by T. S. Joyce
“You can use my room,” Luke said. “I’ll be out all night and won’t have any use for it.”
“I’ll get some clean linens,” I offered. Finally, something of use I could actually do.
After the last sheet was tucked snuggly under the cotton stuffed mattress, I found the dishes already clean thanks to the likes of Trudy and Luke. They talked quietly while Elias plucked on the banjo that usually hung from the wall near the hearth.
Though I was excited with the prospect of overnight company, Elias yawned widely and said he was beat. I tried my best to hide my disappointment when Trudy squeezed my hand and headed to bed with her husband. Tiredness hadn’t quite settled over my bones as it often did so late, and the restlessness inside had me stalling for more time with Luke.
He was busy packing provisions for the night and redressing in the clothing that would protect him from the wilds he’d sleep in. He seemed very busy avoiding my gaze, and burying the tiny hurt it brought had me scampering for the bedroom to protect myself. On a whim, I turned. “You be careful out there tonight, Luke Dawson.”
He froze with his back to me, then turned his head just far enough for me to see his profile. The lines in his face were grim. “I’ll be back in the morning.” His voice sounded stiff and strained.
Whatever I’d done, I regretted it. The night had been pretty near perfect and now he was cross with me. He couldn’t just leave without an effort on my part to smooth things out. I approached slowly and the apology left my lips as I slid a hand up his back.
Luke flinched away from me but not before I felt the stiff tension in every knotted muscle in his shoulders. Frowning, I watched his steady retreat. “I’ll be back before you wake up,” he said before he shut the door behind him.
In desperation, I ran for my room and jumped on the bed so I could see his silhouette in the moonlight from the window. He lumbered heavily as if he held a horse across his shoulders and when he stopped and turned, my heart hammered away at being caught spying. His face was dark in the shadow of his hat, but the moonlight illuminated the rest of him.
He watched me there in the window for eternity, or what felt like it. I was a frozen picture on a canvas, and as susceptible to his penetrating gaze as a mouse to some exotic snake. My insides would burn me right through if he didn’t release his hold on me. And then, slowly, he lifted his hand in a small wave. I flicked my fingers and a little piece inside that had tensed up with his retreat loosened once again. A tiny sign of forgiveness and acceptance between us was enough to right my world that had teetered on its axis for just a moment.
He disappeared into the night and I sank onto the bed with my fingers to my lips. Dawn was a very long time away, and the best way to pass that time was to sleep. Ambling into the kitchen in my bare feet and night dress, I blew out the lanterns and let the dark strands of sleepiness drag me under the fighting waves of my momentary insecurity.
He’d be back by morning.
****
Luke
Leaving Kristina alone in light of everything that happened wasn’t an option I was willing to fool with. But a plan had been hatching in my mind since the moment I smelled Trudy and Elias.
No, leaving her unprotected wasn’t something even my wolf was desperate to push for, but leaving her with Elias, one of the best gunslingers I’d ever met? Well, that was the best opportunity I was going to get to change until Jeremiah managed to make his way home. If the damned fool hadn’t gone off and got himself shot already.
So from the moment I thought there was a chance to relieve the pain of going so long in one form, my body revolted in anticipation. My bones were drilled until it likely looked like Swiss cheese, and my flesh was fileted. Sure, I looked okay from the outside if I didn’t move around too much and give myself away, but my innards had to be ripped to bloody pieces to bring such agony.
Trudy was a quick woman who picked up immediately on what I was really asking. Would she stay and protect my mate while I ravaged the wilds as an animal? Her offering to remain at the house sent my wolf to howling inside of me.
I hadn’t meant to hurt Kristina with my hastened goodbye, but Lord knows from the soft look on her face as I left, I had. Loyal creature that she was, she’d watched me go from the bedroom window.
Even with my exceptional night vision, her face was shrouded in the darkness from the candle flickering behind. I’d searched and searched the dark for her full lips, in hopes of a parting smile to hold onto while the human side of me ripped into pieces. When her graceful fingers fluttered in response to my wave, that was enough. It would have to be because like it or not, the time had come to die again.
The barn owls were out hunting the rodents that roamed the forest at night, and the only noise when I opened the door was the welcoming whinny of one of the horses. The sound was a screech against my sensitive ear drums and I hunched forward.
Jeremiah liked to change in the woods, in a different place each time. To him, the newness of the environment brought a tiny element of variety that helped him through the pain.
It didn’t work so well for me. My wolf became frantic to claw out of me if I dared to put him in a new place he didn’t know. The farthest corner of the barn, behind the last stall in a dusty pile of hay was my death bed a hundred times over. The nerves that washed over me in waves at the sight of my changing place clenched my stomach with nausea.
I wished the change was like the legends said. Enchantment, speed and power. No magic dust floofed from my skin at the moment of conversion. The transition from man to beast took ten minutes at least, and there was no less powerful creature in existence than a turning werewolf. Any ancient, frail man with a cane could walk up and slowly bludgeon me to death with it and I wouldn’t be able to lift a paw to stop him.
I was faster and stronger than most human men and the animal that tore out of me was a force of nature to be reckoned with, but the cost was the pain. Eternal anguish.
Kristina lay in bed just a short way off, and though I’d likely scared her enough the first night to thwart her itch to go exploring in the dark, I’d have to be quiet. If she thought I was in trouble, she’d come running, of that I was sure.
The thick leather strap had layer upon layer of my teeth marks on it and the color had faded with time and wear. I’d used it since I was sixteen—since my first change. It was a gift from Da to match the gift of the wolf he’d put inside of me the day he decided to give my mother the children she so longed for.
Would I give in someday and burden Kristina’s children with this curse?
The pain drew me to the floor, and on hands and knees I shoved the strap as far back against my teeth as it would go. I wouldn’t scream this time. This time would be different and I’d die silently. I could do it to protect Kristina. There it was. I needed that thought to focus on. Protecting Kristina. I’d do anything to keep her safe, so swallowing my screams shouldn’t be impossible.
My fingers went first. Every tiny bone broke and snapped and reformed into something else. Blunt, harmless nails turned to sharp, black claws, and the fur that sprouted from my body was a million tiny needles shooting through my skin in the same moment. Every vertebra in my spine snapped and reshaped until it was shortened and made for running on four legs instead of two. I slid to the ground to accommodate my leg bones being ground to dust, and I groaned in a fight against the pain as my neck tilted back until I couldn’t breathe. The sound of my death was a popping reverberation against my elongating ears, and the muscles above my bones ripped and reformed into something completely animal.
After my near-silent torture was finally finished, I lay there for a while until the dizziness subsided. I stood and stretched every muscle and tendon out until my new spine cracked into place. Shaking my body to rid myself of the last tingles of the change, I trotted out of the open barn door and found myself sitting below Kristina’s window.
A soft whine escaped my throat as I thought about what a relief it would be if she could
finally see me—all of me. But whether she was ready or not, I wasn’t. The risk of her running and leaving me to mourn what could’ve been for the rest of my miserable existence was just too great. Until I was certain of her feelings, she’d have to stay in the dark about the beast that lived inside of me.
Turning, I bolted for the woods. I had until dawn to run and hunt and be wild. I had told her I’d be back before she woke, and I intended to keep my word.
Sniffing along the edge of the clearing, I searched for any fresh signs of Jeremiah, but anything I picked up was days old. Likely he’d left our territory altogether. Running so long as a wolf would make him nearly feral by now.
I ran through the woods, as fast as a leaf in the hands of a twister. Faster and faster I went until the trees whipped by in a blur and my feet barely touched the ground. I was as close to flying as a man could get and it was my favorite part of being the wolf. I rushed until all thought left my mind, and all that was left was instinct for where I’d next place my paw. My nose twitched when I picked up a scent that put shudders of excitement into my stomach.
Fresh venison was my favorite food, but I veered off the trail before the hunt even began. Hunting deer as a single wolf was likely to get me nothing but exhausted. If Jeremiah and Gable, my other brother, were here with me, we’d hunt them down using pack tactics. A single wolf though? Unless the animal was injured, I’d never catch up to its throat.
The scent of cattle, sleeping and quiet reached my nose but still, they weren’t what I wanted. There was no challenge in hunting the slow moving creatures, and tonight I needed to keep my mind off of Kristina. A movement jerked to my right and rushed away with a lifting of leaves. Rabbit was what I wanted. An agile and cunning distraction. The muscles in my hind legs bunched as I leapt into action after the tiny animal. When it was limp between my paws, I lifted my head and released the triumphant howl that had been tearing to get out.
I hoped she heard me.
I hoped some tiny instinct deep down inside of her heard me and loved the sound of my voice caressing the night air.
Even if she couldn’t see me yet, it was essential to my soul she be touched by my secret in some way.
Chapter Twelve
Kristina
The faint morning light against my eyelids was enough to stir me. I stretched and searched for cool pockets under the covers with my legs, then blinked my eyes open. The room was just as it had been last night but with one difference. Luke sat in the chair near the door with his face resting against the palm of his hand and his eyes closed. The pillow was warm under my cheek and I fluffed it upward to give me a better view of him.
His cotton shirt was halfway unbuttoned and his sleeves rolled up. Save a pair of dark cotton pants, he wore nothing else. A small pile of clothing graced the floor beside him and my eyes were pulled again to the opening of his shirt. The skin there was smooth and dark, and the outline of his stony musculature was visible even in the thin light of dawn.
“Come here,” I said.
Immediately, his brilliant green eyes were on me.
“Come lay beside me until the rooster crows,” I whispered.
I rolled over and faced the wall and the bed groaned under his weight as he lay on top of the covers behind me. His hand rested tenderly on my hip but it wasn’t enough. I pulled it over my waist and held it with my own. Such a contrast, our skin was. His palm was rough with callouses and strong from the labor of running a ranch. A man’s hands, while mine were soft and miniature against his. His arm relaxed over me as his breathing slowed, and I fell asleep once more to the warmth and safety that washed over the space between the sturdy wall and the able body of my man.
When I woke up for good, the bed beside me boasted only Luke’s indentation in the pillow. The covers under my hand were cool and I squinted at the bright sky to try and gauge the time—a pointless endeavor because I’d always been awful at it. Shrugging into a robe, I padded down the hall to Luke’s half opened door.
Luke stood over his washbasin with a bottle of cream and a straight razor, and a half shaved smile lit up his face when I peeked my head into his room further.
“Mornin’,” he said cheerily.
“Where are Trudy and Elias?”
“They left at first light. Trudy’s working at Cotton’s today and had to be there early. She said to tell you bye and she left you that.” He twitched his head in the direction of the bed. On it lay a brown wrapped package held together by twine.
“My dress?”
“I imagine so. Now go put it on and get ready. Since you can ride now, you’re coming out with me today.”
Now if the prospect of spending an entire day with Luke and finally out of the house wasn’t enough to send me skittering for the package, then I didn’t know what would. I rushed to get ready, pausing only to admire the fine dress of gray and red floral calico in the small mirror above my washbasin. I fixed my hair in a casual braid so long it tickled my tailbone, then rushed for the kitchen to find leftover cornbread from last night’s dinner. Two tightly wrapped pieces plunked into my dress pocket and my shoes were pulled on before Luke even entered the big room.
“Did you already eat?” he asked.
Amusement danced in his eyes but what did I care? I was getting out of the house! “I put two pieces of cornbread for us in my pocket already.”
“Eat one while I finish dressing. I ain’t gonna leave you.”
Only slightly disheartened we weren’t leaving right this millisecond, I inhaled a slice of the golden, buttered bread and wiped my mouth with the back of my forearm.
Luke was taking his sweet time fastening up the holster for his weapons, so I snatched his hat off the peg and handed it to him with a cheery smile. “Trudy said I need a knife.”
“What kind of knife?”
“One for cooking and gutting a man I suppose.”
His eyebrows flew up. “Oh. All right, I guess it wouldn’t hurt for you to have one.” His eyes danced. “In case you need to gut a man.”
I slapped him on the arm soundly. “Luke Dawson, don’t you make fun of me. I could’ve used a knife when those men took me. I didn’t have a single weapon on me.”
“Oh, you had weapons and you used them. Teeth and claws. I saw the man you let go. He was all torn up. Seems you bit through half his hand.”
I tipped my chin and straightened my spine. “Well, he would’ve got a whole lot worse if I had a blade on me.”
Luke dug through a chest in the corner of the room. “Here you go. Don’t go sticking yourself now. Best to keep it sheathed until you need it.”
The knife wasn’t as big as his but it fit my hand. The handle was made of some sort of animal bone or antler and the blade gleamed in the sunlight that streamed in through the window. I could see my own grin in the steely reflection. I slid it back into its leather sheath and stuck it in my dress pocket. The weight was a comfort. I had all kinds of hidden weapons now.
Luke didn’t bother with his jacket. He wore a dark sleeveless vest over his cotton shirt. Cow leather pants met worn, spur shackled boots that went almost to his knee. A trim man like him was made to wear these sorts of clothes.
The leather string that tied the belted holster steadily to his thigh made a zipping sound as he tightened it. His eyes met mine like he knew I was watching. “You like the way I look?” he asked with his head cocked to the side.
If it hadn’t been obvious from me staring at him like he was a jug of water in the desert, it was a surprise to me. He didn’t have to know I’d been undressing him with my mind, but even a confident man needed reassurance every once in a while. That much I’d learned quick at the brothel. “You suit me just fine,” I said.
His fingers reached out to brush the fabric against my waist. “I like the way you look just fine, too.”
My insides melted like butter in an iron skillet. How could a rugged country man who could slit someone’s throat so easily say such sweet things to a woman like me?
Rosy was in a good mood, probably because of the bucket of oats Luke gave her to munch on while he taught me the ins and outs of brushing her hide to shining. The saddle blanket was well in the realm of what my flimsy arms could hoist over her back, but the saddle was a different matter. It took several tries and copious amounts of grunting to get it over.
Rosy looked back at me in annoyance several times, but Luke said she’d get used to the saddle the more I used it. He taught me how to tighten it as the horse exhaled to keep the saddle from slipping. When Rosy was all done up, he saddled his own horse in the blink of an eye. Lifting the saddle proved difficult but I would adjust as I did with everything else in my new life, and already I could mount her by myself.
The cows sounded furious we’d missed their milking but Luke said we’d have to take care of the barn animals when we got back. The grazing herd of cattle were getting too close to Old Man Murphy’s land, and apparently that grumpy old son-of-a-gun would right out thieve them from under us if they ate so much as one blade of grass from his property.
Rosy wanted to run, and though I held onto my saddle horn for dear life, I couldn’t help the breathless giggles that escaped me. If I could balance with my hands straight out to catch the wind that caressed my body, I would’ve done it. With Luke’s eyes on me and an easy smile that lit him up like the moon, I’d never been freer.
“Whoa,” I said as I pulled Rosy’s rope to my chest. She slowed to a skittish walk as we ambled the edge of the large herd of Dawson cattle.
Luke pointed. “You see that ridge over there? That’s Old Man Murphy’s land. We need to push them back closer to the house.”
We were almost spitting distance to the property line. “Okay, what do I do?”
“Go around them wide. Don’t spook them and then when you get your back to the property line, you start hollerin’. When we get them moving, we’ll come up around the sides and keep them from scattering.”