The Keeping

  Saving the file, she connected to the internet, thinking she’d pass some time there learning more about Lycanthropy, having recalled that Ryne had a book on the subject. Soon she was immersed in the subject, still finding it hard to believe anyone would spend so much free time creating a mythical world inhabited by people who turned into animals. It was utterly ridiculous, but still fascinating, fiction. There were even sites that you had to apply to, complete with proof you were a werewolf, before they’d allow you access to the data in certain sections.

  Mel shook her head as she examined the application form. They wanted your family tree so they could prove your blood line—as if! Still, it was a cute gimmick. She wondered if anyone ever actually applied and what would happen as a result. On a whim, she decided to fill one out. If nothing else, it would give the webmaster a chuckle that someone had actually tried.

  She just finished pressing send, when Beth returned. She plopped down beside Mel with a happy satisfied look on her face. “Hi! How’d you make out?”

  “Just run off my feet.” Mel winked. “Did you get all your deliveries made?”

  “Yep. No problem, though I did have a few people standing by their mailboxes wondering why I was late. The delivery of the Gazette is the high point of the week, after all!” Beth laughed and then leaned forward to look at Mel’s computer screen. “Lycans? You’re interested in shape shifters?”

  “Not really. Mostly, I’m just fooling around, seeing what’s out there on the topic. I saw a book on it and thought I’d check it out. This site—Lycan Links—is the most realistic I’ve found yet. Not only does it list all these great fictional stories featuring Lycans, but there’s a ‘myths and facts’ area and FAQ.” She snorted as she pointed out the next bit. “Look here. This is where you’d go to help Lycans find jobs, immigration assistance, find physicians; you name it. Of course, I can’t access most of these areas because my application hasn’t been approved yet.”

  Beth examined the page and frowned. “You didn’t really tell them all about yourself did you?”

  Mel snorted. “No. They just wanted to know my family tree—I had to ‘prove’ I was a werewolf—but since I don’t know my father, it was pretty sparse.” When Beth raised her eyebrows, she hastened to reassure her. “And no, I don’t think I’m a werewolf. I was just curious about what would happen. You know, does anyone ever respond to this type of thing? What would the response be? It’s harmless fictional stuff.”

  Nodding, Beth still looked a bit concerned. “I suppose, there’s no harm in that… ”

  “Beth, don’t worry. They have my name, my mother’s name, when and where I was born, and my e-mail address, that’s it. No phone number, no street address, or anything else. I haven’t opened myself up to an attack by ravaging wolves or a cyber weirdo. Besides, I bet nothing will even come of it. There are tons of sites like this, created by avid fans of paranormal stories. It’s all just for fun. No one really believes in it.”

  *****

  Mel helped Beth around the paper until noon, then went for her daily walk that was fast becoming a habit. As she passed by Miller’s Service Station, she tried to see if Ryne was working. If he was, she could stop in and ask about tonight. Unfortunately, she saw no sign of him. Instead, Harley came out to greet her and she crouched down, spending some time telling him what a good boy he was, even if he did scare her the other day.

  “Yes, Harley. You scared me, yes you did. You scared me down by the river yesterday.” She baby talked to him while scratching his silky ears. He half closed his eyes, his tongue lolling out to one side, showing how pleased he was with all the attention.

  “What’s that about Harley down by the river?” A deep male voice spoke beside her and Mel looked up to see Ben Miller watching her. They hadn’t been introduced yet, so she got to her feet, stuck out her hand and went through the formalities. Once that was taken care of, she explained her comments to the dog.

  “So you see, when I looked up and saw Harley, I thought he was a wolf. It scared me and I slipped into the water.” She bent over and rubbed the dog’s chin. “But you didn’t mean to surprise me, so I forgive you, Harley.” Harley thumped his tail as if he understood what she was saying.

  Mel stood up and smiled at Ben. “I’m just glad he made it back home by himself. That’s quite a distance for him to travel.”

  Ben rubbed his neck and looked puzzled. “I don’t know exactly what you saw Ms. Greene, but it wasn’t Harley. He was with me all day yesterday. I took him to the clinic for his rabies shot and then kept him inside afterwards.”

  “You did?” Mel felt her jaw slacken. “You mean that might have been a real wolf?”

  “Could be, or a large stray dog. All I know for sure is that it wasn’t Harley.”

  “But Ryne said… ” She let her voice trail off and furrowed her brow. Had Ryne really said it was Harley? Yes, she was pretty sure he had. But why would Ryne lie? And what animal had she seen? Knowing she wouldn’t be satisfied until she had some answers, she decided to query the man’s whereabouts.

  “Ryne said what?” Ben looked at her curiously, obviously wondering about her half finished statement.

  “Er… nothing. Is he working today? I need to talk to him about something.”

  “No. He called in early this morning and asked to switch his day to Thursday; said there were some things he had to take care of today.”

  Mel nodded. “All right. Thanks for the information.” With a final pat on Harley’s head and a nod to Ben, she slowly crossed the street, heading towards the diner. This definitely deserved some thinking and a very large, very strong cup of coffee.

  Chapter 23

  Mel sat in the diner, only providing absentminded answers when Ruth and Al spoke to her. Thankfully, the two were in a heated debate about possible changes to the diner’s menu and only looked to her for an occasional grunt or nod that she was still listening.

  “We need to diversify, Al! We’ve been serving the same thing for the last ten years. Tastes change. People want fancier food with sauces and exotic names; isn’t that right, Mel?”

  “Uh-huh.” She nodded while wondering why Ryne would want to pretend that there wasn’t a wolf, or at least a wild dog present, when there really was. It made no sense.

  “Our customers are the same ones we’ve always had, Ruth. They like the food, they know what we have to offer, and that’s why they keep coming back. You like what we serve, don’t you, Mel?”

  “Yep.” Mel gave Al a smile and then returned to her musings. Was Ryne hiding something, beyond his ‘I didn’t exist before photography’ background? Or had he somehow arranged something that looked a bit like a wolf and set it there to scare her? But why would he do that? And what had he used? And where had he hidden it afterwards because there hadn’t been anything there when she got up out of the water. Maybe he was some type of witch and had conjured up a wolf. Mel snorted at the idea. There was no such thing a magic. She rubbed her forehead, trying to massage away the beginnings of a headache, while ignoring the great menu debate that was going on around her.

  Thankfully, Ruth and Al finally moved their argument into the kitchen and she no longer had to feign interest in what they were saying. Unfortunately, Lucy arrived to take their place. Apparently, the waitress was more observant than her employers for she plunked down beside Mel and looked at her earnestly.

  “So what’s wrong with you, hon? You look like you’re miles away. Not still brooding over me and Ryne, are you? ‘Cause if you are, there’s really no need.”

  “No. It’s not that, at least not much.” Mel glanced up at Lucy. “Even though you say you don’t care, I still feel sort of weird about it.”

  Lucy scrunched her forehead as if thinking hard for a moment. Then her face cleared and she smiled. “Have you ever found pair of jeans or shoes that you really liked?”

  “Yes.” Mel answered slowly, not at all sure where this was going.

  “Well, you like them and try them on, on
ly they’re a bit tight, but you like them so much you buy them anyways. Then, when you get home, what do you do with them?”

  “Um… I put them in the closet.”

  “And?”

  “Well, sometimes I try them on at home, just to see if, by some miracle, they finally fit.” Mel gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Of course, they never do, so I just stick them in the back of the closet.”

  “So, what happens eventually?”

  Mel thought of her jam-packed closet at home and the annual spring purge that she always performed. Items that were too worn were discarded while clothes that she didn’t like or that no longer fit were given to friends or charities. “Eventually, I admit they’ll never fit and give them away to someone.”

  “Exactly!” Lucy leaned back in her seat, folded her arms, and smiled in a smug, self-satisfied way.

  Blinking, Mel pondered what her friend had just said, but finally admitted defeat. “Lucy, I have absolutely no idea what my bad shopping habits have to do with you and Ryne, or me feeling guilty.”

  An exasperated look passed over the waitress’s face. “But don’t you see? Ryne is my pair of shoes that don’t fit! He’s gorgeous and I like having him, but he’s not really made for me. So rather than hanging on, I’m giving him to a friend so she can see if he’s right for her or not. Understand?”

  Mel stared at the other woman and then chuckled. "You know Lucy, that’s a very good analogy.”

  Lucy made a show of buffing her nails against her chest, nose in the air while attempting to look superior. “I thought so.”

  Gently nudging the waitress with her shoulder, Mel smiled at her. “Thanks for trying to make me feel better.”

  “And did it work?”

  She considered the situation she was in. Yes, she felt more secure in the fact that being involved with Ryne would not hurt her friend’s feelings. However, Ryne and his behaviour still had her in knots. She forced a smile though, not wanting Lucy to think her efforts were wasted. “Yeah, I guess I feel a bit better.”

  Lucy gave her an assessing look. “You feel a bit better, but not great. So, what’s still bugging you? Maybe I can help with that, too.”

  Mel traced a pattern on the tabletop with her finger, hesitant to speak her concerns, but really wanting another opinion. Lucy had just proved she was the sensible sort, so Mel decided to take the plunge. “Do you think Ryne is honest? I’m not talking about stealing or something like that. I mean, honest as in telling the truth.”

  “Ryne? Well, I suppose I consider him honest. He’s always been upfront about relationships; never promising me, or any of the other local girls, anything beyond great sex as far as I know. Why? Do you think he’s stringing you along?” Lucy frowned at her.

  “No, no. It’s nothing like that. He was very blunt about our… er… encounter. I mean honest as in telling the truth, or making up stories.”

  “As far as I know he’s never told me an outright lie—well, except about coming to fix my leaky faucet, but that’s more of him being busy and forgetful than lying I think. So, what’s going on?”

  Mel sipped her coffee, before answering. “I’m not sure. The other day he told me something and I’m pretty sure he knew it wasn’t true.”

  “Was it to, you know, protect your feelings? Like when a guy says you don’t look fat in a sweater, but you know damn well that you do?”

  Mel snorted, but considered the situation. Would lying about Harley being there have protected her feelings in any way? No, not really. She shook her head at Lucy and the other woman continued.

  “Well, was it a lie of omission? Like he didn’t say anything or he left something out? I know Ryne’s real private and he’s great at avoiding questions and changing the topic, when he doesn’t want to answer you.”

  “Maybe. I don’t know. It wasn’t really that kind of a situation… ” Mel let her voice trail off, for some reason reluctant to actually explain the whole incident. “I think it’s just something I’ll have to work through in my head.”

  Slowly, Lucy got to her feet. “All right, but if I can do anything for you, just let me know, besides more coffee, that is.” She tagged on the last bit because Mel raised her cup hopefully. While pouring her a refill, Lucy added one last point. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but I do know that my gut tells me Ryne’s a good man and I’d trust him with almost anything.”

  “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.” Mel took a sip of the warm brew and nodded appreciatively at her friend. “Good as always, even if it isn’t a—”

  “Cafe mocha, whipped cream, with shaved chocolate curls and a cinnamon stick.” Lucy cut in and finished Mel’s thought, looking rather pleased with herself. Mel knew her face must reflect her surprise and the waitress giggled. “I’ve been reading up on all those fancy coffees you keep talking about.” With that, she walked away to see to the other customers.

  Once she was left to her own devices, Mel tossed the Harley-wolf incident round and round in her mind. The only possible reason she could think of him lying about the wolf, was that Ryne hadn’t wanted to frighten her. Yet, that didn’t make total sense. When she’d first met him, after nearly being attacked by wolves on his property, he’d seemed to relish telling her about the vicious beasts and the damage they could have inflicted. Hmm… That was another strange point. Ryne had shown absolutely no concern over the presence of a wolf and—a thought just popped into her head—how had he ‘saved’ her from the wolves on his property? Just before she’d knocked herself out, they’d been howling and snarling, yet Ryne never mentioned chasing them away. And how did one scare off two wolves, anyway?

  Furrowing her brow, Mel wondered once again why, all of the sudden, wolves were figuring so prominently in her life. Draining her cup of coffee, she decided to head back to the Gazette and do a bit more work on her laptop. She’d compile a list of everything wolf related that had happened lately and see if any pattern appeared. There probably wouldn’t be one, but it was a way to spend some time before heading over to the Broken Antler. Ryne hadn’t left a message cancelling their meeting, so maybe he’d show up. And if he did, well, she’d have some very pointed questions for him.

  *****

  Ryne sat in the small donut shop and studied the man across the table from him. The fellow’s story was solid and there was no scent of deception. Just the usual amount of nervousness and fear that any wolf would feel when meeting an Alpha for the first time. His gaze shifted to the far side of the seating area, where, at another table, two young women and an infant sat awaiting his decision. Both females kept their eyes downcast, one quietly humming to the child cradled in her arms while the other, possibly sixteen or seventeen years of age, nervously tore a napkin into pieces.

  “So, tell your story again?” Ryne shifted his attention back to the male before him.

  The man replied quietly and respectfully. “As I said, there was a change in leadership. The Alpha and I did not agree on the mating of my younger sister. He saw her and desired her, but such a union was not… pleasing to her and she was too young, anyway. As a result we had a… falling out.”

  Ryne nodded. It was commendable that that the fellow wasn’t bad-mouthing his old Alpha, even if the leader had been a bastard from the sound of it. “So you moved to Canada from Spain. That’s quite a distance. Was there no pack in another part of Europe?” He sipped his coffee and observed the man over the rim of his cup.

  “My previous Alpha has much influence with the European packs. We thought it best to make a completely new start.”

  “And you chose my pack, how?”

  “The registry, of course. We thought that, as a developing pack, you might be more willing to accept us. We wouldn’t represent a drain on your resources or space.”

  Ryne nodded in understanding. The more established packs were often reluctant to accept outsiders, especially when there was little opportunity to expand the territory on which they lived. Wolves might be social animals, but they
also needed room to roam. His pack—all three of them, he inwardly chuckled—didn’t face such problems. Stats would show there was considerable space around Stump River and he’d listed as being open to accepting new members. Many packs were harder to join than the most exclusive human country club, birth, or bonding being the only possible avenues in.

  “What was your position in your old pack?”

  “I was a scout.” The man lifted his chin slightly, obviously proud of his job which entailed constantly patrolling the territory, keeping tabs on neighbouring packs, and warning the rest if there were intruders.

  “Good. We can use help in that area.” Ryne smiled at the man for the first time. “How are you at construction work? Ever done any carpentry?”

  “A little… Does this mean, you accept us?” His tone was cautious, but Ryne noted a slight flush of excitement showing under the man’s swarthy skin.

  “Yes. Welcome to my pack, Marco Lobero.” They shook hands across the table and Ryne stood, gesturing towards Marco’s family. “Come and introduce me to your mate and sister.”

  *****

  It was five o’clock. Mel sat at the bar in the Broken Antler, morosely sipping her beer. She didn’t like beer and wasn’t sure why she’d ordered it except, when Armand approached her, she’d been too in awe of the giant man to think.

  “Bear.” It was the first word that had popped into her mind and out of her mouth, upon looking at the man. Trying to cover up her faux-pas, she’d quickly coughed and then said “I mean beer.”

  Armand had smirked and Mel had a sneaking suspicion that the man had known exactly what she’d said and found it highly amusing. Still, he hadn’t commented, merely placing a glass in front of her. Nervous at being alone in a bar, Mel drank the first glass much faster than intended. It had given her something to do and kept her hands occupied, as she continuously scanned the room for any sign of Ryne. When the first glass was gone, another had miraculously appeared in front of her. At first she’d been going to protest, but the firm look Armand gave her, had her quietly accepting the offering.