Outlaw Valley Wolf (Silver Fox Ranch Book 2) Page 15

  Sam and Wesley had no choice but to go after him. They chased Jesse through the woods and came upon markers that led to the Comanche camp. Beth was tied up at the center of the clearing with a bruise on her cheek. She kicked her legs and fought against her restraints. Jesse moved to approach, but Sam held him fast. Wesley shook his head, and the male calmed. They watched from the shadows as the leader approached Beth.

  He was no chief. They were outcasts, much like Itsá.

  Sam mouthed the word, “Skinwalker.”

  They looked on as the man pulled out a blade and slid it against Beth’s cheek opposite of the bruise. He did the same to the other side, and blood fell like warpaint. Something about her changed. She began to writhe against the stump she was tied to. Her body jerked as bones reformed. Sleek fur spread along her limbs, and a fox crouched where Beth had been. Jesse recalled Boone telling him that Itsá warned them about the Comanche.

  The skinwalkers must have sensed the spirit of the fox within her and thought she would be useful to them. Wesley, however, only cared about freeing his friend. It was never a good idea to anger the Comanche, but Beth belonged with people who cared about her. Jesse and Sam flanked Wesley as he stood tall and approached the camp. The warriors were on the defense immediately. Wesley stayed calm. “That woman belongs to us.”

  “She does not bear a mark.”

  “She is ours by claim,” Wesley stated. “You came onto our land and took one of our own. An offense punishable by death even in your own circle. Tell me, what does a group of Comanche stranglers need with a fox, anyhow?”

  “Look around you. Our camp lacks females, and ones with natural talent for calling forth the animal spirits are favored to bear our young. We have watched her closely. She is a warrior worthy of bearing our sons.”

  The leader eyed Jesse when he growled deep in his chest. “You won’t touch her!”

  Wesley gave Jesse a warning glance. “Your people covet horses. We’ll give you three if you hand her over,” he offered. “Strong horses that can travel great distances.”

  Interest entered their gazes, and Wesley thanked the gods above.

  “Four horses. We have four riders.”

  Boone would kill him if he promised four horses to someone, but Beth’s life was worth it. She had been through enough. “You’ve got a deal but let me warn you that there are beasts in these forests, as well as witches. They may try to take what you have. If you need us, we will aid you if you honor this trade.”

  The leader held out his hand. “The Wendigo Spirit will not take my brothers. But we agree. I can see the blood of the tribes within you. Though I do not trust the white man, I trust you to keep your word.”

  Jesse fetched the horses as Sam lifted Beth into his arms. The fox continued to tremble, and Wesley remembered the first time he had taken his wolf form. The pain had been unbearable. Once the horses were secured with the Comanche, they returned to the ranch with Beth. She shifted when they reached the fence and avoided Jesse’s gaze.

  Wesley led her to one of the spare bedchambers in the house and made sure she was comfortable. “I want you to know that there ain’t nothing on this ranch besides Charlotte and our friends that I wouldn’t have bartered with. We weren’t going to leave you out there, Beth.”

  “I thought...when they took me, it was like I couldn’t fight back. I haven’t felt like that in a long time, Wesley James. I’ve been through a lot, but what just happened to me was the worst.”

  “Shifting is difficult in the beginning.”

  “It isn’t the shifting that I have the problem with,” she snorted. “I can handle pain, but I don’t like not being able to control it. It came over me like the storm that brought us here. I was helpless and afraid. I never want to feel like that again.”

  ~*~

  Wesley was away with Boone to barter for more cattle or something similar. Charlotte barely cared to ask anymore as the days became mundane. There were no wendigo attacks, and the witches seemed to be in hiding, so it felt foolish to train while Abigail and Mary Ann were expecting. So, Charlotte was lost in the pages of her book when the letters were passed around that morning. She hid behind her stories and dreamed of the day Wesley returned to her. Even then, her mind was lost in the erotic memory of his nude figure. Charlotte blushed wildly and glanced around the room in case anyone noticed. She crossed her legs and readjusted her features before turning the page of her book. Abigail brushed her arm gently and handed over a letter.

  She took one look at the name on the front and uttered, “Burn it. Along with any other letter from a man named Baxter Clearwater.”

  The rest were set down in front of her at the same time one of the stable boys brought in a bouquet of flowers. Beautiful honeysuckles and scarlet pimpernels clustered the wrapping. Charlotte felt her cheeks ache with the force of her smile. The breadth of her grin caused everyone in the room to take notice.

  They looked up from their breakfast and watched her gush over the lovely gift. She unfolded the small note and nearly cried at the scrawling of her beloved’s name. But that was not all that came with the flowers. She plucked a small scrap of paper out of the bouquet and began to laugh hysterically. Charlotte was relieved that Abigail had enough decency not to read something so private, for it was nothing more than crude drawings of rather intimate scenes.

  Charlotte quickly tucked the paper in her book to hold her place before anyone thought to look over her shoulder. Beth arched a brow in her direction, and Charlotte naughtily flipped open the book to show her. The expression on her friend’s face was absolutely wonderful. Charlotte stood up from the table and grabbed her things, moving quickly past Mrs. Bloom. She perched them on the bedside table and went to see Itsá before getting to her chores.

  Though she and Wesley were married, Charlotte preferred to stay busy with housework if not training in the forest with Gabriel. She pushed open the door to Itsá’s room and sat in the chair beside the bed. “Good morning, Itsá. How are you feeling?”

  “I do not like being in this house. There are too many people.”

  She laughed at that. “Of course you would hate it here. You are used to your forest with your trees and your campfire.”

  “Yes, my home was quiet until you came along,” he teased. “I miss those days.”

  Charlotte playfully swatted his arm. “Well, I am glad you are here, and I know the others are as well. They have gotten used to seeing you around. Perhaps you should consider staying.”

  Itsá shook his head. “I am an eagle with a wounded wing, but I must be allowed to fly. I have duties to tend to. Who will seek wisdom from the ancestors if not me?”

  “Gabriel can do more if you would let him. He truly looks up to you.” She folded the freshly washed shirts beside the bed even though Itsá was more likely to go naked before putting them on. “If you and Boone could look beyond your stubbornness, you would see that your brothers adore you. Gabriel wants nothing more than to make you proud. Give him a chance.”

  Itsá’s eyes grew sad. “My sister died, and I was not there to protect her. Everyone I have tried to take care of has been hurt because of me. I do not want to see the same thing happen to my brother. He is paranoid and foolish, but it has kept him alive all these years. I would like to see him live longer than me. For now, it is best I keep my distance.”

  She nodded her understanding, for she had once felt such guilt.

  “We have made allies with the skinwalkers in the forest, Ace has gotten rid of the outlaws, and the witches have not attacked us in weeks. So why do I feel so empty?” Charlotte asked. “I begged the heavens to send us peace, and now I feel as if I’m waiting for something to happen.”

  “Your spirit has always been restless, Charlotte. It is a part of you that will never change. All you can do is master your urges. Do not run now that you have found something to live for.” Take a chance and allow yourself to be happy.”

  “And what about you, Itsá?” she asked softly. “What will m
ake you happy?”

  “Freedom.”

  “Freedom? For the tribes?”

  He shook his head. “I am bound to this world by my oath. The ancestors have blessed me with a long life until another shaman presents itself, but I am old and weary, though I do not look like it. If I can find someone to replace me, perhaps I may enjoy the fleeting life of a man.”

  “Have you ever been in love?”

  “No. I never dared,” Itsá admitted.

  Charlotte leaned back in her seat with a sly grin. “I have a friend—”

  Itsá sat up. “No. Get that look off of your face. Do not try anything, Charlotte.”

  “But you have already met Ariel!” she argued. “You both deserve to be happy.”

  “No. And that is final.”

  Charlotte smiled to herself. It wasn’t final.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  One week later…

  “Charlotte! Someone would like to see you,” Beth shouted.

  Charlotte hurried downstairs and peeked through a slight crack in the door. A new smile erupted on her face, and she jumped into the arms of her beloved Wesley. Their kiss was full of passion until Charlotte pulled away to peer around the dark corridors of the servant's hall to make sure no one was around. She stepped outside and shut the door behind her before throwing herself at her husband once again.

  Strong, capable hands circled her waist.

  "I didn't expect to see you until morning," she gasped when they put some distance between them. "You didn't say anything in your letters. You should have told me.” Charlotte loved the way the moonlight played off the silver in his hair.

  "Happy to see me, sweetheart?" There was an impish glint in Wesley's eyes that made Charlotte kiss him again. This time, their kiss was short and sweet, brimming with affection. "I thought I would surprise you. Did you get my flowers? I asked him to pick you nice ones."

  “I loved them, Wesley,” Charlotte exclaimed in a sort of whisper-shout that should have been impossible. She pulled him into the stables and leaned back against the wall as rain clouds appeared in the night sky. Thunder clapped loudly, and Wesley pressed his body up against her to keep them warm. “You’ve been gone for too long.”

  “I know. I missed you every damn second that I was away.”

  “I’ve been going mad with boredom,” she admitted. “Everyone but Beth is too pregnant to do much of anything. And even Beth is a bit of a bore lately. She spends most of her time avoiding Jesse whenever he’s about. Gabriel, at least, is fun to gossip with. He is convinced you have a tail even in this body.” Charlotte chuckled at the visual once more and basked in the glow of her Wesley’s attention.

  “Did you tell him that he was wrong?”

  She shook her head. “I told him he’d just have to figure it out for himself. I never knew rabbits were so curious. Perhaps it’s not rabbits at all, but Gabriel—” Her rambling was cut off with a kiss, and Charlotte smiled against his lips. “Do you remember when you first saw me, Wesley?”

  “I could never forget that day.”

  “What did you think of me?”

  “I thought you were strong and beautiful and that not even a bad storm could shake loose that teasing little smile on your face,” he replied. “I nearly lost you, Charlotte. That ain’t happening again. Mark my words.”

  “Consider them marked.” She leaped out of his arms and ran out into the rain. Charlotte dropped her pelisse and danced around like a wild woman. Her hair came loose from its braid, and she twirled. All the while, her eyes never left Wesley. He leaned his hip against the door jamb of the stable entrance and stroked his beard as he watched her dance.

  Lightning struck nearby, and a flash of light catapulted Charlotte into a vision…

  “Run, Charlotte! Remember what I told you.” Gabriel caused an explosion that leveled part of the forest, buying her enough time to get free while he held them off. Itsá fought beside his brother, but the others were nowhere to be found. The witches burned in a roiling fire…

  The energies in the forest shifted, and she knew she had to leave.

  Charlotte could hear them long before she caught sight of the slender shadows creeping across the ground. Their claws dug into the sodden Earth and ripped open their mouths, causing a horrific screech to ring loudly in her sensitive ears. Rain poured down from an obsidian sky that was streaked with gray storm clouds. Droplets slid down the wendigos’ leathery skin and sizzled. Steam coiled from between her lips. Her eyes darted back and forth as she tried to find her bow and arrows. “Come on, Charlotte! Don’t let them catch you,” she said aloud to herself.

  The wendigos swarmed. Charlotte had no choice but to run.

  Water splashed up from the ground as her boots pounded against the grass. The muscles in her legs burned, and a gust of hot breath caressed the back of her neck. Charlotte could see the lights flickering in the distance from the windows of the ranch house. Boney, taloned fingers wrapped around her ankle and jerked her from of her feet. Charlotte hit the ground with a startled cry and blasted the creature with a spell. “Wesley!”

  She came to with arms around her once more. Charlotte clung to Wesley’s shoulders and took comfort in the beat of his heart against her chest. “What happened? Was it another vision?”

  Charlotte nodded slowly, unwilling to release her hold on him. “I know what to do next.”

  Wesley swept her up into his arms and carried her into the house. They dropped water all over the floor, but she didn’t care. Charlotte let her mind and her body go numb until she felt herself slide between warm linens. Wesley wrapped himself around her and kept her warm. “Do you know how to kill the wendigo without weapons?”

  “Yes…” Charlotte answered honestly. The vision had brought forth something, a knowledge so profound that it had to have been true. A knock came upon the door, and Wesley went to answer. He eased it open, and Charlotte heard Sam’s voice on the other side of the door.

  “Itsá and his brother are gone. I checked in on them before bed, and they weren’t in their room. I thought Charlotte might want to know.”

  “She…ugh…ain’t feeling too well.” Wesley glanced over his shoulder at her for a moment. “Thanks, Sam. Do you know where they might have gone?”

  “My guess? The mountain. Itsá kept going on about the ancestors tryin’ to speak to him.”

  Charlotte curled deeper into the blankets and blocked the world out.

  She wished them well.

  Epilogue

  Wolf Valley

  August 1871

  Sam pressed his forehead against the damp wall beneath Mary Ann’s window. He had to stop coming around or else her brother would pelt him with lead. He squeezed his eyes tight, trying to banish the memory of those endless blue depths in Mary Ann's gaze. Everything had been fine until after the raid on that train down in New Mexico. Folks had caught on quickly when they realized the outlaw responsible was Boone Cassady’s little brother.

  But when Sam returned to Wolf Valley prepared to face their judgment, Mary Ann had been so friendly so...alive that Sam was caught in a daze. He never felt anything like it before. It was like every ounce of his being was torn apart and put back together, the sensation stronger than changing into his wolf.

  He admired Mary Ann. It was because of her that he had chosen to stick around.

  And yet, he fought the feelings he had for her worse than he had during the shootout with the U.S. Marshals. He didn't want anyone to like him and he didn’t want to like Mary Ann. Sam wasn’t cut off for the same things his brother Boone was, but he couldn't see a way out. And now he was sure that Mary Ann despised him.

  She rarely met his gaze or spoke with him about anything that wasn't related to the well-being of everyone in town. And Sam was tired of it. He was curious about her in a way that he shouldn’t be. He wanted to know how her beautiful mind had managed to paint him as a good person. He wanted to know how it felt to wake up next to her.

  Sam just wanted Mary A
nn.

  Mary Ann, with her sad blue eyes and plush bottom lip that she always worried between her teeth. Mary Ann that Boone was certain Sam wasn’t good enough for. Sam was always aware of Mary Ann even if he was supposed to be concentrating on more important things. Like now, Sam's senses were tuned in to Mary Ann completely. He knew every brush that the fabric of her skirts made or the constant tapping of her pencil against the table as she wrote letters to her brother while he was in Texas.

  “Are you gonna stand out there all day or come in?”

  Her voice snapped him out of the trance, and Sam contemplated running. But when he looked up into her glacier-blue eyes, he gave in. Sam braced his hands against the windowsill and lifted himself up. Mary Ann was dressed in nothing but her robe, but she sat on the edge of her bed as if it wasn’t the first time he had seen her like that. In fact, Sam had known Mary Ann most of her life, but he knew to keep a safe distance. She considered him a friend, and he didn’t want to risk that precious gift.

  “Do you sit out there a lot, Samuel?” Mary Ann asked brazenly. “You know if my brother ever caught you, the town would ask for your head in a pine box.”

  Sam smiled and scratched the back of his neck bashfully. No one ever made him feel that way. “I’m not a good man, Mary Ann. I got a woman who loves me and a daughter that swears I hung the moon in the sky just for her,” he said softly. “But I can’t take my eyes off of you when I’m in town. It makes me feel...worthless. Savannah deserves better than me.”

  “And I don’t?”

  “You do…”

  “You’re damn right, I do,” she snickered. “But sometimes better ain’t always what’s best for us. For example, takin’ a job at the mayor’s office would be better for me, but you and I both know that working with my brother is what’s best. Somebody needs to look after him.”