said.

  “Might come in handy to have someone in human form to speak for us.”

  “I’ll grab my weapons and follow. How far on foot?”

  “Ten minutes for a feline.”

  Isabella took off at a run.

  Caroline scanned the vicinity for Ricky and Leo. “Ricky!”

  “Shush, Caroline,” Hamish ordered. “Sound carries in the night. I don’t want those bastards to get more of our sheep.”

  “I think Ricky ran off after the men.”

  “What?”

  “Ricky—”

  “I heard you the
first time,” he snapped, sounding harried. “Stay here. We’ll bring him back.”

  “You could tell him I intend to think up a nasty punishment.”

  “Stand in line,” Hamish warned as he ripped off his shirt.

  Caroline turned away, giving him privacy as he got ready to shift. No matter how many times the men shifted when she was around, she felt weird looking when they stripped. “Hamish, please find Ricky.”

  Isabella tore past them and Hamish bounded after her. Soon, they blended with the darkness. Caroline stared after them, rubbing her hands over her arms to keep warm. She wanted to follow and search for her son, but retraced her steps to their home. They had enough to concentrate on at present. They didn’t need her blundering around in the dark, getting in their way.

  When she reached the house, she checked on James. He’d slept through the entire drama. In their bedroom, she pulled on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt. Unable to settle, she put on the kettle to make a cup of milo. Ricky…the little imp was in so much trouble.

  * * * * *

  Marsh stalked closer to the men, hoping to eavesdrop while they waited for the truck. He’d been right. They had dogs, and they sensed his presence. One of the dogs—he thought there were three—whimpered, and the nearest guy snapped at it to be quiet. Nervous. Good. He could work with that while he waited for the rest of the men to arrive.

  He slinked closer, hugging the scant piles of rocks and the tussock clumps.

  “Here is the truck now. I’ll let out the dogs.”

  The first man strode to the compartment on the back of the ute, the metal bar holding the door locked sounding loud in the silence. Four dogs jumped free and leapt to the ground.

  Once in position, he waited, every muscle tense as he listened to them discuss their plan in low voices.

  “Like taking candy off a baby,” one scoffed. He appeared older and was smaller in stature.

  The dogs milled around, uncertain. They could smell him, but weren’t sure of the situation.

  “What’s wrong with the sheep?” the younger man asked. “They’re milling around as if something is out there. Better bring the gun.”

 

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