Wolves, Witches and Bears...Oh My!

by Nicky Charles

  At eighteen with no other family, she’d remained in the town after her mother’s death, the townspeople kindly helping her through that difficult time. She still remembered how Ruth had found her a room to rent and Armand had offered her a job at the Broken Antler to help supplement her wages from the diner. At the time she’d wondered if he was interested in her, but when he didn’t make a move she’d decided she was mistaken and found companionship elsewhere.

  As for Armand, he’d remained a good friend, yet always ignoring her subtle hints she’d like more.

  Or at least until the day we left Stump River.

  Right.

  Maybe, if he’d made his move sooner, she wouldn’t have begged Ryne to help her with this ruse. Maybe she would have returned. Or maybe not. All she’d known during those first dark days was that one kiss after years of being ignored was too slim a chance to bet the rest of one’s life on.

  “Shouldn’t you be leaving for work?” Roxi’s voice startled her from her musings.

  “Yikes! I’d better get moving.” She brushed the toast crumbs from her fingers and finished the rest of her coffee. “Have a good day. I’ll be late getting home; I’m heading to the drop-in centre after work. See you later.” She grabbed her keys and purse, pausing to check the contents and then hurried on her way.

  As she jogged down the stairs, she speculated about the arrival of her new ID. It had arrived yesterday afternoon, delivered by a good looking, taciturn messenger. He’d asked her name then handed her the package and left. How Ryne had been able to get the documents so quickly, she had no idea. She wasn’t even sure she’d told him her address!

  She shook her head. That man sure had connections. He was tight-lipped and seemed to know more about what was going on around him than he should. She’d once speculated that he was a secret agent or one of those special ops types. After all, men like Ryne Taylor didn’t settle in places like Stump River unless they had a good reason. The thing was, no one dared question what that reason might be. Ryne gave off a vibe that radiated proceed with caution.

  Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she crossed the foyer and stepped out onto the street. It was a sunny day, the air warm, the humidity low and the sky a beautiful shade of blue. It put an extra bounce in her step and erased any thoughts of black limos or weird ‘being followed’ feelings. In fact, everyone seemed to be in a better mood, a few giving her a friendly nod and a smile as they passed on the sidewalk. On days like this, she couldn’t think why she’d ever consider leaving the city.

  “Good morning, Jeff!” She pushed open the door of the diner and started to greet the cook, only to realize it was Dylan, the afternoon chef. “Sorry, Dylan. Where’s Jeff?”

  “He had an appointment. I said I’d cover for him. He’ll be back before the lunch hour rush.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  She began to check the tables had menus and the sugar containers were full. Gin was already making coffee for the breakfast customers that would be coming in soon. Kathy was wrapping utensils in paper napkins. Morning at the King’s Plate was falling into its usual rhythm.

  It was peaceful in the way any familiar routine was, allowing a person to function on auto-pilot while their brain slowly got up to full speed. The bowling alley didn’t open until noon so the diner was relatively quiet, the sound of oil sizzling and dishes clattering blended with the hum of conversation and the soft ting of the bell that indicated an order was ready to be served. No one had to raise their voice to be heard over the sound of a strike and the music was just a local radio station. Yeah, morning shifts were good.

  The hours passed, the breakfast customers leaving to be replaced by those searching for a mid-morning coffee. Jeff returned and resumed his usual place in the kitchen.

  “Hey Lou, check this out.” He began to slice onions into rings. “It slices. It dices.” He flipped the knife in the air, catching it by the handle and continuing to slice the onions. “The blade is perfectly balanced, becoming one with the chef who uses it.” He ended with flourish.

  She grinned. “That was a good trick.”

  “Thanks. I saw it on TV last night and practised until I could do it. Only nicked myself a few times.”

  “Well, use that trick if you ever get an audition for TV and I’m sure you’ll get the job.”

  “You think so?” The look on his face full of hope.

  She patted his shoulder. “If it’s meant to be. And if you don’t, then better things are coming, right?”

  “Right.” He smiled and nodded before getting back to work.

  The lunchtime crowd was now filling the eatery. Regulars like Paul, Andrew, and Will stopped in as did Karen and Lester, an elderly couple. With practiced ease she delivered meals, topped up coffee and kept a banter going with the boys then nodded as Karen and Lester shared bits of news from the paper they were both perusing.

  “When are you going to go out with me?” Paul asked. He was middle-aged, balding and had the beginnings of a paunch.

  “You?” Will shook his head. “She’s mine.” In contrast to Paul, Will was small and wiry with a droopy mustache that gave him a perpetually sad look. They were brothers, never married to the best of her knowledge, yet real gentlemen all the same. Just look at how they fussed over her, looking beyond her scar and acting as if she was something special. She added an extra dollop of whipped cream to their pieces of pie.

  Andrew rolled his eyes and shot the others a warning look. He seemed to feel it was his duty to ensure the others behaved around her. It was kind of him, even if it was unnecessary. After working at the Broken Antler, she could handle the clientele herself. The two brothers were no threat.

  “Sorry boys, no fraternizing.” She flashed a smile. Back home she’d accepted every invitation thinking she’d never know who was Mr. Right if she didn’t give them a chance. The strategy hadn’t worked in her favour though. Good old Lucy, that was who she’d become; great for a romp but never good enough to marry. It was one of the reasons she’d decided to start a new life. She’d wanted more, had deserved more, and since Stump River didn’t seem inclined to give it to her, she’d find it herself right here in Chicago!

  The door opened and she sensed another customer entering, pausing and then finding a seat. She had the vague impression it was a man and he’d chosen a spot in Gin’s section. Knowing the other waitress would deal with him, she continued with her own customers. A glance at the next table showed they were done with their meal so she went to see if they wanted anything else, and when they said no, she handed them their bill.

  “Pay at the register when you’re ready.”

  The next booth of diners had already left so she grabbed a tray, a damp cloth and a bottle of disinfectant in order to clear the dishes away and wipe the table.

  As she worked, a twitchiness developed between her shoulder blades again. It was different from the feeling she had when she knew a customer was trying to catch her eye. This was more like the sensation she’d had a few days ago just before she’d been mugged.

  Her movements slowed, her fingers curling into the cloth. Was it the mugger? Had he discovered where she worked? Perhaps following her here from her apartment? She swallowed hard and tried to use the reflection in the window to see behind her, only the angle of the sun was wrong. Turning around to look would make sense except she couldn’t seem to convince her muscles to cooperate.

  Instead, she kept clearing the table, eyes focused on her work as she scraped the leftovers onto one plate then stacked the others and placed them on the tray. Next she gathered napkins and empty sugar packets, setting the utensils on top so the napkins wouldn’t blow off as she walked. She added the cups and water glasses.

  Whoever was looking at her hadn’t stopped. The watcher’s gaze seemed to be boring a hole into her back. Her hand trembled as she arranged the salt and pepper shakers. When she was done, she lifted the tray and walked stiffly into the kitchen, setting the dirty dishes on the counter before leaning against the w
all. Her heart was pounding, her stomach in a knot, her skin clammy.

  “You okay?” Jeff glanced her way.

  “Just a bit lightheaded.” She waved her hand. “No need to worry.”

  Gin stopped to stare at her. “Likely pregnant, if I had my guess.”

  With difficulty, she held her tongue. Honestly, some days Gin seemed to go out of her way to be nasty. “No, I’m not.” She considered adding that her period ended three days ago but being snarky never worked with Gin. The woman was as tough as a week-old dinner roll.

  The other woman sniffed. “Do you live alone? Or with a roommate?”

  “Roxi’s my roommate. I told you that before. And what does she have to do with anything?”

  “Maybe she gave you a stomach flu.” Gin shrugged and walked away.

  Well, that had been a pointless exchange. At least it had distracted her enough that her breathing was beginning to settle. Kathy, the other waitress, was passing by and Lou snagged her arm.

  “Kath, could you do me a favour?”

  “Sure. What do you need?”

  “Can you check out the man sitting in Gin’s section? I think he’s near the door.”

  “Is he cute?” Kathy grinned.

  “I don’t know. I…” She ran her hand nervously over her scar. Ryne had said the man in the limo who attacked her was dead and she’d believed him. He wouldn’t lie about a thing like that. So, the only other person who could be watching her was the mugger. Unless it was all in her head. Maybe the person had been staring at a poster on the wall and she’d just assumed… Oh good Lord, she was losing her mind! “Can you just look, please?”

  “Okay. I’ll take a peek while I’m delivering the next order.”

  While waiting for Kathy to return, she tried to convince herself it was just a case of a man looking at her. After all, men had done that all her life. She’d developed curves early and her boobs had always drawn attention. Plus, she wasn’t hard on the eyes…or at least she didn’t used to be. Plain brown hair, thick glasses and her scar had changed that.

  The kitchen door swung open and Kathy reappeared making a fanning gesture with her hand. “I stopped by his table and wow! Dark hair with a beard. Muscles everywhere. Not exactly handsome but sexy in a back to nature kind of way, if you know what I mean.”

  Jeff looked up from his work. “Who are you talking about?”

  Kathy explained and Jeff peered out the serving window.

  “I’ve never seen him in here before but look at those arms. I bet he could bench press a fridge!”

  Kathy grinned. “He reminds me of a big teddy bear; the kind that’s easy going and takes forever to get a rise out of, but once you make him angry, you’re going to be sorry.”

  “Or,” Jeff scrunched his face thinking, “one of those rugged guys on TV commercials for pickup trucks; denim, plaid shirts, hauling lumber down a country road.”

  Gin sniffed. “You’re all a bunch of fools. He’s a customer, that’s all.”

  “Well, I’m going to enjoy serving him.” Kathy licked her lips. “I’d do him in a minute if I didn’t already have a man. I mean, a guy that size has to be…well…you know.”

  “Get your mind out of the gutter. And if you think you’re serving him, think again.” Gin glared at her. “That’s my section, which means my customer and my tips.”

  “Couldn’t we trade just this once?” Kathy pleaded.

  “No.” Gin turned on her heel and left.

  Lou ignored their bickering as a mental image began to form. Suddenly she was finding it hard to breathe again.

  “Oh and I think I heard a hint of French in his accent.” Kathy pouted. “Gin won’t even appreciate it, I bet.”

  “French?” It was too much of a coincidence. It couldn’t be him. Could it? She forced her feet to move so she could look through the small window in the swinging door that led to the dining area. Her gaze swept over the customers and then froze on the one Kathy had just described.

  Oh, good Lord, it was him! Her hand gripped the door frame, her gaze riveted on the man.

  No. It can’t be. The voice in her head echoed her shock. He’d never leave Stump River. He hates big cities.

  Right. He’d told her so on numerous occasions. Maybe her early morning musing had caused her to conjure up his image. She closed her eyes tightly. When she opened them again, he was still there.

  Armand St. John was in the very diner where she worked.

  “Lou?” Kathy sounded concerned. “You’ve gone as white as a sheet.”

  “I…I don’t feel well.” She stepped away from the door and pressed her hand to her stomach.

  “Do you need to sit down? Some cold water?”

  She licked her lips and shook her head. “I think I’m going to be sick. Gin must have been right. I have the flu. I…I need to leave.”

  “Sure. Let me help you.” Kathy guided her to where they kept their coats and purses, calling over her shoulder to the cook. “Jeff, Lou’s not feeling well and needs to go home.”

  Jeff glanced at the clock. “Okay, the lunch rush is almost over. I’ll get Gin to call Megan to come in early. We can handle things until she gets here. Feel better, Lou.”

  “Thanks.” She barely managed to get her lips to form the words. “I’ll head out the back door. I wouldn’t want to get sick where the customers might see.”

  Kathy handed Lou her purse. “Do you feel well enough to walk home? Want me to call you a cab? Or maybe I should go with you.”

  “No. Some fresh air should help. Thanks anyway.” She brushed Kathy away, eager to leave before more questions were asked. She didn’t like lying to her friends.

  Once in the back alley, she took a deep breath and immediately regretted the action as the scent of garbage filled her lungs. Gagging, she made her way to the street and headed home the long way, circling the block rather than risk passing in front of the diner. With her luck, Armand would be looking out the window and she really didn’t want him to see her.

  Chapter 5

  Armand looked around the small diner he’d entered, the irony of the name—the King’s Plate—wasn’t lost on him. It was a far cry from Ruth’s place which always appeared to have been scrubbed top to bottom. The window blinds of this place were layered with grime and dead flies lined the window ledge. At least the customers seemed healthy enough so perhaps the food was better than outward appearance would lead a person to believe.

  “Excuse me.” He stepped around a couple that were just leaving, some part of his mind noting the woman was looking him up and down, a predatory gleam appearing in her eye despite her advanced age.

  In fact, several heads turned his direction. Having lived in Stump River for so long, he’d forgotten the effect his presence had. Back home, no one took notice of his size but, since arriving in Chicago, he’d been drawing attention everywhere he went, first at the airport, then in the hotel lobby and now here.

  He sat down at the first empty table, ignoring the looks of the other customers. His senses were focused on his quarry, the waitress across the room. As soon as he’d stepped inside the building, his inner bear had known she was there. Even after all this time, he clearly recalled her scent. Lucy Chalmers was alive and well in Chicago while he’d been mourning her death, caring for her grave and feeling like his heart had been ripped out!

  His bear growled its discontent and he concurred, his usually slow temper rising.

  If it hadn’t been for the other people in the diner, he’d have walked right over and confronted her. Instead, he had to be satisfied with watching her, waiting for her to turn around and see him.

  How would she react? Shock? Joy?

  Shame over her deception? His bear suggested.

  His own reaction to the news she was alive had been volatile. Lucky for her, he’d vented most of his anger on Ryne. He was calmer now, still hurt but prepared to forgive and bring her home.

  Thankfully, Ryne had known where Lucy now lived and worked, Lycan Link�
�s web seeming to reach everywhere. Armed with those basic bits of information, he’d assured the Alpha he’d deal with any other challenges on his own.

  He watched Lucy from across the room. Even after two years, her form was familiar to him. Average height, lush curves in all the right places. A scar showed on the side of her face. That was new as were the glasses she wore and the colour of her hair. It was brown rather than platinum blond. He liked it; it was natural and earthy, reminding him of the various shades found in the forest he loved to paint.

  Right now, she was clearing a table, her movements lacking the fluidity he’d often witnessed in Stump River. Was she nervous? Had one of the customers upset her? A glance at the clientele revealed most were eating or talking to their table partners. Three men at a counter looked her way occasionally; were they the problem? His hands tightened, and he spent a few minutes observing them and memorizing their individual scents in case he ever had need of tracking them down.

  “Hi! You’re new in the neighbourhood.” A waitress appeared at his table with a glass of water and a menu.

  “I’m visiting a friend.”

  “A friend? How nice.” She beamed at him. “I’ll be back with some silverware.”

  As she continued on her way, he sneezed. Something in the air was tickling his nose. Was there mold in the building? He wouldn’t be surprised. Clearing his suddenly scratchy throat, he checked to see what Lucy was doing only to realize she had disappeared while he’d been talking to the waitress. She must have entered the kitchen with the dirty dishes she’d been gathering. When she came out, he’d make sure she noticed him.

  “What can I get you?” A different waitress appeared in front of him, not nearly as friendly as the previous one. She was also speaking loudly to be heard over the noise that suddenly began to fill the room.

  He cocked his head. “Is that bowling I hear?”

  The first waitress breezed by. “Yep. Bowlerama is right next door.”

  The second waitress scowled at the first before returning her attention to him. “Bowling starts this time every day. Makes it noisy as hell in here. If you don’t like it, eat somewhere else.” She turned to leave.