by Anna Lowe
He forced himself to look to the horizon. This was just the kick in the ass he needed to get moving. He’d dallied far too long, right?
Mate, his wolf sniffed, clawing him inside.
Yeah, his mate. The one who didn’t trust him enough to see through a lie. The one who was better off without him, because what could he really offer but a broken past?
The truck bounced over a rut, kicking up a plume of dust. He was driving too fast for that dirt road, but it felt good to break one little rule. He forced his chin to stay high, but every inch of ground he covered during the drive to the highway took something out of him. What if he never succeeded? What if he never found a pack to contribute to?
The smooth asphalt of the highway did nothing for his mood. Neither did the knowledge that he was finally on his way to North Ridge. There wasn’t much to look forward to any more. Nothing left of his vague hopes and dreams.
He dug his fingernails into the worn vinyl of the steering wheel, then forced himself to grab the one piece of food he had — an old apple, not entirely fit to eat — and munched it down, ordering himself not to imagine how nice a breakfast with Carly might have been. When he got down to the core, he tossed the apple out the window onto the scrubby median between the north and southbound lanes of the highway — and promptly did a double take. Was that an open gate that he had just sped past?
He craned his neck to see. That was Twin Moon Ranch property, and those wolves were fastidious about protecting their land.
The gate was already behind him, so he drove on. He had no obligation to that pack. Let their cattle wander away. Let some poachers sneak in. What did he care?
A mile later, he slowed and pulled over to the shoulder, looking straight ahead.
North. North was where he had to go. But south pulled at him like a magnet, telling him he had to check that gate.
He scowled at the dashboard. That magnet was probably Carly.
An eighteen-wheeler roared by, shaking his pickup with its draft. Just hit the road, it said. Doing the right thing has gotten you nowhere.
He spat out the open window and tapped his fingers on the gearshift. Then he glanced at the mirror.
“Screw it,” he murmured, hitting the indicator for a turn. The second the highway was clear, he pulled across both northbound lanes to the south side and accelerated back the way he’d come.
Even if the Twin Moon wolves never found out he’d done them a good deed, it didn’t matter. He would know. And it would only take a second, right?
For some inexplicable reason, his pulse rose as he approached the gate. Why, he didn’t know. It was just one gate. No big deal, right?
He pulled over and stared at it for a full minute.
His wolf snorted inside. Forget it. Just close the gate and get going again.
He slid out of the cab and looked down the dirt track leading into the scrub. The gate creaked slightly in the breeze. All he had to do was push it closed and…
A scent caught in his nostrils. The scent of wolf shifter. He sniffed. One second, it was there, and the next, it was gone.
Probably nothing, his wolf decided. Probably a whiff of one of the guards.
He studied the ground, then knelt. One softer patch of ground held several zigzag tracks. Motorcycle tracks.
He glanced up. Some ranchers used motorcycles to get around, but other than Carly’s, he’d only seen one bike on the ranch — Zack’s vintage Harley. And these tracks didn’t match either Carly’s or Zack’s tires. The ranch hands all used beat-up pickups or four-wheel ATVs. So what was with the multiple motorcycle tracks overlaid by the treads of a lightweight pickup?
Not your problem, the dark voice said.
Could mean trouble, his wolf said.
He got back in his vehicle and looked at the sky for a full minute. Then he eased the pickup into gear — forward, not reverse — and headed down the dirt lane.
Chapter Fourteen
Carly power-walked all the way to the stables, looking straight ahead. Gravel crunched under her feet, and she barely acknowledged the voices that greeted her until Aunt Jean came along.
“Good morning, sweetheart. You getting ready for the field trip?”
The field trip. She’d really been looking forward to it but, shit. Here she was, about to miss part of it. Because of Luke. Because of her own stupidity.
“I’ll catch up later,” she said, and damn it, her voice was as scratchy and raw as her emotions.
The field trip was the only reason she’d torn herself from Luke’s side so early that morning. She was responsible for the treasure hunt, and she hadn’t had time to get anything ready, what with the excitement of the aqueduct accident and what happened afterward.
She snorted to herself. Excitement. Right.
She’d even been kidding herself that Luke was worth rethinking her no-mate policy — to the point that she’d hustled right back to him as quickly as she could with a steaming mug of coffee she was sure he’d appreciate. But what had the bastard been doing while she was gone?
She picked up her pace, heading uphill.
“Sweetheart, wait.”
Anybody else, Carly would have brushed off. But Aunt Jean was special. Different. A surrogate mother to half the wolves on the ranch, and the former schoolteacher in the one-room schoolhouse Carly always wished she’d been able to attend like all her siblings had.
“Are you all right?”
“Sure.” Carly scowled. “Great.”
Maybe she ought to feel great, because up until the point she’d seen Audrey with Luke, she’d been harboring all kinds of delusions, like how nice it would be to have a mate. Someone to lean on when she needed it. Someone to wake up with. Someone to share good and bad with.
“I saw what happened,” Aunt Jean said gently.
Carly stopped and looked at her feet. What did Aunt Jean mean? Had she seen Luke welcome Audrey in? Luke pretending to be innocent? Had she seen the coffee drain slowly into the dirt when Carly realized what was going on?
Carly started walking again. “Look, can you tell Heather I’ll catch up with the group at the creek crossing? I’ll be there in time for the treasure hunt. Right now, I need to clear my head.”
And her heart, too. There were way too many false hopes and dreams in there.
“Carly, wait.” Aunt Jean’s voice was soft but commanding at the same time.
Carly stopped but didn’t turn around.
“Some things are not what they seem.”
“That’s for sure,” Carly grumbled, remembering the way Luke had looked at her the night before. So softly, so sincerely.
“Carly,” Aunt Jean said in a flat tone that said, be reasonable.
She didn’t want to be reasonable. She wanted to be mad. Furious. At Luke and at herself.
Aunt Jean let a long, awkward pause settle in, putting the onus on Carly to speak.
“He’s just like my father,” Carly said, finally giving in.
Her father had deceived one woman after another, leading each on before dumping her for someone else. Refusing to settle down — ever.
“He’s nothing like your father. And you’re nothing like your mother,” Aunt Jean said.
Carly wiggled her jaw from side to side. She sure hoped she was nothing like her mother. But what if she made the same mistakes?
“Your father needed a strong woman. He never found her,” Aunt Jean said sadly.
Carly kicked the ground.
“And you…” Aunt Jean started, then trailed off.
Carly looked up sharply. Me, what?
“Did you ever consider how much you’re like your father?” Aunt Jean said with no sharpness in her voice whatsoever. “In all the good ways — and the bad.”
What was that supposed to mean?
“You’re just as stubborn and just as strong,” Jean went on. “People look up to you. They follow your lead…”
Carly studied her toes. They did, but she’d never really stepped up to take
any responsibility, had she?
“You’ve broken more than one heart in your time…”
Carly’s jaw swung open as she stared at Aunt Jean. “I have not—”
“No?” Jean said so quietly, Carly had to pause and think.
So she’d played around with a lot of men. That didn’t mean she’d taken them seriously or led them on.
But… But… She wanted to protest as a whole parade of ex-lovers filed through her mind, their shoulders drooping, their faces drawn.
Shit. She’d always seen those hurried good-byes from her own point of view. She’d never stopped to consider theirs.
“I have the feeling you’re like your father in another way, too,” Aunt Jean said.
Carly crossed her arms but couldn’t resist the bait. “How?”
“He does perfectly well on his own, but he’d be better with a mate. Someone to even him out.”
“Maybe I don’t want to be evened out. Especially not with a lying son of a—”
Jean’s strict look cut her off there. “What did you see?”
Carly rolled her eyes. “More than I needed to.”
“What did you see?” Aunt Jean repeated in her stern, teacher voice.
“I saw Audrey leaving the guest house, half dressed.”
Jean sighed. “Sweetie, when is Audrey ever properly dressed?”
Carly made a face. Okay, Jean had a point there. Audrey’s man-eater dressing habits rarely left much to the imagination. But that wasn’t the point. The point was that Luke had run out with Audrey when both were barely dressed. She’d seen Luke…
Her thoughts slowed down there. She’d seen Luke, looking like he’d just had a near-miss with a truck. A truck named Audrey, who had a knack for finagling her way into men’s beds.
“What exactly did you see?” Jean whispered.
Carly chewed her lip. She’d seen Luke’s eyes light up when they met her own, as if his day had only truly started then. She’d practically seen his inner wolf sit up and wag its tail, trying to make a good impression. She’d seen…
Crap. She’d seen the hurt in his eyes when she’d rejected him.
A hawk cried in the early morning silence, and a jackrabbit scurried past, dodging prickly pears. The last whiff of night-scented flower wafted through the air. A horse nickered in the distance, and Carly’s head jerked up.
“I need to clear my head…” she mumbled, heading uphill again. A good, hard ride on a half-wild mustang, that’s what she needed.
“Carly,” Aunt Jean called.
This time, Carly didn’t stop. She stomped right up the hill to the stables, grabbed a bridle and a handful of oats, and headed for the farthest paddock on the right. The one where a black horse kicked and snorted, daring anyone to come close.
“Come on, Diablo,” she called, showing him the oats. “You know you want this.”
Her voice still had an edge to it, though, and the stallion shied away.
“Come on, baby,” she murmured, showing him the oats. Vowing that if the horse didn’t come over in the next two minutes, she’d gallop off into the hills on her own two feet. Maybe on four, because shifting into wolf form had a certain appeal, too.
Scratch that, she decided. Her wolf was just as likely to chase after Luke as to head to the hills, and there was no way she was doing that.
“Come on, Diablo…”
Finally, it worked. She slipped the bridle over the black stallion’s head as he mopped up the oats in her hand. When she opened the gate and led him out, his ears immediately perked.
Yeah, she knew that feeling. The need to escape. For freedom — real freedom. From her family, from commitments…even from herself.
With one quick jump, she mounted the stallion’s bare back and touched his flanks with her heels. He shot off like a rocket, and she immediately squealed.
“Yes!”
The excitement — the thrill — drew her in, like it always did. Her own personal drug against loneliness and regret.
You promised no regrets, her wolf whispered inside.
She leaned low over Diablo’s neck, trying not to think about it. She’d seen the look on Cody’s face. Her brothers had probably already booted Luke off the ranch by now. Good-bye and good riddance, right?
The coarse hairs of Diablo’s mane whipped her face as her own hair streamed out behind her. She squeezed her knees as the horse thundered over the uneven terrain, heading for the hills. She gave him his head, not caring where he took her as long as it was away.
She ducked a low-hanging branch and hung on when Diablo skittered sideways at the sight of a snake slithering into the bushes.
“Hup,” she urged him on. “Hup.”
Her mother would have a heart attack, seeing her on that barely tamed mustang, but Carly just grinned into the wind. Even if she fell, she’d heal. She was a shifter, after all.
Shifter healing won’t fix a broken heart, her wolf cried inside.
She banished the thought — all thought — and concentrated on the thrill, the high she got from living this close to the edge.
She and Diablo were both panting by the time they reached the midpoint of the mesa, where the winding trail stopped on a wide step in the slope. On one side, a sheer cliff fell away to the valley below, and on the other, the mesa sloped sharply upward. Diablo paused at a cliff’s edge, his flanks heaving, nostrils flaring. She patted his shoulder and looked out over the view.
Twin Moon Ranch. Home, but not home.
She shook her head, considering. Maybe she could find another pack to join. Someplace like this, but a little different. Someplace she could get a fresh start on her own terms. Without her mother. Without that ass, Craig. And without that other ass, Luke.
How about North Ridge? Her wolf wagged its tail.
She loved Colorado, and her father had always encouraged her to help him with that pack, but if Luke was headed there…no way.
She scanned the vast landscape. Somewhere out there had to be a place for her.
“Nice view, eh?” an edgy voice murmured from behind.
She whipped her head around exactly at the same moment that Diablo reared and spun.
“Whoa,” she yelped, grabbing at the horse’s mane.
Too late. She was already sliding backward, headed for an ignoble dismount over his tail. She landed on her feet — barely — and stumbled.
Diablo whinnied furiously, flashed his hooves at whoever it was that had spooked them, and thundered away.
“Diablo!” she yelled, running after him.
Three steps later, she pulled up and stiffened at the laughter coming from behind her. She whirled, clenching her fists. Who the hell had the nerve to—
She froze and her jaw dropped. “Craig?”
What the hell was Craig doing here?
“Miss me?” He grinned.
“No,” she shot back. She hadn’t missed that cocky grin, those greedy, arrogant eyes, or the overwhelming smell of hair gel. She hadn’t missed the egotistical bastard one bit.
“What the hell are you doing on pack property?” she demanded, silently counting the men behind him. Five…six…seven.
Craig made a show of looking around, unimpressed. “Oh, is this pack property? So sorry. Someone must have left a gate open.”
She frowned. No one ever left gates open at Twin Moon Ranch. And the patrols were usually fastidious about keeping outsiders away.
But, shit. Ty had sent some of their best guards to Colorado to assist her father in case rogues threatened a violent takeover.
She squinted at the other men. Wait a minute. Had Craig banded together with rogues?
One man leered openly. Another looked her slowly up and down. A third whispered something to the man at his side, who grinned. That one was missing a tooth, and the others wore worn, dusty jeans. A few, though, were slicker and more polished, like Craig. Which meant Craig had taken his handful of supporters and formed an alliance with a gang of rogues. Why?
“Y
ou’re keeping good company these days,” she sneered.
Craig waved his hand, unconcerned. “Gotta be flexible when you’ve got big plans.”
“Big plans?”
His grin became a scowl. “Sure. A man’s gotta move up in the world. Gotta find my own pack. I had a good lead, too, on a pack in Colorado.”
North Ridge. She knew it from the shine in Craig’s eyes.
“But surprise, surprise. Someone tipped off that pack that we were coming, so I couldn’t execute my plan.”
“A plan to take over the pack my father runs?”
He shrugged. “You were the one who messed up Plan A.”
Plan A, she realized, was for her to mate to Craig, making him a shoo-in as future alpha of Arroyo Hills or North Ridge pack. An alpha she knew would be no better than Greer, who had only ruled for his own gain.
“And you, apparently, fucked up Plan B,” she shot back.
Craig scowled. “Wanna guess what Plan C is?”
She put her hands on her hips. “Slink off into the sunset like your sorry ass deserves?”
A distant rattle sounded from the valley below, and voices carried on the wind, too far to be distinct but audible all the same.
She looked down and saw a wagon and a couple of pack horses that could have passed for a scene from pioneer days. But those were no pioneers. Those were the kids of Twin Moon Ranch.
“Plan C,” Craig murmured, nodding at the view.
Carly’s blood ran cold.
“You wouldn’t,” she hissed, picturing Craig and the rogues swooping down on the kids. By the time help arrived…
“Now, why wouldn’t I?” Craig scowled. “This pack ruined my plans.” He looked right at her. “You ruined my plans. Of course…” He trailed off and grinned, raising his eyebrows at her.
The seven rogues around them stepped closer, boxing her in.
“Of course, what?” she spat, trying to reach Stef or Heather in her mind.
Stef! Heather! Get the kids back to the ranch! Call for help!
Both those women were tough warriors in their own right, but they couldn’t possibly defend so many kids from a gang like this.