Wolf Bride (Wolf Brides Book 1)

by T. S. Joyce

  I stopped him from jogging back into the small home. “Elias, she needs ginger. I’ve left some in the kitchen for you, but she may need more and I have it on good authority the general store has another root of it. Buy it up so they’ll order more. When she needs it, boil water and chop a small piece finely. When it’s good and mixed in the hot water, give it to her in a tin mug. Give her bread or something hardy right after, you hear?”

  “Thank you, Kristina.” He kissed me on the cheek before he switched directions for the general store.

  “You okay?” Luke asked as I watched Elias walk away.

  Inhaling deeply, I said, “I’m fine.”

  Luke’s fingertips brushed mine as he pulled my hand into the crook of his arm. Our shoes made very different tones as we walked across the wooden planks in front of the shops.

  “In my experience, when a woman says she’s fine, she’s usually not.”

  Clever man. “This isn’t about me. It’s about Trudy now. She wants me in the delivery room, you know.”

  “Really? Do you want to be?”

  “Very much.”

  His eyes tightened. “You’re changing the subject.”

  “I’m hungry,” I said with a tremulous smile.

  A grunt more animal than man escaped his mouth as he picked me up in one impossibly fast, impossibly easy gesture.

  Gasping, I said, “Luke Dawson, people are watching.”

  He pulled gently at the tender skin of my neck with his lips and a deep velvet chuckle reverberated against it. “I don’t care about what they think.”

  I smacked his shoulder halfheartedly as he strode across muddy Main Street. “You should. Maybe you’d get accused less of cattle thieving if you looked like a semi-honorable man while you were in town.”

  “People will talk either way. May as well enjoy my life.”

  That seemed like a sound argument to me, so I didn’t object when he kissed me fiercely before he set me down on the other side. Just as we were heading into Cotton’s, Jeremiah ducked under the shorter door frame and pulled his hat over short, dark hair.

  “Did you already eat?” Luke asked.

  “I tried but the sheriff and his new deputy are in there and they just gave me an earful in front of half the town.” He smiled politely at a family who walked by and lowered his voice. “I think we might have a problem.”

  Luke clapped him roughly on the back and said a terse, “Welcome home.”

  Rosy waited patiently in between the Dawson brother’s black horses with her back hoof propped up like she hadn’t a care in the world. I petted her neck as Luke and Jeremiah argued quietly in front of the cabinetry shop.

  “What’re we going to do with these boys?” I asked.

  Rosy gave a tremendous snort and shook her head until the feathers in her mane flapped back and forth.

  “Me either.”

  “That’s a mighty pretty horse you got there,” a man said as he ran his hand along Rosy’s hind end. “Is she an Indian pony?” He looked to be young, around my own age, with light brown hair and friendly hazel eyes.

  “She is. I wanted a horse with polka dots, so we traded for her.”

  “Do you trade often with the Indians?”

  His question was strange but his eyes held an openness I hadn’t seen in many men. He seemed genuinely curious, but I didn’t know what was unacceptable to talk about in these parts. “I’m not sure, sir.”

  “Ezra. Call me Ezra.”

  “I’m not sure, Mr. Ezra, as I’ve only come to town within the last two weeks.”

  He petted Rosy gently and leaned his head to the side. “You look familiar. You came in on the stagecoach last week, you said? Might you have come in from Chicago?”

  Something akin to a snake slithered down my spine. “Who wants to know?”

  “I’m just making conversation, Ms. Yeaton. Don’t take offense to a friendly question.”

  My voice dropped to a whisper. “I didn’t tell you my name.”

  “You didn’t have to. I’m from the Chicago area myself and never forget a face. Especially not one as pretty as yours.”

  “Get away from my horse,” I growled.

  He pointed lazily at me and leaned against Rosy’s saddle. “I see your face is healing from a pretty good beating.”

  My heart hammered like the pounding of a drum. He knew Evelynn French. I just felt it in my bones. He was here to finish the job the others failed at. I wasn’t safe at all. One step backward and my shoulder blades landed against a very solid wall of man.

  As I sucked air to scream, Jeremiah said, “Kristina, is this man bothering you?”

  Luke appeared behind Ezra like he was an apparition back from the dead for revenge. His moss green eyes seemed to glow when I said, “He knows Evelynn French.”

  Without a word, he wrapped an incredibly large hand around the stranger’s neck and dragged him bodily into an alleyway between buildings. Strangled sounds came from the man, and he made smeared lines in the mud and across the wooden floor with his flailing boots.

  Jeremiah stood watch at the mouth of the alleyway, and not more than a minute later, an empty handed Luke was back and headed down the street. Jeremiah and I exchanged a questioning glance before scurrying after him.

  “Where’re you going?” I asked.

  “To get you something to eat,” Luke said, holding one of the swinging doors to the saloon open for me.

  Jeremiah grabbed my arm before I could follow him in. “This is no place for her.”

  “Actually, I’m quite comfortable eating here.” I’d skipped breakfast in hopes of a meal from Cotton’s and about now, I’d eat a barbecued armadillo.

  “You heard the lady,” Luke said as he pulled my other arm. “And besides, the only other place to eat is Cotton’s and since you pissed off the sheriff, I’d say that’s out because I sure as shit don’t think we should be fighting anymore in public today.”

  I wrenched my arms free from the two iron grips “Unhand me, both of you! I’m going inside to eat. You two can squabble at each other all you want out here.”

  “Men and whores only,” the old bartender sternly said over the noise of the drinkers and gamblers.

  “Pipe down then. I’m whore enough.”

  A group of men nearest the door arched their eyebrows and one whistled.

  “Fresh meat,” another one with missing teeth and a long scar across his neck said.

  “Sorry, lads, I’m on a break of sorts. Carry on.” I sat at the furthest table and moments later the towering Dawson boys came through the swinging doors at a slow and deliberate spur-jangling saunter.

  From my seat, I had a fantastic view of the show. If my entrance had caused a scene, theirs brought the saloon to an absolute standstill, one they didn’t seem to notice. In a frozen room, Luke tipped his hat to the bartender.

  “Bucyrus,” he said in greeting.

  The trio of saloon girls sitting around an old piano were the first to react. “Oh, Mr. Luke,” the blonde-haired one squealed.

  Jeremiah made his way to my table and tossed his hat onto it. “It ain’t right for you to have to see him carrying on with these whores.”

  “As long as he don’t take one in a back room, I’ll be fine.” I leaned forward. “Listen, Jeremiah, you’re a real gentlemen, and it’s mighty kind of you to treat me like a lady, but you don’t have to worry overly about Luke hurting my feelings. He has experience with my kind and besides, if he offends me, you know I’ll tell him about it. He has to learn his way around me just like you’ll have to learn your way around whoever answers your advertisement.”

  After a long, hard look at me, he sighed in apparent resignation. “What do you want to eat? I’ll go put our order in.”

  “I don’t know. Just get me whatever you’re having.”

  He palmed my head and shook it slowly as he got up. While he was at the bar telling the bartender what to get the kitchen started on, my attention drifted like a leaf in the wind back to
Luke.

  Slowly but surely he was making his way to our table, but the whores weren’t making it easy. One wore his cowboy hat with a flirtatious grin shining up at him, another had both arms looped around his elbow and talked as if they were taking an afternoon stroll, and the last was running her painted claws up his thigh suggestively.

  Was that what I looked like when I was trying desperately to get a paying customer? I scrunched up my face. I didn’t think so. My clients had come to me willingly enough. The only time I went after someone was if I knew he was kind, or tipped well, or on a rare occasion, was an excellent lover.

  Hmm. My oh my, Luke Dawson was becoming more intriguing by the minute.

  “Ladies,” he said. “I’d like you to meet my wife. Or soon enough she’ll be my wife. Kristina, meet the only three whores left in town after old Bucyrus over there shipped off the other two on account of them getting the pox.”

  The ladies went silent. “Wait,” the redheaded one said with a drawl of disbelief in her voice. “Luke, are you settling down on us?”

  “Sure am.”

  Blondie shot daggers at me with her eyes and I smiled happily back. “Nice to meet you, and thank you for keeping my husband happy in my absence.”

  “Minny, it’s okay,” the short, dark-headed one said. “Luke can still come by and visit after he’s married. Lots of men do it.”

  Luke pried his arms out of Minny’s grip and shook his head in what I fervently hoped was mock sadness. “Sorry girls. Dawsons take marriage vows seriously. Kristina will be enough for me.”

  Minny snorted unbecomingly. “That’s what you all say in front of your wives.”

  “Do men bring their wives in here often?” I asked out of rampant curiosity. I’d never seen it once in my year at the brothel, but maybe Colorado Springs was a different sort of place.

  “Well, no, actually,” the little dark-haired woman said. “I think you’re a first.”

  Luke sat, but Minny followed and wrapped her arms around his neck as she floated into his lap. The red and black lace corset did little to shield her ample cleavage from Luke’s line of sight, but she was just being territorial. She was probably losing her nicest customer. I’d always hated when that happened.

  The bright red of her lipstick matched perfectly the color of her dress, and her blonde ringlets hung down over Luke’s chest. The oddest sensation stirred inside me, watching that strange woman lay across my fiancé like an ornament. Even as he was trying to gently pry her from his lap, a little knife blade cut at my understanding and released something seething and red to match the woman’s dress. I kept my face perfectly placid but even a returning Jeremiah had a sense that something was wrong, because he took one look at me and shot a warning glance at Luke.

  Minny never took her eyes from my face as she snuggled against Luke with a tiny groan of pleasure.

  “Don’t,” I warned casually.

  “Okay, Minny,” Luke said in a stern tone. “You had your fun.” He grabbed her arms and gently pushed.

  The crimson smile that spread across her face was nothing short of wicked as she clutched his jaw with both hands and kissed him soundly.

  Well, I’d warned her. The tiny red smoke trail that opened with the first feelings of jealousy burned into a bonfire in an instant as I rocketed across the table and yanked her hair back.

  Her scream was angry as her fingers flew to try and pull my hands from her tresses, but the lack of pain in her voice said my instincts were right. I gave another stout yank, and Minny’s wig came right off.

  Luke was already in the midst of pushing her upright and out of his lap and the low curse that Jeremiah uttered behind me was downright amused if I had to guess.

  Bucyrus held three plates of food across his arms and was in the process of setting them down on the table. “Hey! Careful with her now. She’s my best whore!”

  I threw the wig in Minny’s infuriated face and leaned back comfortably. “Well, now she’s your best whore,” I said, pointing to the redhead. “And your smartest.”

  Red Hair smiled boldly like she’d actually just got a promotion. Minny stood with her tiny fists clenched and her netted, short, brown hair for all to see for a moment more before she snatched her wig and disappeared with a wild animal shriek up the stairs.

  I took a bite of fried potatoes and gave my very happiest grin. “Sorry for the inconvenience ladies, but Luke’s off the table now. I’ll take good care of him for you, I swear.”

  “Well,” Jeremiah drawled. “That’ll teach you to bring her into a saloon.”

  Maybe he was right. Perhaps too much of me had changed for the better and this wasn’t my scene anymore. Luke stared at me like I’d lost my mind, but by the time half of my food was devoured, he was restraining a smile.

  It really was quite difficult to feel guilty about my actions when my man found them so amusing.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Kristina

  “Did you kill that man, Luke Dawson?” I asked

  Rosy answered the pressure of my knees and moved beside his horse at a trot. Jeremiah seemed happy to stay right where he was—in the back.

  “Well, did you?” I asked again.

  “No, I didn’t kill him. We were right in the middle of town. Where’d you think I stashed his body? I was only there a minute.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I put the fear of God into the man. He wet his pants and then told me what I wanted to know.”

  Irritating silence followed until I took the bait. “Okay, and what did you want to know?”

  “If Evelynn French sent him, which she did. How many she’d sent this time. Two. The other man was across the street watching. And lastly, what they’d been sent to do. They weren’t here on a kill mission. Just to scout and keep you scared. Evelynn wanted to make sure you weren’t skipping town.” The leather in the saddle creaked as he turned to me. “She’s going to have to be stopped eventually. You know that, right?”

  “I know. I was kind of hoping she’d end up out here to finish the job herself and give me a shot at her. I couldn’t touch her in Chicago.”

  His dark eyebrows shot up as if he were surprised. “You want a shot at her?”

  “If it comes to that, yes.”

  “Huh. You’re a violent little creature, aren’t you?” The way his eyes raked across my collar bones and neck said he didn’t mind that trait so much. “Circuit preacher will arrive on the morning coach tomorrow. You sure about going through with this?”

  “You sure about giving up your whores?”

  He pulled his horse closer until his leg brushed mine. “Well, I ain’t givin’ up all my whores, now am I?”

  “You’re a wicked man,” I said as his horse danced out of my swatting range.

  His laugh was booming and deep and my heart locked away the sound to cherish. The trail narrowed and Luke pulled back to let Rosy go first. Lurching forward, I cried out as she reacted at once to some unknown threat and bucked in panic. Unready, I was tossed from the saddle and landed on my side as she ran off at a frightened gallop. I groaned in soreness and as I glanced up, saw a viper curled on the trail, not a foot from my face. The sharp gasp that filled the clearing was my own as the snake reared up and stared at me with its flicking tongue tasting the air around me. I was going to die just a day before I married Luke, and the unfairness washed over me in the second it took to accept my doom.

  “Don’t move,” Luke breathed. In his voice was something I’d never heard before. The confidence had washed away, and in its place, the tremble of fear immersed itself in his tone.

  A sharp hissing sound came from the small serpent and just as it was about to strike, I held my breath in the last few moments of pain free life. Luke, in a move faster than my eyes could comprehend, whipped the snake out from in front of me just as he pressed forward to strike. He came so close, the wind from the poisonous little creature’s movement brushed across my cheeks and a tiny drop of venom landed on my nose.
Luke launched it far into the brush and fell onto his backside with the force of it.

  It was as if everything played in slow motion. He sat there leaned back against his hands in the dirt with a look of absolute petrifying fear. His green eyes were wide and his mouth slack. Something about his expression made me feel empty. It was as if something important about my life was changing for the worse in this moment, and I was helpless to change the outcome.

  “Luke,” I whispered. Even I could hear the pleading in it and I didn’t even know what it meant.

  And then I blinked and he was gone. My rescuer was already up on his horse and running like the wind before I could even sit up in the grass.

  “What’s happened?” I whispered breathlessly as Jeremiah lifted me by the arms.

  “Nothing good.” He wiped the drop of poisonous moisture from the tip of my nose.

  Standing here, looking up at Jeremiah’s stoic face, I could see the worry in his midnight eyes as he watched his brother ride away.

  ****

  Luke

  The wind whipped me and sang a mournful song as if it could convince me to go back to her, but I kicked my horse again in defiance. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t sink any deeper into quicksand with Kristina than I already had. The wolf inside of me howled in fury at my fears, but they’d always been the same. Nothing had changed from the moment before I met the woman until now.

  Giving a woman’s love to a creature like me would destroy everything. I’d bring hell to earth to protect her, and I’d known her less than two weeks. What would happen when I knew her a year? When I shared her bed and her sadness over our childless home? What would happen when I bound my wolf completely to her protection and she died on me, like all fragile humans did in our violent world?

  I’d drown in flames of agony, that’s what would happen.

  My wolf would be broken like Jeremiah’s. I’d be tormented for years until I convinced myself I needed another woman to love, just like my brother was doing in a horrible, vicious cycle that would bring nothing but suffering.

  I’d be the death of that perfect, beautiful woman. Only the most selfish creature on earth would put her in the crosshairs of this life and when she was gone, I’d have to live with a pain worse than dying.