Timber Wolf (Virtue Shifters Book 1)

by Zoe Chant

  "That said, the legal system also likes to see parental involvement in a child's life. Ms. Brannigan has testified here that Mr. Mitchell has had no involvement, financial or otherwise, in the child's life. Furthermore, upon questioning, the child himself was unable to identify Mr. Mitchell as anything other than 'the mean man that Mr. 'Growly' scared off.' Mr. 'Growly', for the record, is known to the court as Jacob Rowly."

  Brent howled, "A wolf scared me off! I don't know any Jacob Rowly!"

  The judge gave Brent an utterly scathing look. "Are you suggesting to the court that Jacob Rowly is a wolf, Mr. Mitchell?"

  Mabs's breath seized, but ugly color rose along Brent's jaw and curdled his cheeks. "That would be stupid."

  "Well then," Judge Owens said, as if he'd settled the matter. "Mr. Mitchell, in your limited exposure to the child in question, your behavior has been threatening and aggressive. You have provided no evidence of support, and your arguments in favor of an unfit environment have been found wanting.

  "Your petition is denied. I see no reason to allow you any rights, visitation or otherwise, to a child you have shown no interest in. If your child wishes to engage with you in the future, this court is willing to concede that that is their right, but you will not, under penalty of law, initiate contact with either Noah or Mary Anne Brannigan. Is my ruling clear?"

  Brent made an inarticulate sound of rage that prompted Judge Owens to nod at the bailiff, who stepped forward with the air of a man eager to do his job. Brent, flushed with fury, stalked out with the bailiff trailing him to the door. Mabs whispered, "Thank you, Judge Owens," and the judge crooked a finger, beckoning her to the bench.

  When she approached, the judge leaned forward, hands clasped together. "An advantage to being a small-town judge is knowing who you're dealing with, but I wouldn't be surprised if that man puts in an appeal to a higher court. You should be prepared for that. But more importantly, I need you to listen to me very carefully right now."

  Mabs, quaking, gave a mute nod to indicate she was listening, and Judge Owens exhaled a mighty sigh. "I'm glad he was there to help you, Mabs, but tell Jake Rowly to be more careful, in the future."

  TWENTY-THREE

  Mabs came out of the court room so white that if Jake hadn't seen Brent Mitchell stomp off in a fury, he would have thought she'd lost the court case. He picked up Wolf's carrying kennel and put an arm around her waist, offering support while he murmured, "Are you all right?"

  She took Noah's hand as they left the courthouse, shaking her head, and whispered, "I'll tell you later."

  "All right. All right." He kissed her hair, trying not to worry. His wolf, its fur fluffed up with concern, said, We should have bitten him, and Jake fought off the urge to shift, chase Brent Mitchell down, and do just that.

  "Is that mean man gone now?" Noah asked, distracting him.

  Mabs's smile suddenly blossomed. "He is, baby. The judge told him he wasn't allowed to come back."

  Noah beamed. "Does that mean Mr. Growly is my daddy now?"

  Jake's heart lurched so hard he missed a step. Nothing sounded better to him, but he would never have dared to say it so bluntly, or so early in their relationship. He was almost afraid to look at Mabs, sure that she wouldn't be ready to even think about something so permanent, or so...so life-changing. So real, especially in how it affected Noah.

  To his relief, and delight, and joy, she shot him a sparkling smile, then picked Noah up. "Mr. Growly and I aren't quite ready to talk about that yet, baby. Do you think that would be a good idea, though?"

  Noah nodded emphatically and Mabs, kissing him on the cheek, said, "I'll keep that in mind, then."

  "Okay. Can we have pizza?"

  "Yeah. I think going out for pizza sounds like a great idea, sweetheart." She put Noah down again and he ran to her car, climbing into his safety seat and waiting for the slow adults to catch up.

  Jake slowed down a little more, though. "Mabs, is everything okay? You looked like you'd seen a ghost when you came out."

  Mabs blurted, "Judge Owens knows you're a shapeshifter and says to be more careful."

  "She..." Jake felt his jaw drop and reeled it back up with effort. "Are you sure?"

  "Yeah. Yeah, I'm sure." Mabs's eyes were wide and worried.

  Jake shook his head, baffled. "Nobody knows, nob...we don't ta...how ca...hang on." He pulled his phone out, eyebrows drawn down so hard he was getting a headache, and called his parents.

  His mom picked up after three or four rings, her cheerful, "Hello, this is Rhonda," coming down the line.

  "Hi, Mom, it's Jake."

  "Oh! Jake! Hi, honey! How are you? I haven't talked to you in months."

  "I know, I'm sorry." Jake made a face at Mabs, who could obviously overhear at least some of what his mom was saying. She smiled, tilted her head toward the car, and went to keep an eye on Noah as he trailed along behind, saying, "I've been busy. I, uh. I'm back in Virtue, actually."

  His mom's voice went dry. "Dumped you, did she? Dammit, I knew we should have kept the ho—Mark! I told you we should have kept the house, Jake is back in Virtue! That twit he was seeing dumped him! Hold on," she said, back to Jake. "Your father is picking up another phone."

  Almost before she'd finished speaking, his dad picked up and said, "She was never the right one for you anyway, son. You'll know, when you meet your mate."

  "Yeah, well, about that—I mean, no, I mean, yes, but look, I'm back in Virtue and old Ms. Brannigan died—"

  His parents both said, "Oh, no," in perfunctory tones that made Jake smile.

  "—and her grand-niece or something, she inherited the place and I've been fixing it up for her, and—"

  "Oooh." His mother sounded delighted. "Is she pretty?"

  Jake, completely derailed said, "Oh my God, Mom, she's amazing," and he could nearly hear both his parents kicking their feet with delight.

  "Is she the one, Jake? Did your wolf let you know?" His dad sounded hopeful. "Are you getting married?"

  "Yeah, I think she—yeah, it di—no! No! She's got a four-year-old, we're not moving that fa—that's not the point! Dad! Mom! Stop!"

  "Well, if you'd call more often we wouldn't have to grill you when you do," his mom said. "When do we get to meet her? Does she know about the wolf?"

  "I don't know! Yes! She was amazing about it. Mom! Stop! Does Judge Owens know about us ?"

  "Vicky? Victoria Owens? How is she, I haven't talked to her in years. Are her kids all out of school yet?"

  "Uh, no, she's got one more who's a junior or a senior, Mom, does she know about us?"

  "I assume she must, or you wouldn't be asking, but she's not from a shifter family, honey. But you know Virtue." His mom's shrug was almost audible over the phone. "Everybody knows everybody's business and has for over two hundred years. Honestly all the old-school shifter politics is part of why your father and I decided to move out west. There's a really nice pack out here in Silver Springs, just very casual, none of that trying to keep the ancient pure bloodlines going thing, it's much more stable than that."

  "We were going to suggest you come out here when you eventually broke up with that woman," his dad said. "But you didn't tell us you'd broken up."

  "And that's turned out just fine, hasn't it," his mom said, obviously no longer talking to Jake. "Really, Mark, you don't have to micromanage his whole life—"

  "Well, how could I, he left home before his mortarboard hit the ground after graduation! He's turned out fine, the carpentry thing worked—"

  "Even though you were skeptical—"

  "Yes, fine, even though I was skeptical, and it sounds like he's finally found his mate—"

  "Look, Mark, not everybody is lucky enough to find what they're looking for in their own home town, and isn't that part of why we left Virt—"

  Jake, grinning, said, "I have to go get dinner now. I love you guys. I'll call again soon," and hung up with no doubt that they would continue their low-key argument, probably still on the phone. M
abs and Noah were waiting in the car, and Mabs rolled the window down as he approached. "Mom says she never told the judge anything, but she wouldn't be surprised if she knows because the Owens are old Virtue families. I'll meet you at the pizza place?"

  "Okay. As long as you're safe." Mabs pulled him down for a quick kiss, then nodded. "See you there."

  * * *

  Mabs and Jake ate enough to stuff themselves, but Noah somehow managed to put away an entire 9-inch mozzarella pizza entirely on his own. Mabs insisted they all take a walk along the river after dinner in order to keep him awake long enough to make it to bedtime. Wolf, who'd been cooped up in the carrying kennel in the back of Jake's truck while they ate, was delighted, and both boy and puppy were barely conscious with exhaustion by the time they got home. Mabs got Noah tucked into bed, then came downstairs and simply crawled into Jake's lap.

  He curled his arms around her, overwhelmed with the urge to protect her. "You doing all right?"

  "I actually am," she replied, muffled. "Emotionally wrung out, I think, but actually okay. The judge ruling in my favor obviously helped, but then I thought I was gonna have a heart attack when she wanted to warn you to be careful. It never occurred to me there might be people around here who knew. Does Sarah?"

  "I don't think so, but I wouldn't have thought Judge Owens did either. Sarah's family hasn't been in Virtue as long, though. I think her great-grandparents came here after the Civil War."

  "Oh," Mabs said, still muffled. "So only most of two hundred years, instead of more than two hundred years. Sure, I can totally see how that would lead to them not knowing the town secrets."

  "Okay, when you put it that way...."

  Mabs lifted her head, smiling. "Yeah. That's what I thought. Did you have, uh, like, other shapeshifter friends to play with, growing up?"

  "A few. Most of them have left Virtue, too, though. It's kinda gotten that way the past few generations, unless you want to marry your cousin or something. Especially for shifters."

  "I guess a lot of small towns are like that, though. Even if they're not full of shapeshifters." Mabs leaned her head against his shoulder, eyes closed, and sat for a while without saying anything. Jake stole a couple of kisses that made her smile, and she finally murmured, "There's a huge amount of work to do tomorrow, so obviously going to bed really early tonight is the right thing to do, right?"

  "I'll never say no to that proposition," Jake promised, but lifted his eyebrows. "What work?"

  She gave him a skeptical look from up close. "Emptying out all the parlor-side bedrooms so we can just totally weatherproof that side of the house and forget about it until spring?"

  Jake groaned, although he didn't really mean it. "Oh yeah. That work. Are you sure we can't just stay in bed all weekend?"

  "Even if I wanted to, and I confess I would love to, I've noticed that no matter how late I go to bed, my child still gets up at the same time and expects me to be available to cater to most of his needs. So...yeah, I'm afraid I'm pretty sure staying in bed all weekend isn't an option. At least, not for me. I guess you could."

  "What fun would that be if you weren't there?" Jake stole another kiss, this one meandering toward meaning business, until finally he scooped her up. "To bed with us."

  Mabs yelped and laughed. "I could get used to you carrying me around."

  "Anywhere you want," Jake promised, and thought, but didn't say, including across the threshold.

  She'd say yes, his wolf opined.

  I'll wait until I'm sure, Jake replied, and carried Mabs up to bed.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Noah, having gone to bed early, was up early, too, and Mabs woke to a shrieking child and a barking puppy. She left Jake to sleep a while—although how he could sleep through the commotion, she didn't know—and made pancakes for breakfast before dressing and going upstairs to let herself into Aunt Doris's old bedroom. Noah came in to help for a while, but lost interest in boxes of old photographs, bags of knitting projects, and stacks of diaries much more quickly than Mabs herself ever would.

  She didn't have time to go through the photos then, but she carried them downstairs to the buttery itself, rather than the rooms behind it, so she could look at them later. The knitting supplies she put into thrift shop bags, because while the idea of learning to knit sounded wonderful, Mabs knew herself well enough to suspect it would just go down in a long list of things she could beat herself up for not actually doing. Not beating herself up seemed like a better idea, so the supplies would be happier with someone else who would use them.

  "Great," she muttered to herself on the way back up to Doris's bedroom, "now I think yarn and knitting needles have feelings. I need to get out more."

  She genuinely wanted to read the diaries, so they came off the bedside table and shelves and went into a box she brought to the living room that they'd made from what would normally be a dining room area. Next summer, Mabs promised herself. Next summer, once the parlor was restored and turned into a living room, she would return the dining room to its original state and invite people over for dinner. But that was for next year, and for now, she was happy to have a snuggly little warm living room behind the kitchen. She put the box of diaries on the coffee table and went back to pack up—or throw out—everything else in the room.

  The stack of stuff for the thrift shop was taller than she was, before she had finished. Jake had appeared while she worked, distracting her with kisses that came dangerously close to more before Noah, out in the yard, yelled about something and reminded them both of just who might interrupt them. Jake let her go reluctantly, murmuring, "Do you need any help in here?"

  "Not yet. I want to clear the bed out, but I'm going to do that last. I've found a bunch of places in here already where snow dripped through, so we might think about getting insulation between the attic floor boards and the ceiling in here soon, but not until it's empty."

  "Probably a good idea. Tell you what, I'll start on the other bedroom, but call me if you need help, okay?"

  Mabs fluttered her eyelashes. "I will, you big strong handsome man."

  Jake, laughing, left her to work, and between lunch and playing with Noah and work, she got the room pretty well empty by late afternoon. Jake—being bigger, stronger, and perhaps due to being handsome, but she doubted it—cleared out the larger of the two front bedrooms. He'd even applied winterization to the whole front half of the upstairs before going down to the living room to play with Noah. Mabs, sweaty and tired, staggered downstairs in Jake's wake a little while later and collapsed on the couch. "I'm never gonna move again."

  "I'm cooking dinner then, eh?" Jake gave her a fond smile.

  "I don't care. I don't think I can eat."

  Noah, dismayed, howled, "I want to eat!", and Mabs grabbed him into a hug, nomming at his elbows and ears.

  "You want to be eaten? You want to be eaten? Okay, I'll eat you!"

  "Mommy! Mommy, no! I want to eat! I'm hungry!"

  Jake, getting to his feet, asked, "Tuna melts sound good?"

  "Ooh," Mabs said. "So good."

  "What's a tuna melt?"

  "Tuna fish on toast with melted cheese on top."

  "I don't like cheese!"

  "You ate an entire cheese pizza last night!"

  Utter betrayal widened Noah's eyes. "That wasn't cheese. That was mozzarella!"

  "Mozzarella," Mabs informed him, "is a kind of cheese. And I think we've got some shredded mozzarella in the fridge, so do you want a tuna-mozzarella-melt?"

  "Yeeeeeeeeeesssssss!" Noah leaped up and ran a victory lap around the living room, Wolf barking wildly at his heels.

  Mabs made the best soulful puppy dog eyes at Jake that she could. "Tuna melts with mozzarella for one, and whatever kind of cheese you want for everybody else?"

  Jake, grinning, bent to kiss her. "Your wish is my command, but you should know I'm genetically immune to puppy dog eyes."

  "Aw, jeez, I guess you would be. Okay, fine. I'll just look adoringly at you." Mabs trie
d to look adoring and ended up laughing, but Jake went to make tuna melts anyway. Mabs pulled one of the diaries from the box and opened it to a random page from 1945.

  She breathed, "Holy moly," and took another book out to discover it was from even earlier. She started putting them in chronological order, setting the most recent one beside her on the couch as she sorted the rest of them out, then gazed at the box in wonder. A whole lifetime's worth of diaries, chronicling nearly a century of experiences. The historical society was going to love them.

  She had to wash her hands for dinner before she got to start reading, and then of course there was bath and bedtime, but, determined to get at least some diary-reading in, after Noah was in bed, Mabs curled onto the couch with the last of them.

  Jake snuggled down beside her with a novel and his reading glasses, so she couldn't let herself even look at him or she'd get too horny to think. He did smell wonderful, though. That was distracting, but then the day to day minutia of Aunt Doris's life drew Mabs in. She read the pages slowly, finding them filled with how the modern world conflicted with how Doris used to run the old farm.

  The old lady hadn't written daily—more like once or twice a week—so the diary covered a couple of years' worth of time. After a while, Mabs exhaled in surprise, murmuring, "Listen to this, she says, 'That annoying young man came by again, trying to get me to sell the place. You'd think Robert Cole's grandson would know better.' That was—" She checked the date— "Just over two years ago. It sounds like Preston has wanted this place for a long time."

  "Developers are persistent bastards," Jake agreed. "I'm glad you decided not to sell."

  "I'm glad she decided not to sell." Mabs went back to reading, and a few minutes later said, "Oh, listen, there's more. She says Jennifer Minor came by, that's the woman up the road who rents some of the acreage for her horses?"