“No,” she said, “I’ll be fine right here if you’ll call a tow truck for me.”
“Not going to happen.” He stopped and shrugged. “George and his truck will be out of commission until along about noon tomorrow. You’ll be better off to come along with me.”
“It would probably be best if you called the police then. They can write up the report and take me home. I don’t live very far.” She smacked at a series of mosquitos that she hadn’t noticed before.
“You’re not from around here,” he said, looking at her curiously, “Who are you staying with?”
“Oh, I’m not staying with…” Elizabeth snapped her mouth shut. Where was her good sense telling a stranger where she lived… alone? “Please just call the police.”
He laughed. “Won’t do any good. They’re already here. I guess I should have introduced myself, but I was a little distracted.” He gave her a two finger salute. “Marshall Goodman. That’s my name, not my title. My title is Village Police Chief for what it’s worth.”
“You’re not wearing a uniform,” she said suspiciously.
“I rarely do.” He took another step down the hill. “Look, a neighbor called to say they heard the crash and the horn. You need help and I’m here to give it. Stay still until I get to you.”
There was no way to avoid it. It was foolish to stand here like an imbecile waiting to be rescued, so she started up the slope to meet him, but before she could grasp his outstretched hand, her feet slid out from under her and she ended up face first in the mud. Her startled “Oh!” left her mouth open when she hit the dirt and she was spitting leaves when he scooped her up into his arms which started the belly clenching heartbeat thing again.
“Stop wiggling or we’ll both be in the mud,” he ordered.
“It’s in my mouth,” she squealed. She tried to wipe the mud from her tongue with her hand forgetting that her hand was muddy, too. How was she supposed to think clearly when the heat from his hand on her butt was…?
“Stay still, dammit!”
A sharp whap on her rear made her stop wiggling. Startled, she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest and her breasts immediately felt like this was the place they wanted to be. She could feel his heart beating against her cheek and her heart quickened its pace to match it.
The t-shirt smelled fresh from the wash and, except where her dirty face had rubbed, was mercifully clean. He was busy keeping his footing as he carried her up the hill. He’d never notice if she used his shirt to clean the mud from her tongue. She licked and then licked again. She could feel his skin shiver beneath her tongue and the shirt. It was fascinating and just a little bit exciting, so she found a clean spot and did it again.
He stumbled and cursed. “Good god, woman, what the hell do you think you’re doing!”
“Oops,” she mumbled into his shirt. This was so not her. Somewhere on her mother’s list of Things You Must Never Do, right under passing gas in church and mending your underwear with safety pins, there had to be something about licking a strange man’s chest. She giggled a little at the thought. That bump to the head must have been harder than she thought.
He set her down on the edge of the road so quickly she had to hang on to his arm to keep her balance. A light colored SUV was parked about ten yards away, emergency flashers blinking. The light bar across the top was dark.
“Come on, little lady. Let’s get you out of here.”
He started walking and she followed. When he got to the vehicle, he opened the hatch and removed a heavy green blanket that he wrapped around her and tucked tightly under her chin.
“There. We’ll both feel safer if you wear this.” He opened the passenger door for her and waited until the seatbelt clicked before he spoke again. “You got a name?”
“Oh! Sorry. Elizabeth Reynolds.”
“Pleased to meet you, Lizzie. You want to tell me what happened?”
She almost corrected him. Her name was Elizabeth. No one had ever called her anything else. Instead, she told him, honestly and without exaggeration, what she saw that caused her to swerve off the road. His hands clenched almost imperceptibly on the steering wheel.
“Probably a deer,” he said when she finished.
“It was not a deer,” she said indignantly. “I know what a deer looks like. I hit one two years ago. The sight of it leaping in front of my car isn’t something I’ll easily forget. This was bigger, furrier, like a dog.”
He shrugged. “Could have been a bear, I suppose.”
“Bears lumber. They don’t run.” She crossed her arms over her chest and huffed.
Marshall laughed. “Had a lot of experience with bears, have you?”
“No, but I’d recognize a bear if I saw one and this wasn’t.” Did he think she didn’t know how this sounded? She remembered reading somewhere that a great many single car accidents were attributed to large white dogs darting across the road. These claims were rarely substantiated.
“So you’d rather stick with a giant, dark, shadowy dog that you saw for a split second rather than a deer or a bear which are both common in these woods.” The police chief raised his right eyebrow in question. The corner of his mouth quirked up.
“I know it sounds foolish, but…”
“Not foolish. You were surprised, frightened, trying to control your car. You hit your head.” He sounded sympathetic and understanding. He lifted his head and seemed to sniff the air. “We’d better get moving.”
By the time he walked around to his side of the vehicle, she’d almost convinced herself that he was right. It all happened so fast.
“Now, where did you say you were staying?” he asked as he turned the car around.
“I didn’t.” And then she smiled. The man was the police chief for heaven’s sake. It said so on the side of the car. “The Connor place,” she said.
He looked surprised. “I’d know if that place was rented out. No one’s lived there in a couple of years.”
“They do now,” she said, “I rented it two weeks ago. I have the papers and key right here in my… Oh shit. My bag! I left it in the car. We have to go back.”
“Look, it’s late. We’ll get your things tomorrow.”
He was looking up through the trees as if trying to see the sky. Not Likely. The branches were as thick overhead as ever.
“You don’t understand. Everything I have is in that bag.”
“It’ll be fine. I guarantee it will be there tomorrow morning.”
“But the key. I won’t be able to get into the house.”
“Probably not locked anyway.”
Marshall took a turn off to the left. Her directions said the next right.
“This is the wrong way,” she said, beginning to panic, “The directions said…”
“You’re not spending the night in that house. It’s been empty for a long time.” He glanced at her and sucked in his cheeks. They made a loud smack when he released them. “You don’t know what kind of wildlife has moved in in the meantime.”
Raccoons? Opossums? Skunks? She’d had enough of woodland creatures for one night.
“Then where are you taking me? To jail?”
He laughed. “I could, I suppose. Thought you’d be more comfortable at my house. Food’s better at the jail, though I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell Henry. Sally Ann is one helluva cook.” He lifted his shoulders. “Six of one, half dozen of the other. Which would you prefer, Sally Ann’s food or a comfortable bed?”
The thought of spending the night under the same roof as Marshall Goodman caused her to blush and she was grateful for the darkness. And who did she think she was thinking someone who looked like him would look twice at someone who looked like her. Under different circumstances, she knew she was considered moderately attractive, but first impressions meant everything and what were his of her? Mud covered and wearing Granny underwear, that’s what and let’s not forget the shirt licking.
She didn’t even know the man,
for heaven’s sake. So okay, given his job, he probably wasn’t an axe murderer, but he could drink heavily on the weekends or spend all his weeknights watching wrestling and roller derby. He could be married with six kids!
A guy who looked like Chief Goodman had to be attached to someone. She didn’t see a wedding band, but that didn’t mean anything. Some men didn’t wear them and if he wasn’t married, he certainly wouldn’t be suffering from a lack of company. Imagining what that company would look like, she decided to save herself from additional humiliation.
“Is there a shower at the jail? Something I could change into?” An orange jumpsuit would be an improvement.
“Wash room, no shower. This is a one cell village jail. We don’t supply uniforms, though I’ve considered it. Orville Stewart can get pretty ripe when he’s been on a bender.”
So what was a little more humiliation?
“I’ll take clean sheets and a shower for three hundred, Alex.”
Marshall grinned. “As the answer to the question, ‘What does a hungry, mud covered girl want more than food?”
Elizabeth grinned back. “You a fan?”
“Don’t have a choice when I’m stuck at the jail. We get two channels up here and I have no interest in Hollywood. Good thing you like to read.” He nodded to indicate her shirt. “A librarian, huh?”
“Used to be,” she said. She was pleased when he didn’t follow up with a comment about horn rimmed glasses or hair worn in a bun. There were hundreds of librarian jokes out there and she’d heard them all. Over and over and over.
“Used to be?”
“I signed the lease on the Connor place the day after I quit. I’d been thinking about it for a long time and searching for the right place. When Mr. Begley contacted me about this place, I jumped at the chance.”
“Eugene Begley?” He didn’t look happy when she nodded.
They turned through an opening in a thick hedge into another lane, two parallel dirt tracks through the grass. The trees disappeared and were replaced by wide open fields on either side of the track. The drive curved past the front of a two story farmhouse with a wraparound porch and continued on to a large barn. Stars glittered overhead and a sliver of moon peeked out from behind a cloud.
Marshall stopped in front of the porch steps. “This is it. Home sweet home.” He was out and around to her side of the car before she had her seatbelt off. He held out his hand and she felt an almost electric zing course through her when his fingers closed around hers. It wasn’t unpleasant like the static shock you sometimes get from a light switch. This was a tingle of what she could only describe as sexual interest. How strange. She’d never felt anything like it before. It was unsettling and she tried to ignore it. He led her to the house, his head scanning left and right as if expecting to see someone.
The night was so still, Elizabeth could hear soft whinnies and the muted thuds of moving hooves from the dark silhouette of a long, low barn off to her right. When the officer paused and lifted his head, Elizabeth thought he was taking a moment to enjoy the stars and the moon. Then she realized he was scanning the tree line around the fenced field. He shook his head and frowned.
“What’s wrong?” Elizabeth whispered.
“Nothing.” He shook his head again and blew out his breath. “Something’s been spooking my horses, coyote maybe and for a minute I thought it was out there. I was listening. It’s nothing for you to be worried about. They don’t attack people. Normally it wouldn’t bother me either. They can’t get in, but I’ve got a couple of mares ready to foal and I don’t want them upset.” He shrugged sheepishly. “They’re my babies.”
He opened the screen door and flipped on the light as Elizabeth stepped inside. She stopped short and pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders looking down at her dirty legs and feet.
“Go on,” he said and gave her a gentle push from behind. “This is a farm. There’s no shit you can carry in that hasn’t been carried in before.” He pointed up the stairs. “Spare bedroom is the last door on the right. Bathroom is the second on the left.”
“Bathroom first. Definitely.”
Chapter 3
The good news? Chief Marshall Goodman wasn’t married and there were no lady friends in the picture. Bad news? He lived with someone named Henry and Henry had chosen the beautiful tile work in the bathroom and the carpeting and coordinating draperies in the living room and the new kitchen curtains with the cute little tea set print.
Elizabeth was a big girl. She knew that fantasies don’t come true. Otherwise they wouldn’t be fantasies, right? But just once, she’d like a fantasy that lasted more than a day or two or in this case, more than an hour or two. After all, how often are you going to be rescued and taken home by an incredibly handsome guy who is legitimately employed and a respected member of the community? The latter being the number one and two spots on her mother’s list of What To Look For In A Man.
Her first hint should have been the decadently soft and fluffy purple robe he’d given her to wear over her current nightgown; one of his t-shirts. The robe pooled around her feet and the front flaps almost wrapped around her back. His initials were embroidered under a black and gold crown on the breast pocket. The robe didn’t fit with his rugged demeanor at all. He said it was a Christmas gift. But hey, if you listened to the women who chatted in the library, relatives tended to give inappropriate gifts all the time, so how was she to know?
After her shower, Marshall showed her around the house, which was how she’d learned of the decoratively talented Henry, and told her to make herself at home. It was a great place, over a hundred and fifty years old, with four large rooms on the first floor and four bedrooms above.
“This is the original woodwork, isn’t it?” Elizabeth ran her hand over the carved newel post as she took in the oak staircase and the carved molding around the ceiling. “It’s beautiful. You couldn’t find this kind of work anymore.”
“My great grandfather built the place for his new wife who was born and raised in Virginia.” He waved his arm around, indicating the house as a whole and smiled wryly. “At the time, folks thought he was crazy, spending cash money on fancy millwork from the city when there was plenty of wood to be had right outside the door, but his wife insisted. She was a city girl and refused to raise a family in the three room cabin that had, up ‘til then, been the family home.”
“I can’t say I blame her,” Elizabeth said smiling. “I’m not sure I could go from a home with all the comforts to a cabin in the woods.”
There he went, sucking in his cheeks again and releasing them with a pop. “I reckon you’d get used to it if you had to.”
“I suppose I would,” she admitted, “But it wouldn’t mean I’d enjoy it.”
“We’ll see.” He glanced at the clock on the mantle. It was the fourth time his eyes had strayed and while he was acting the congenial host, she could tell his mind was elsewhere.
“I’m keeping you,” she said, “You have things to do.”
“I was supposed to meet Henry and the boys an hour ago,” he confessed. “They’re counting on me showing up. I really have to go.”
What could she say? She was modern. She understood.
“You go ahead and have a good time,” she said, “Frankly, I’m exhausted and ready for bed. I’ll see you in the morning or whenever you two get up. Maybe you can drive me over to my house and George can tow my car there. I’ve been a terrible bother.”
Marshall looked relieved. “It’s no bother. I’ll see what I can borrow from Max for you to wear. You’re about the same size.” And then he was gone.
Poor Max. Elizabeth wondered how he’d feel about loaning out his clothes to a five foot three, a hundred and fifteen pound woman. And who would have thought there was such an active gay community in these sleepy mountains. It was near midnight on a weekday and the party was still going strong. Mr. Begley had told her the village rolled up the sidewalks at 8PM. Obviously, he was unaware. Well, it wasn’t up to
her to let the cat out of the bag.
She poured herself a glass of milk and went up to bed.
She awoke in a panic, bolting upright and fighting the sheets tangled about her legs. She wasn’t sure where she was or what awful sound had awakened her. It came again from outside her window. Not one sound, but many. The barn. The horses! She grabbed the robe and ran for the hall.
“Marshall! Chief!” she yelled as she tied the robe in place.
Elizabeth banged on the door he said was his and opened it when he didn’t answer. The bed was undisturbed. Marshall wasn’t home.
Halfway down the stairs, her toe caught the hem of the robe and she started to fall. She landed against the handrail, pirouetting like a drunken ballerina, and stumbled down two more steps before half leaping, half falling over the last three. She landed on one knee, pushed off of her stable foot and burst through the wooden screen door. It crashed against the outside wall and she felt the closer spring whip over her head when the screws holding it ripped free of the frame. Sometimes being short was a plus.
Faint yellow light was flickering from the small square of window at the near corner of the barn. Fire! She could hear the horses screaming and stomping inside. Elizabeth ran, the robe flying out behind her like a superhero cape.
Three dark shapes milled around the closed barn doors snarling and snapping at each other and the door. There were no trees here to block the sky, no skidding car to distract her attention. In the pale light of the half moon, they were outlined clearly and the soft light reflected off their fur. These were the same as the giant beast she’d seen on the road. Massive dogs. No. Wolves. She was sure of it when they turned as one to stare at her with blazing yellow eyes.
She choked, screamed and turned back to the house, moving faster than she ever thought possible, but not fast enough. A fourth beast came around the corner from far side of the house just as she reached the stairs. It snarled and leapt. Its teeth ripped viciously at the back of her legs and out of nowhere came the thought. That’s how they bring down prey. They hamstring them. It’s what he’ll do to me.
The Alpha's Mate Page 2