I awaited lunch with all the joy of a mourner on their way to a funeral. There were so many ways the plan could go wrong, and those werewolves in the woods wouldn't give us a chance at a redo. At noon the loggers stopped their work and trampled into the house. Alistair winced every time a muddy boot hit the beautiful, clean floor, but they were a friendly, lively company and alleviated some of my stress.
When the meal was done three of the men about our sizes stayed in the house with Zeke while we sauntered out into the work area. Luke held onto our clothes bag and used his shoulder to steer me toward a specific truck while Alistair went with the men to help with the logging. With three working men down they needed him so they could finish the job as quickly as possible so we could get out of there. The truck designated as Luke and my hiding spot was conveniently blocked by much of the machinery. He opened the door, pushed me inside, and followed behind me.
The cab was cramped, smelled of smoke, and was filthy, and I was glad when Luke guided me into the compartment above the cab. In preparation for our stay a soft, clean blanket was laid out for us along with a couple of pillows. I snuggled down on my side while Luke pressed in close beside me. There was a window at the back with a curtain over it to hide us, but still give some natural light to alleviate some of the claustrophobia I felt in the tiny space. I felt like I needed to eat my knees to give me enough room to breath, and the clothes bag was stretched out on top of both of us.
"How are you doing in here?" Luke asked me.
I winced when my head hit the ceiling. "A little tight," I replied.
Luke grinned. "I like tight."
I rolled my eyes. "Can't you ever focus on the near-imminent death we're in?" I scolded him.
"With you by my side it's hard to think of anything else. Especially with how close these quarters are." He emphasized his point by shifting, and I felt his hips press against mine.
I blushed and scowled at the playful expression on his face. "You're evil, you know that?"
"I'll take that as a compliment," he replied.
"Somehow I knew you would." I sighed and plopped my chin onto my pillow. "So how long do we wait in here?"
"Judging by the loads already on the trucks I'd say a few hours," he told me. Luke carefully brushed aside a corner of the curtain and glanced out, but only for a moment. He quickly let the curtain drop back down and frowned.
"The loggers cut down your favorite climbing tree?" I teased.
He pursed his lips and shook his head. "Worse, I spotted out old friends from yesterday at the edge of the woods."
"That's not very bright of them to be out in the middle of the day," I commented.
"They're probably curious about the logging and trying to get as close a look as possible," he pointed out.
I snorted. "I wish they'd get close enough to be squished by a falling tree."
Luke chuckled and nodded. "That would be convenient for us, but the best we can hope for is they don't find we've flown the coop."
With nothing else to do but wait, I snuggled into the blanket and lay my head down. The early morning wakeup call hadn't given me enough sleep. "I think I'll take a nap."
"What about imminent death?" he teased.
"Wake me if it comes knocking," I mumbled before I drifted off into sleep.
5
The next thing I knew there was a sudden tremor and a loud, blaring honk. My eyes shot open and I looked wildly around at this cramped, unknown space with the shadowed figure beside me. The figure put a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Easy there. We're just moving," Luke told me.
I remembered where I was and why I was here, and breathed a sigh of relief. "So it's not imminent death?" I asked him.
He chuckled. "Not yet. The truck driver whispered to me a few minutes ago that the trucks were full and we'd be heading out soon. It must be soon already."
"How long does it take to get to Townsend?" I wondered. I'd only made the trip twice, and the first time I was preoccupied with wanting to kill Luke for kidnapping me.
"In this heavy truck it'll take a half hour. Then we'll slip out while they're unloading and get into the car nearest the load. That's meant for employees of the logging company, and the crew master said it'd be fine for us to use it."
We rocked and bumped our way to Townsend. The road was long and tense, and both of us hardly breathed. We would be taking a risk leaving the truck because we still had no idea if there were any spies in town, but it was a risk we had to take. The truck came to a stop and we heard the door to the cab open. "That's our cue to leave. Let me scout the area," Luke suggested.
He climbed down into the cab while I nervously waited in the berth. In a few minutes his head popped up into the berth and he nodded. "Looks fine. Let's get into the car quick."
I climbed down and we exited the cab, but stayed close to the truck. The vehicle was parked parallel to the railroad tracks on the opposite side of the station platform. A large claw unloaded the wood from the truck and loaded it onto an open train car platform. There were two of those, and not far off sat the other truck with its full load and a hiding Alistair in the berth.
Luke took my hand and led me down the train to the nearest car. Fortunately there was a door on this opposite side, and he helped me in before climbing in himself and shutting the door. In preparation for our visit the tall, narrow windows all had their thick black shades pulled down. I plopped myself down in a cushioned seat while Luke peeked out the windows. Satisfied we weren't seen, he took a seat beside me and sighed. "Well, that's one challenge done with," he commented.
"I hope that's the hard part," I replied.
He pursed his lips together and shook his head. "I have a feeling that was the easy part, but we won't know for sure until we get to Agropolis."
"You think we'll have more trouble convincing Baker we're on his side, or more trouble with the Protectors avenging their murdered guy?" I asked him.
Luke shrugged. "It's hard to say. Everything comes down to timing. If we get there before the Protectors we'll have a chance at getting Baker to safety."
"You know, there's one thing we haven't really thought about," I mused.
He turned to me and raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"
"What if Baker really did murder a Protector?"
Luke's face tensed and he looked straight ahead as he pondered that possibility. After a moment he shook his head. "No, I just don't believe it, and judging by Stacy's message she doesn't, either."
I shrugged. "Just thought I'd throw that out there. Can't be too careful."
He smiled and gave my hand a squeeze. "You're right, but in this case you're wrong."
I rolled my eyes. "Thanks." Luke leaned in and nuzzled my neck. I giggled and pushed him away. "None of that now. We're on a mission to save a guy who may or may not be a murderer."
"That doesn't mean we can't have a little fun on the way," he argued.
"Doesn't your beast ever switch off?"
"You broke the off switch the minute I noticed you sitting in the bar."
"I'm not sure whether to be flattered or call an electrician."
A strangled laugh broke from Luke's lips. We didn't need to be making a bunch of noise in a train car that was supposed to be empty. A few minutes later another occupant was added in the form of Alistair who was freed from his truck imprisonment. "The final load will be finished in a half hour and the train will depart soon after that," Alistair informed us.
"And then we head west to Agropolis and arrive there in a few hours. That should get us there just after dark and provide us with some cover," Luke added.
"Do you know the way to Baker's place?" I asked him.
"I know the address and the general location, but haven't actually been there," he admitted. "His farm is a few miles out of Agropolis, and is one of the larger ones in that area so it'll be hard to miss."
There was nothing else to do but wait for us to arrive at Agropolis. The train left the station exactly as Alistair told u
s, and once it started moving Luke allowed me to raise the shade by my seat. The wooded country passed by in a blur of green and brown colors, but before nightfall the thick forest was tamed by the plow. Expansive fields of wheat and alfalfa replaced the tall trees, and large rocks changed to small farmhouses. I noticed a majority of the farms had modern equipment, but the houses were clean but, extremely plain.
Luke noticed my intent gaze on the houses, and leaned toward me. "They're a great deal like Quakers," he explained to me.
"Minus the beards," I added with a smile, remembering Baker's clean-shaven face.
The sun set an hour before we hit the Spatia station, a small platform with a small town in the background. The dusty, paved streets were laid out in a neat grid pattern with buildings that rarely reached higher than two floors, but I saw many of them had large cellar doors in the wide, clean alleys between the structures. There was a main street directly behind the station that was surrounded on both sides by clapboard houses with green lawns and barking dogs. Off in the distance I learned where the logs were headed when I noticed steam pouring from a sawmill.
"We'll have to go on foot. It's too risky searching for a car to drive us out there," Luke told us.
I winced and glanced down at my feet. I still wore the heavy logger boots and didn't look forward to a long hike along the dusty dirt roads I'd seen out the train car window. "How far is it?" I wondered.
"About ten miles." The color drained from my face, but Luke laughed and rubbed my back. I purred. "You're feet aren't as tender as they used to be. Remember, you're a werewolf now and made of tougher stuff," he encouraged me.
I smiled and straightened in my seat. "I guess you're right. Let's get going."
We left the train car, passed through the town, and took the main road out into the country. Night covered our forms and the dry, packed ground covered our tracks. The air was fresh and beautiful, the sky was brilliantly lit with stars, and my feet were killing me. The first five miles I felt invincible, the next three I tried every dance step in the book to alleviate my discomfort, and the last two miles I felt homicidal. I knew I was a werewolf now and made of tougher stuff, but my feet didn't believe it. They ached, I was already tired of the dry grain bars that tasted like sawdust and created deserts in my mouth. My years in the city hadn't prepared me for the noises and critters of the country. There were the cute crickets, the loud frogs, the annoying gnats, the mosquitoes the size of Alaska, and the beady eyes of raccoons watching us from the brush. I imagined them sitting there rubbing their cute little pawed hands together waiting for one of us to drop from exhaustion. Then they'd strike. Unfortunately, I was the weakest link in our group of three.
Fortunately, I was saved from a terrible fate of being eaten alive by raccoons by our arrival at Baker's farm. Luke stopped us at a post with a home address and smiled. "Looks like my nose didn't lead us astray," he commented.
I frowned. "Nose? I thought you said you knew the way."
He sheepishly grinned. "I may have exaggerated my geographical abilities, and Spatia is much larger and more open than I remember when I last passed through here ten years ago."
I rolled my eyes as I followed Luke and Alistair past the post and down a half-mile dirt lane that led to a two-story white-washed farmhouse with a nice lawn around it. To our left beside the house was a small grove of wilderness filled with aspens and thick brush. To our right and fifty yards off was a large red barn with three parts to it. There were two short wings on either side of the high-peaked center where I imagined they kept most of their hay. Normal house doors led into the wings, and a pair of large, rolling barn doors were in the center of the building. Between the barn and us were two empty, fenced cow stocks with a road separating them. Beyond the house lay fields of alfalfa that sloped down out of view toward a far-off river, and beside the stocks were fresh stacks of rectangular hay bails piled three times my height.
I noticed movement out on the lawn and saw there were two kids, a boy and girl about six and eight, who were wrestling in the grass. They both wore coveralls and dirty shirts, but their faces were clean except for the grass stains. Behind them we could see lights through the windows of the house, but there wasn't any movement. Luke slowly walked over to the pair, and they noticed us as soon as we came within scenting range which for them was twenty yards.
They stopped their playing and the boy scurried behind his older sibling. They looked too much alike to be anything but related, what with their brown hair and brown eyes. At the moment those eyes were wide, and I could see the choice of fight or flight dash over their expressions. The girl gathered her courage and stepped forward with her brother still clinging to the back of her coveralls. "Can I help you?" she asked us.
"We're looking for Tom Baker. Do you happen to know where he is?" Luke replied.
The kids glanced at each other and I noticed the fear in their eyes increased tenfold. I could also smell it, and it wreaked of sweat. The boy must have taken a near-instant disliking to us because he glared at us. "Who wants to know?" the boy challenged us.
"We're a couple of friends who heard he might need some help," Luke told them. The kids remained doubtful, but he smiled and knelt down in front of them. "We owe him a favor for some explosive trouble we had a while back and thought we might help here. You tell him just that and we'll wait here for you," he added with a wink.
The girl hesitantly moved away from us and toward the barn with her brother close behind. The moment they were sure they were out of reach they dashed down the lane between the two cow stocks and ran into the barn. Luke frowned. "Something doesn't smell right here," he murmured.
"I'll say," I quipped. I wrinkled my nose as I looked at old piles of manure stacked in the cow stocks.
Luke stood and shook his head. "They're too afraid of us." He turned to Alistair. "Check out around the house and the fields. See if you can find something unusual." Alistair bowed and disappeared into the night.
A few moments later we noticed a group of three exit from the left-hand wing and walk toward us. Baker was at the lead with the children in tow. He stopped a few feet from us and scrutinized our rugged appearances. We were covered in dirty from our long walk and dried mud from our disguises. Luke stepped forward and bowed. "Lord Baker, a pleasure to see you again," he humbly greeted him.
Baker's eyes widened. "Lord Laughton?" he replied in disbelief.
Luke grinned and wiped off some of the grime. "At your service, which is why we're here."
Baker's suspicious eyes narrowed. "Why are you here?" he asked us.
"Stacy Stevens informed us you were in trouble because a Protector was killed in your region," Luke explained to him.
We were in for a shock as Baker frowned and shook his head. "This is the first I've heard of it."
6
I glanced at Luke and could see the shock in the lines of his serious face. "You haven't heard anything about a Protector's death?" Luke insisted.
Baker frowned. "Do you think I would've forgotten about something like that?" he shot back.
"No, but Miss Stevens has always been a reliable source before, and this is information she wouldn't have passed on unless she was certain it happened," Luke replied.
Baker shrugged. "I don't know anything about a Protector getting killed, and I don't see what it has to do with me except that it's in my region."
Now it was Baker's turn for a shock. "The High Lord suspects you him killed and are threatening treason against him," Luke told him.
The farmer lord's face twisted into disbelief and anger. His children shrank from his fury. "Treason? For the imaginary murder of a Protector?" Baker demanded to know.
"They don't consider it imaginary, and the Protector was supposedly sent to watch for treason in you and your region," Luke explained to him. I noticed Luke used the word 'supposedly' when talking about the Protector. He had growing doubts about the whole story, but couldn't explain how Stacy could be so wrong on something so serious.
At that moment Baker stiffened and his head whipped over to the house. His eyes flickered to us and he pulled his kids behind him. "You bring someone with you?"
"Yes, my manservant, Alistair. He's looking around the grounds," Luke answered. Luke froze, and I noticed his nostrils flared and could almost see his ears twitch. "Do you have anyone working for you, or have you seen any strangers around here lately?" Luke asked Baker.
The farmer shook his head. "I've got a few hands, but they leave before sunset. I've heard there were a few strangers who passed through town a few days ago, but I didn't here anything more. Why?"
"A few days ago we had some trouble with unwanted guests who didn't have a scent," Luke explained. "They beat up my grounds keeper and watched the house. We escaped them this morning and came directly here."
Baker frowned. "You think these guys followed you?"
Luke furrowed his brow. "We left behind decoys, and I don't see how they could have caught up this quickly unless-" Our conversation was interrupted by a brief cry that was cut off by some violent hand. It came from the far fields beyond the farther cow stock.
"Alistair!" I gasped.
Luke quickly turned to Baker. "Leave your kids with Becky and follow me." Baker hesitated, but Luke's stern face told him he wouldn't take no for an answer.
"I'll take care of them," I spoke up. I walked around him and, with a smile I didn't feel, took their hands in each of mine. "Come on, kids, your dad's got to beat up some bad guys," I told them.
"Papa?" the girl asked her dad.
Baker grimly nodded and brushed the heads of his kids. "It's fine, just go with her and if you hear anything else, make a run to Neighbor Paul's, okay?"
They both nodded, and I led them toward the main road and away from the noise. Baker followed Luke into the darkness on the far side of the lot, and the pair of them disappeared over the hill that led down into the fields. The young boy began to sniffle, and I knelt down in front of him. "It'll be all right. Your dad'll be back in no time," I whispered to him.
"You think so?" the girl asked me.
I smiled and nodded. "Sure. Who could beat your dad?" That stumped them. When a child is young nobody could beat their dad. "Now how about we tell each other our names? I'm Becky."