Between a Wolf and a Hard Place

by Terry Spear

They practiced for another hour, and Ellie even forgot to watch for Matilda like she had earlier because she was having such a great time. They really were getting better at this.

  For the first time in her life, Ellie thought she might be able to stick to lessons and enjoy them. Only because Matilda had started teaching her and Brett was taking them with her.

  She didn’t know what to think of his great-aunt’s distress over the comment she’d made about her dad dying of pneumonia. Had her death really been foul play? Ellie wasn’t sure they could learn anything about his great-aunt’s death any other way other than what she could find out from Matilda. Brett was an investigative reporter though. Maybe they could learn the truth by digging into the past.

  Brett took Ellie’s hand and helped her from the bench, pulled her close, and started to kiss her slow and easy, building up to something hot and sexy and sizzling. Her blood was on fire as he held her face tenderly in his hands and pressed her back against the piano. A small voice warned her that Matilda could show up at any time, tsking away, but Ellie didn’t want to lose the moment. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him right back. She needed this after a day of dating other guys who didn’t make her blood heat and her senses spin out of control.

  She needed Brett, needed the closeness, the heat of his body, the warmth of his touch, the way he was caring, protective, and always so helpful. Would she dream about Robert or Cantrell tonight? She doubted it. She and Brett had chemistry that neither of the other men had with her. She wanted to cancel the other two dates. She’d already turned down a handful of men, and then the calls had halted. She was amazed at how quickly the word spread around a pack.

  Ellie assumed the word also had gone out that the Silver men had shown up at the tavern in protective pack mode, and anyone who wanted to go out with her while Brett and she still had a chance to be mates didn’t have a prayer.

  Brett was pressing his wickedly aroused body against hers now, and she knew he could smell how aroused she was too. She wanted to tell him she was ready to cancel her next two dates, but she couldn’t.

  He finally ended the kiss, pressing his forehead against hers, and sighed in a frustrated way. “I’ll walk you back to the house.”

  “No need,” she said, but he was all protective wolf, so he did anyway. With one last kiss, she said good night and watched him go, heading inside to find Meghan watching her. CJ and Laurel had already left.

  Meghan smiled, holding up a chocolate bonbon from one of the many boxes of candy. “Aunt Charity called. She said business was so brisk because of you that she wanted to know when I was going to do the same thing.”

  “If you do the same thing and we eat all the candy, we won’t fit into our wolf coats. So Aunt Charity wasn’t upset that I was seeing all these different wolves?”

  “No. She was more amused than anything because they all came together to pick out the boxes of candy, making sure no one bought a fancier box than the others. Not only that, but she assumed Brett and his Silver kin were watching the situation closely. Laurel said the guys all chaperoned you.” Meghan laughed. “I love the Silver Town wolf pack.”

  So did Ellie. She couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. “Night, Meghan. Tomorrow will be here before we know it, and we’ve got a wolf run first thing.”

  “Night, Ellie. We’ll need to run ten times daily after eating all these sweets.”

  Ellie took a hot shower, thought about how wonderful it would be if she were taking one with Brett, and finally climbed into bed. And felt the Red Hot Rush package with the prints of him under her pillow. She quickly pulled them out, settled back against her mattress, and smiled at the sexy hunk in her hands again.

  No wonder when she closed her eyes that night, all she could think of was him stripping out of his clothes, aroused and looking devilishly sexy, like a wolf hunting for a she-wolf mate.

  * * *

  “Damn it, Ellie,” Brett said, frustrated when he woke to find she wasn’t on top of him as he had dreamed. No way was this anything but dream mating, as far as he was concerned. He slipped into the shower and took a cold one. He didn’t care if she was dating anyone else. He was going to ask her to mate him. He was just trying to decide the perfect occasion to ask her. After all, he would only do this once and he had to do it just right.

  Chapter 13

  Eager to run with Brett early the next morning, Ellie was a little disappointed they wouldn’t be running alone.

  She gathered with the rest of the wolves, who had left their clothes in the lockers at the ski hut and run out into the snow in their wolf coats. At least twenty-five wolves had shown up to dedicate the trails before the ski resort opened for the season. She smiled at Brett as he headed straight for her and nuzzled her. Those around them watched. It wasn’t nosiness on the other wolves’ part, but a way of keeping up on which bachelor wolves were off-limits to others, how pack dynamics might be changing, and what it meant for the rest of the pack. Especially when Ellie had dated two other wolves so far. With the way she and Brett reacted to each other, he was showing just how much he loved being with her. She saw Robert and Cantrell, both of whom wagged their tails at her, but neither dared approach when Brett was there.

  Ellie and her sisters were well-liked and she knew the other wolves were glad she and Meghan were courting wolves in the pack. It gave the pack stability, camaraderie, and a sense of place within the pack.

  Wolves split off into smaller groups, some going on the trails, others cutting through the fresh snow and making their own trails. Even though the point was to check out the new ski trails, Brett led Ellie up an old trail, all the way to the top of one of the ridges, away from the others. He wanted her all to himself, just as she had planned to run with him alone. She was having fun watching the other wolves playing and running along the trails below, and disappearing from sight behind the pine trees, while she was on the top of the world.

  Then Brett nuzzled her, standing next to her, his body heat warming her. Up here with him like this, she felt like she was his mate, like they were pack leaders of the mountain. It felt just right.

  He led her down the back side of the mountain where no trails existed, and they ran and ran until they stopped at a flowing creek and sipped water, smiling at each other. They were alone in the woods, enjoying nature like wolves would, except that they didn’t have to worry about where to find their next meal.

  She sat down and watched the river flowing by, and he nuzzled her face. She smiled at him and nuzzled him back. He nipped at her muzzle and rolled onto his back in a playful, loving, submissive way. She rested her foreleg over his chest and licked at his chin, enjoying the moment. She wanted to return here with him another day.

  They heard rustling in the underbrush nearby, and both instantly stood, peering into the woods and searching for the source of the noise. And saw a cougar. The golden cougar soon spied them, its green eyes watchful, wary, its body ready to attack if the wolves approached him. The big cat knew it didn’t have any recourse but to move out of the territory. Even so, Brett lifted his chin and howled. And Ellie quickly followed suit.

  Several howls came in response.

  The cat slunk off into the pines, and Brett and Ellie headed up the mountain again, their hearts pounding. She knew two wolves could fight off a cougar, but the cat’s wicked claws and teeth could be dangerous.

  As soon as they came down off the mountain, Brett and Ellie went into the ski hut to shift and dress, then met outside. Others had already left to go to work. Some were still enjoying the run.

  “I hope no one else ran into the cougar,” Ellie said.

  “With all of us howling, no way. And the others will amass and chase it off if it lingers in the area.”

  She loved how the pack worked together.

  Brett and Ellie were headed for the parking area when they saw her ghost-buster cousins.

  �
��They sure are spending a lot of time in our pack’s territory,” Ellie said.

  Brett loved when she talked about the pack like that, acknowledging that she was a full member now. “They’re producing a new ghost show here. The inn isn’t the only place that is haunted. They’re doing one about the ghosts in the silver mines.”

  “As long as they don’t come looking for one at the inn.”

  They saw Stanton in his black wolf form leading his brothers toward the ski hut, but as soon as they observed Brett and Ellie, the Wernickes hesitated.

  “Come on. Let’s go.” Ellie quickly climbed into Brett’s car and waved at her cousins, and then Brett backed out of the parking lot and drove toward one of the exits.

  “You don’t think they just want to be friendly?”

  “No. I don’t believe so.”

  “You might be right.” Before Brett left the parking area, a vintage, dark-steel-gray Plymouth that looked suspiciously like the one that had hit his car caught his eye. He pulled in beside it, parked, and got out of his vehicle.

  “Don’t tell me that’s the car that hit yours.” Ellie hurried to join him.

  “It sure looks like it.” Brett walked over to the driver’s side of the car and examined the paint to see if he could find any scrapes or other damage. He didn’t see any. But the likelihood of two cars that looked so much alike being in the same vicinity at the same time was miniscule. And since the ski resort wasn’t open yet, the vehicle had to be wolf-owned.

  Brett took in several deep breaths next to the door handle. “Stanton Wernicke.” He couldn’t believe Stanton could be the hit-and-run driver when he’d acted as though he wanted to be on decent terms with the pack.

  “I was thinking the same thing. But, Brett? This car is…inhabited.”

  Brett shifted his attention from the car to Ellie. “A ghost?”

  “I feel it. A strong sense of it. I can’t see anything. I don’t always see a ghost.”

  “So you’re saying Stanton’s driving a haunted vintage Plymouth? Maybe he’s driving it to see if the car is haunted, and they’re using it for one of their TV shows.”

  “Could be. Do you see any damage on the car?” Ellie was leaning over to get a closer look.

  “No. But I smell new paint.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “I can’t believe there’s another car that looks so much like the one that hit mine.”

  “I agree, and I believe the fresh paint smell confirms it. I guess you’ll want to wait for them and talk to Stanton,” Ellie said.

  “Yeah. If you don’t mind.”

  “No. You need to learn if he did hit you and make him pay for the damages.”

  Brett pulled Ellie in for a hug. “You know we’re going to have to do something about this…thing between us.”

  “I feel that ‘thing’ between us growing.”

  He laughed and kissed Ellie’s cold nose. “That too.” He saw Vernon Wernicke headed for the brothers’ blue van. Stanton and Yolan continued on their way to the vintage car, the brothers’ brows raised in question to see Ellie and Brett standing beside the vehicle.

  “Can we help you with something?” Stanton was being congenial but wary.

  “The blizzard was really something the other day, wasn’t it?” Brett asked.

  “Yeah. I’m surprised the ski resort isn’t open already.”

  Brett leaned against the Plymouth. “It’s opening tomorrow. Did you see anything unusual when you were driving to Green Valley from Silver Town during the blizzard?”

  Yolan cleared his throat as if he wanted to say something, but since Stanton was the one in charge of his brothers, Yolan didn’t venture a comment. Vernon pulled the van up on the other side of the Plymouth and got out.

  “Got something to say, Yolan?” Brett asked.

  CJ and Peter headed their way across the snowy parking lot, their boots crunching in the partially frozen top layer of snow.

  “What are you suggesting?” Stanton folded his arms across his chest.

  “You sideswiped Brett’s car the night of the blizzard, forcing him off the road.” Ellie sounded highly irritated, her face red with annoyance.

  Before Stanton could say anything, Peter motioned to the vintage Plymouth and asked Brett, “Is that the one that hit you?”

  “Well, Stanton? You want to make amends with the pack. You want to be accepted whenever you come through our territory. So what happened the other night?” Brett asked.

  “Hell, none of you would believe me.” Stanton glanced at Ellie as if thinking she might be the exception.

  “Okay, so what happened? You hit Brett’s car and were afraid you’d lose control and continued on your way? Your actions still constitute a hit-and-run, you know,” Peter said.

  “And you caused Brett’s car to land in the ditch, leaving him stranded. What if he had been injured?” CJ asked, his voice terse.

  Yolan finally found his tongue. “It was the ghost.”

  “What ghost?” CJ still sounded highly irritated, a pair of cuffs now dangling from his hand.

  “The one we’re doing a new show about.” Stanton frowned at Ellie. “You sense it, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, but the ghost wasn’t driving the car. You were,” Ellie said.

  “The entity took control of the car. Yolan and Vernon can verify that it did. One minute I was driving, and the next, I wasn’t. I was trying to move the car over to my side of the road. Visibility was low, but I saw the car’s headlights approaching. I couldn’t turn the wheel, no matter how much I tried. I managed to slow down, but I couldn’t stop it. I had no control over the brakes. I told my brothers at the time that I couldn’t avoid the oncoming car.”

  “He did. He’s telling the truth,” Yolan said. “We were hollering at him to pull over, in case he didn’t see the car. He yelled back at us that he was trying, but that the ghost was pulling the steering wheel the other way. I think we would have had a head-on collision if Stanton hadn’t been trying so hard to turn the wheel in the other direction. As to the brakes, we had the car checked out when we took it to the shop—”

  “For a new paint job?” Brett asked.

  “Uh, well, yeah. We have to return it to the owner in pristine condition, but we’re still driving it to verify what’s going on for the show,” Yolan said. “The only time the ghost—Shorty Bill Smith, the owner of the vehicle originally—takes over is when the road is covered with snow, or when it’s snowing. We had to see if we could document his presence during the blizzard. Stanton had driven the car several times on clear roads, no hint of snow before this, and nothing happened. The current owner, Shorty’s grandson, insists the car is haunted during the winter months, and he wants us to do something about it besides use it in our show. He wants us to get rid of the entity.”

  “During a blizzard,” Brett said incredulously. “You could have destroyed the car and killed yourselves or me in the process.”

  “We didn’t,” Stanton said, sounding defensive. “Shorty wouldn’t let me stop to see if you were okay, though I didn’t know who you were. We tried to call the sheriff’s department to let Peter know that someone was in the ditch, but we couldn’t get any reception. If you tried to call on your cell phone, you probably learned the same thing and know that we’re telling the truth.”

  “About the cell reception, yes. I couldn’t reach anyone out there. About the ghost?” Brett raised his brows.

  “Yeah. Yolan tried to exorcise it because we were afraid Shorty was going to try to kill us for driving his car,” Stanton said. “Hey, you write for a newspaper. You could do an article about this since you were a firsthand witness.”

  “Oh, I’m sure your producer would love to hear you caused a hit-and-run accident, leaving a man stranded out in the blizzard, someone who could have died if three sisters hadn’t come to his rescue.�
� Ellie smiled evilly. “Yeah, maybe Brett should write that story.”

  Brett smiled at her.

  “On second thought, maybe not,” Stanton said.

  “Why would anyone take a classic car out in the winter though? Most car owners in snowy climates like ours put their cars in storage,” CJ said.

  “The problem is the engine revs up and the horn blasts with one of those ahh-woo-gah sounds, disturbing the grandson and his family in the middle of the night, but only once it begins to snow. It’s like clockwork. The owner removes the battery to winterize the car,” Stanton said. “So even if someone were trying to play a prank on the grandson, the prankster would have to bring his own battery with him.”

  Brett nodded, conceding that it sounded plausible, if any of this could be.

  “You’re under arrest for a hit-and-run, Stanton Wernicke,” Peter said, and CJ placed the handcuffs on him.

  “Wait. I’m telling you the truth. Why would I be driving the old Plymouth if we hadn’t suspected it was haunted? Call the producer. He’ll tell you we’re investigating this.” Stanton rattled his bracelets. “You don’t need these anyway. I’m going with you. Just call them.”

  “You were at the wheel. You didn’t report a hit-and-run accident any time after the accident, not even when you were closer to town and could get reception. We could have searched for the driver of the other vehicle and made sure he or she was okay.” Peter pulled Stanton toward the sheriff’s car.

  “Call my lawyer,” Stanton told his brothers. “Right now.”

  Vernon got on his cell phone while Peter escorted Stanton the rest of the way to his car. “I thought you were working on a story about the silver mine ghosts.”

  “We were, until we got sidetracked with this project. The guy was begging us to take his case,” Stanton said.

  Yolan motioned to Stanton. “He was telling the truth.”

  “It doesn’t excuse him from not reporting the accident as soon after as he could have.” CJ glanced at the damage done to Brett’s car.

  Ellie shook her head. “If the car isn’t safe to drive, you shouldn’t be taking it on the road.”