Bertha added, “Darien called and said you’re moving her to his house.”
“He just told me,” Tom said, not wanting to get into it with Elizabeth again.
“I don’t need to leave here,” Elizabeth protested. Again. She’d tried to talk him out of it on the short drive from the tavern to the inn.
In a consoling voice, Bertha said, “Darien told me you might have had a run-in with someone who could be more trouble, and he doesn’t want to take any chances with you staying here since my husband is out of town. Not only that, but Doc Weber insisted Tom stay the night with you. You know, to… monitor you condition.” Elizabeth could have sworn Bertha cast Tom a fleeting, conspiratorial look.
“That’s not necessary. I’ll be all right here. Alone,” Elizabeth said.
“All right. Come on,” Tom said. “We’ll proceed as planned. You can rest in your room. I’ll apply ice packs for a while. I’ll call Darien and tell him I’ll bring you out there for dinner.” He wouldn’t get into the issue of tonight right now. He knew Darien wouldn’t agree with him about not leaving right away, but Tom really wanted to please Elizabeth.
That was a first—going against his brother’s orders to satisfy a woman.
“I really don’t need to stay there after dinner. We can eat and—”
“Pack leader’s orders.” Tom smiled when he said it, but he was serious as he preceded her to her guest room. He would allow her to rest here, but after that, they would stay at Darien’s. As he hesitated at her bedroom door, he felt a cold breeze seeping from beneath it. He glanced down at the carpeted floor and took a deep breath of the winter-chilled outdoor air. Instantly, he had a bad feeling about this.
Before he opened the door, he said, “Window’s open. Did you leave it ajar?”
Elizabeth frowned at him. “In this weather? No.”
Senses on high alert, Tom listened for any movement in the room and tried to discern anyone’s scent, but he didn’t smell anything other than Bertha’s and Elizabeth’s feminine scents. “Go back and stay with Bertha, if you don’t mind. Ask her if she opened the window.”
Elizabeth made an irritated huff under her breath but retreated down the hall toward the kitchen. “Did you open the window in my room?”
“And lose all the heat in there? I should say not,” Bertha said. “What’s the matter?”
“The window appears to be ajar,” Elizabeth said.
Tom shoved the door open and stared at the broken glass that littered the carpeted floor next to the window and covered one corner of a bedside table. Otherwise, the room seemed untouched.
“Hell,” he said under his breath. As he entered the room, he yanked his cell out of his pocket and called Darien.
“What’s happened, Tom?” Elizabeth called from the hallway.
Tom peered out the window. Two men’s boots left tracks in the fresh powder. “Darien, we’ve got more trouble.”
He heard footsteps and turned to see Elizabeth staring at the room. “I hadn’t unpacked my bags. While we were gone, the airport was supposed to deliver them.” Immediately, she went to the closet and opened the door. “My bags aren’t here.”
“What’s going on, Tom?” Darien asked.
“Elizabeth’s room at the B and B was broken into. We’re checking to see if they stole anything.”
“Bertha? Did the airport deliver my suitcases?” Elizabeth called out.
“Yes, dear. I rolled them into your room when they arrived.”
“Whoever broke in took her bags,” Tom relayed to Darien, studying Elizabeth. She looked so pale, her eyes tearing up, and he felt terrible for her. Talk about one hell of a horrible vacation. Or… business trip. He wanted in the worst way to make it up to her.
Elizabeth pulled open a drawer and found it empty. She got a wide-eyed look of panic and quickly reached into the breast pocket of her jacket, then took a shaky breath of relief and zipped her jacket back up. Tom looked at her quizzically, but she only gestured back at the drawer and said, “I—I’d left a few things here from my carry-on that I didn’t want to take up to the slopes. Plane ticket receipts, driver’s license. My laptop’s gone.” Her lips quivered and she looked on the verge of bursting into tears.
“I’ll call you right back, Darien,” Tom said quickly, the sight of Elizabeth’s distress making him feel like he’d been punched in the gut. He ended the call and took her gently in his arms, trying to avoid hurting her.
She said through her tears, “I don’t cry over just anything.”
He didn’t know what to say to make her feel better. Not wanting her to think that he saw her tears as a weakness, he leaned down, took her face in his, and very lightly kissed her mouth.
He hadn’t planned to. But he wanted to stop her crying. No, that wasn’t it at all. He’d wanted to kiss her again since the moment he’d done so on the slope. And before that. When he’d laid eyes on her in Bertha’s kitchen, the cinnamon sugar sparkling on her lips. He’d wanted to lick off the spicy granules, taste the sweetness in her mouth, and feel that soft and curvy body pulled up tight against him.
He separated his lips from hers, expecting her to be horrified or shocked but certainly not smiling.
“To stop the tears,” he said, clearing his throat and apologizing, although he wanted to kiss her again. More. Deeper. Longer. Like at the ski resort.
“I… think they’re coming on again,” she said very softly but sincerely, looking up at him from beneath her dewy lashes, her expression both wickedly appealing and sweet.
He chuckled and kissed her again. His kiss was tempered with tenderness, meant only to soothe her for what had happened. Not that he didn’t want more. Kissing her led to stronger passion, desire, and need. None of which he could fulfill.
She seemed needy, the way she clung to his waist, pressed against him, and sought more. He wanted to give her the affection she seemed so desperate to have. She soaked it up, matching his pacing, her lips parting, her tongue flicking across his mouth, and she seemed to love his kisses. But she also stiffened her arm, as if fighting the pain in her wrist, and he had to stop.
“Elizabeth,” he said, caressing her soft, wet cheeks. “We should go.”
“Yeah.” She sounded reluctant but acquiescent, the fight knocked out of her.
He led her down the hall toward the living room.
“It’s okay, dear,” Bertha said, looking like a sympathetic momma wolf as Elizabeth wiped her eyes.
Tom called his brother back, his hand resting on Elizabeth’s shoulder, wanting the contact to reassure her. “I’m bringing her up to the house.”
“I called Trevor and Peter to investigate the B and B. They’re on their way.”
“All right, Darien. Anything else you want me to do before we leave?”
“No, just bring her over. Carol arrived with Ryan to have dinner with us. She’ll provide some nursing care until we eat dinner, if Elizabeth needs it.”
“Thanks, Darien.” Tom ended the call and said to Bertha, “Trevor and Peter will be here shortly to investigate the break-in. Did you hear anything at all?”
“All my guests were at the slopes. I ran to the grocery store for fresh eggs, fruit, and milk for tomorrow’s breakfast, so they must have done it when I was out.”
“Is that a regular routine for you?” Tom asked.
“No.”
“Then someone must have been watching the B and B,” Elizabeth said.
“Why would someone target you?” Tom asked.
Elizabeth looked away from him. “My ID was in that drawer. I can’t fly home without it.”
She had purposely avoided answering his question, but she was under enough stress already so he didn’t press her. For now.
“We can take care of that for you when the time comes. We’re headed to Darien’s house,” Tom said, but he wasn’t leav
ing until Trevor or Peter arrived to ensure Bertha wasn’t at risk if the burglar or burglars returned. He peered out the picture window. “Deputy Trevor Osgood is pulling up now.”
Trevor was dark-haired, his brown eyes nearly black, his khaki police uniform perfectly pressed with a jacket hanging open over it. His Stetson shaded his eyes, giving him an even darker-tempered appearance. “What the hell’s going on now?” he asked Tom as he and Elizabeth emerged from the B and B. Trevor nodded in Elizabeth’s direction in greeting.
After helping Elizabeth into his truck, Tom gave Trevor a sketchy explanation of the situation. Peter could fill him in on the ski accident; Tom wanted to get Elizabeth settled at Darien’s place pronto.
“All right,” Trevor said. “I’ll do some preliminary investigating until Peter arrives.”
“Let us know if you discover anything important,” Tom said.
“I will.” Trevor headed for the B and B.
Tom drove them out of Silver Town to Darien and Lelandi’s home in the country. Tom still lived there, but because of Darien and Lelandi’s babies growing into toddlers, he planned to buy a place of his own this spring. He enjoyed helping with the toddlers so he hadn’t bothered looking before this, but Darien and Lelandi would need the additional room as the toddlers grew bigger.
“Did you have anything really important on your laptop? Finances?” Tom asked.
“It’s locked with a password. But if they’re hackers, I suppose they can get into it. No financial documents on it. Just some photos and news articles I’ve written. All are backed up in emails.”
“Good.” Tom couldn’t quit thinking of a million different scenarios. “Were you followed at the ski resort? Did you feel the men had been stalking you before they attacked you?”
He was certain now that the man who had shoved her had something to do with this. And her fall had been no accident. All this trouble for one woman in one day couldn’t be a coincidence.
“No. I don’t believe so. It all seemed to start when I got on the ski lift with the man. He glowered at me, acting as though he wanted me to turn away like a beta would. I wouldn’t. So I said, ‘Hi’ and asked him if he was from around here. Then he turned away, and that was that.”
“Was he a wolf?”
“I couldn’t smell him. The way the wind was blowing, he could smell me.”
“You thought you got pictures of both men?”
“Yes.”
“Maybe that’s why they targeted you.”
Elizabeth was silent for a moment.
“I didn’t smell the men who entered my room at the B and B, either. Did you?” she asked.
“No. No human smell, no wolf smell.” And that concerned Tom. What if these were the same strangers who’d stalked the farmers’ livestock, and they were now targeting guests in town? Or just one special guest. But why?
Chapter 10
While Tom drove them to Darien’s home, Elizabeth pulled her phone out of her backpack to call North. She had to tell him she wouldn’t be at Bertha’s B and B tonight. She paused. What if somehow North’s knowing where she stayed was the reason the burglars had broken into her room? What if they had seen her leave the B and B with Tom and had followed her to the resort?
What if they were working for her uncle?
She chewed on her lip. She hated all this second-guessing.
She called North’s number, and he picked up.
“Call you back later,” North said abruptly, then hung up on her.
She stared at the phone. The break-in might not have anything to do with North, but she sure didn’t like him not taking her call. Was her Uncle Quinton visiting North? Questioning him about her?
“Anything wrong?” Tom asked.
“Um, no.” She had told the truth. There might be nothing wrong. She shoved her phone back into her pack. At least she hoped that was the truth. She didn’t want Tom and his pack involved in this business with her and the red pack.
When they arrived at Darien and Lelandi’s two-story log home, Elizabeth guessed it had to be about ten thousand square feet, large enough to accommodate pack gatherings. Smoke curled from two chimneys. Snow piled on the windowsills and icicles dripping off the roof made the house look like a warm place to spend the winter season.
An unwanted feeling of sadness slid through her as she thought about not having a pack to belong to or someone to watch her back as she watched his or hers. She quickly quashed that notion. She’d been perfectly happy and much safer since she’d hightailed it out of the southeastern part of Colorado and settled in Texas.
Tom escorted her into the house, stopping only to remove the parka draped over her shoulders, and then led her into the living room where he introduced Lelandi. All smiles, she greeted Elizabeth, her hand outstretched. She was gentle, as if she was afraid Elizabeth would break. Elizabeth smelled that Lelandi was a red wolf who didn’t seem to have any animosity for her, despite the fact that Elizabeth was part coyote. That open-mindedness was so foreign to Elizabeth that she couldn’t fathom it.
Her red hair secured in a bun, Lelandi had on the professional navy-blue business jacket and skirt she wore for seeing her psychology clients. Her eyes were clear green, unlike Elizabeth’s more blue-green, but the two women looked similar in terms of height and hair color. Elizabeth was finer boned, probably due to her coyote ancestry.
“You really didn’t have to go to all of this trouble for me,” Elizabeth said, feeling more like an intruder in the family business than anything.
“Nonsense. Usual fare. Think nothing of it. We’re delighted to have you stay with us.”
The welcome was in Lelandi’s voice, though Elizabeth also heard something else—a pack leader’s declaration: You will stay with us for your protection. Elizabeth was used to being independent and on her own, so she wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
The whole home was warm and welcoming, with soft velour couches and chairs, pale yellow painted walls, and a massive stone fireplace where a fire crackled and red-orange flames spiraled upward. An extra cushiony beige carpet was underfoot, and dark, polished wood beams crisscrossed a high ceiling.
But something more than its physical appearance made the home inviting.
Elizabeth could sense the feel of family here, unlike in her own home. She felt safe there from her pack, but she realized there was something to be said for having a family. Her home was isolated, singular, and if she admitted it to herself, lonely.
A blue-eyed blonde came out of another room and greeted her, smiling broadly and with her hand extended. Another red wolf. Elizabeth was astounded to see two of them here. Maybe red she-wolves, in particular, appealed to this group of grays, she thought.
“I’m Carol McKinley, a nurse. I’ve been told you’ve had a rough time of it, so if you’re ready, I’ll take you up to your room. You can lie down for a bit until we eat dinner.”
Lelandi smiled. “We’ll see you a little later. Get some rest, Elizabeth.”
Again, the pack leader had decided. Not that Elizabeth didn’t appreciate the “offer.” She was all too glad to lie down for a while.
“Thanks.” Elizabeth glanced at Tom. He dipped his head, letting her know he approved of the idea.
She didn’t really need his approval, but she wanted him to know she cared about his feelings. When did that get to be an issue?
He ran his hand over her shoulder in a tender caress. “Feel better,” he said emphatically, his gaze on hers.
“I’ll be a hundred percent before you know it.”
He smiled a little at that, and she wasn’t sure if he thought she was joking. “I will,” she insisted, then headed for the stairs with Carol.
“You will,” Carol said, repeating Elizabeth’s words like a mantra. “Half the fight is taking a positive stance.”
“The other half is having genetics th
at help us to heal faster,” Elizabeth said.
Carol laughed as they climbed the stairs. “I have to admit that’s the thing I love best about being a wolf. I’m a red wolf, too. Newly turned.”
“Oh.” She wondered if Carol wasn’t used to everyone knowing what everyone was just by smell. She didn’t know what to say to Carol about having been turned, since Elizabeth herself had turned a human—and that had worked out very badly. Taking her mind off that scenario, she tried to look at the photographs of mountain wildflowers hanging on the walls.
She didn’t know all the flowers’ names, but some were lavender-colored, growing at the base of an alpine grove, and others were pink. She did recognize the purple thistle and golden dandelions. “Did Jake take these?” Elizabeth asked.
“He sure did. Beautiful, aren’t they?”
“They are.” Maybe Elizabeth could interview him for her newspaper, even if the story was really about a wolf. One hazard of working for the paper was always trying to come up with human-interest stories.
Carol led Elizabeth to a bedroom and motioned to it. “This is your guest room while you stay here. I used it until I mated with Ryan. His full name is Chester Ryan McKinley, and he’s the pack leader in Green Valley. I’m sure you’re probably sore from your fall. Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll apply some ice.”
“Okay,” Elizabeth said, sitting on the mattress.
Antique tables sat on either side of the queen-sized bed, the comforter satiny gold with embroidered designs of gold and moss green. An antique armoire stood in one corner and a small dresser against one wall, making the room appear rich, elegant, and out of the past. Elizabeth liked it. Nothing of hers was older than a couple of years, and the antique furniture appealed to her. She’d had to move so often that she hadn’t been able to keep any of her older treasured possessions.
Lelandi came into the room carrying a pair of jeans and white socks. “Thought you might like to get out of your ski pants for now.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth said.
“I’ll leave you to nap,” Lelandi said and hurried out of the room.