River Wolf (11 page)

“So you blew your first chance,” Owen said in a slow and deliberate tone. “Does that mean you should deny yourself the second when the opportunity presents itself?”

“I suppose that would depend on if I possessed any self-destructive tendencies.” The answer to which was a total yes. Maybe it was the blunt nature of the couple she’d spent the day with or the warmth of Gillian showered her in—affection Colby had in no way earned that inspired her to complete the thought. “Or if by grasping a second chance to turn back to an earlier chapter, I sabotage the progress I’ve made.” She had made progress, dammit. No longer reliant on her mother’s goodwill or stifling herself to fit into the mold her family wanted for her, she’d actually settled some of her wilder ways.

“Well, you are the only one who can truly decide if this is the path for you, or not.” Gillian met her gaze, the ever-present smile ghosting at the corners of her mouth. “But you have friends who will support you and help you no matter where you decide to direct your energies.”

About that
… “I want to apologize in advance if what I am about to say is rude.” The girl could leave her mother’s house, but her mother’s rules didn’t always leave her. Not when the rule of politeness, never rocking the boat, and keeping her head down had been a way of life. “I met you this morning, and I really don’t know anyone else
here
except for Luc. To be blunt, I’m not sure he counts.” Distrusting the sense of connection blooming after such a short acquaintance with a patient and currently with the physician and her husband, Colby sighed. “We’re all acting like I’m staying here—permanently. But I don’t know any of you.”

Not even her dark mysterious host with his palpable loneliness and toe-curling smiles.

“You know, I like to think we’re making a play for you,” Gillian said after a long, almost contemplative silence. The response was not what Colby expected. “Sometimes you meet people, and you click. You know they are the right kind—the good kind. The kind that belong with you.” Her gaze dipped to her left, focusing on her husband. “Sometimes those people are stubborn, and don’t think they deserve to belong somewhere. They get this damned idea they aren’t good enough, even if what they decide to measure themselves against is so damnably incongruous…”

Chuckling, Owen reached over to cup his wife’s cheek. The gentle action coupled with the size of his broad hand stroking Gillian’s face left Colby feeling as though she intruded on something inescapably intimate and profound. Turning her attention to the catalog once more, she sighed.

“Colby?” The question in Gillian’s voice demanded her attention. “You aren’t sure of us yet because you aren’t sure of yourself. You aren’t sure of Hudson River because it doesn’t fit the image of the place you planned to go…” The road curved and on one side she could see the drop toward the river, and on the other a farmer’s market filled to the brim with people laughing, shopping and making their way through their lives.

“There’s a saying about how when we’re born, we don’t get to choose our families. That choice comes later.” Reaching over the seat, Gillian held out her hand. “As adults, we can choose the life we want, and we can make it happen.”

“Does it ever get hard?” Colby should have swallowed the question the moment it danced across her tongue. “Being so damn nice?” The longing to just take them at their word, to take Gillian’s kindness and even Brett’s—though arguably her host had a more authoritarian manner to his
kindness.

Though she offered only a shrug for an answer, Gillian’s smile didn’t diminish. “If I could explain it to you I would. I am—me. For what it’s worth, I like you, Colby. I want to be there to help you, but no one is going to make you stay.”

“Or maybe they will,” Owen’s contradictory statement tugged their attention forward. He’d turned onto the long slip of a road leading toward Brett’s house and they weren’t the only one there. At least a dozen cars were parked in the grass just off the driveway. Even inside the truck, the bass beat of music vibrated and smoke rose from three grills stationed on the stone patio—a second one Colby hadn’t noticed before.

Her stomach sank. A party meant tons of people. People she didn’t know. Glancing down at her jeans and t-shirt, she hoped she wasn’t underdressed. Then again, maybe she could sneak away…

Owen pulled the truck into the circle before the house, and an older woman hurried down the steps as the long furred tail of a dog disappeared around the side of the house. Brett didn’t have any pets, at least not so far as she’d noticed. Maybe his guests brought their animals?

Hopefully they were friendly. The door opened before the thought fully completed. “Colby Jensen?” A woman with intense dark blue eyes and a hint of silver in her otherwise sandy blonde hair demanded.

Panic powered through her blood. Had she forgotten to do something with regard to her probation? All her paperwork had been completed. She’d finished her community service and Miranda promised to turn in her final reports. Miranda was not the type to forget anything.

“Yes, ma’am.” Still caught in an indecisive vise, the words came out a little higher pitched than she intended. The front door of the truck opened, and Owen swung around to Gillian’s side then opened the front passenger door. Neither seemed terribly concerned, so maybe…

“I’m Babette Danes,” she said, catching Colby’s free hand in hers. With a light pull, she tugged her from the truck then gave her a hug. “I’m Luc’s mother and I wanted to say thank you so much for bringing my son home.” Good Lord,
this
woman was Luc’s mother? Faint silver in her hair or not—hell, it could just be paler strands of blonde—no way the woman seemed old enough to be Luc’s mom. First Brett’s parents, now Luc’s? The next thing someone would tell her Gillian and Owen were in their fifties.

“Gil!” Babette called, one arm firmly around Colby. A tall man bearing a stunning resemblance to Luc turned away from another group and strode toward them. “She’s here!” The jocularity in Babette’s voice seemed to climb with excitement.

Panic settled into the pit of Colby’s stomach as not only Gil, but most of the circle of people he’d been chatting with followed in his wake. Like his wife, Gil gave her an embrace, though he swept his wife into it as well. “Thank you, Miss Jensen. We are profoundly grateful to have our son home.”

“This is our eldest daughter, Samantha,” Babette took over, and the swarm of people surrounding her parted faintly to reveal a leggy blonde with narrowed eyes and a polite smile. Thankfully, unlike her parents, she didn’t insist on a hug. “This is Taylor. She’s our youngest. Where is Simone?”

“I don’t know, I’m not her keeper.” Taylor answered with a roll of her eyes. If Samantha were cool, Taylor was a pistol. “Mom, you’re going to squeeze Colby to death.” Well, at least she had one ally among them.

“Oh, hush.” Babette dismissed her, then turned Colby to meet another woman. “This is Sabine, and her ma—man David. Oh, this is Mary Jo, not to be confused with Mary Kate who is also here, or Mary Francis…”

“I’m here,” Mary Francis or maybe it was Mary Jo said. Each person pumped Colby’s hand or gave her a quick kiss.

“Of course you know Margie and Charles.” Babette waved toward the grills and, sure enough, Brett’s parents were there. Margie even sported a tie dye shirt, and when she caught Colby’s eye, she gave her a thumbs up.

Hippies. They’re all hippies.
Another swarm of people arrived—just how many had Brett invited while she was out? Or was this a typical Sunday? She lost sight of Gillian and Owen as Babette shepherded her deeper into the throng. Despite the sunshine, the grass remained a tad damp, but they’d thrown out huge tarps and set their blankets atop them. Tables had been set up to serve drinks, while others boasted bowls of salad, pudding, fresh cut fruit and vegetables. Burgers were grilling, along with hot dogs, and if she wasn’t mistaken, she caught the scents of barbecue chicken and pork.

Her stomach growled. Babette passed off her stack of paperwork and catalog, then her purse to a teen and he dashed to the house. Then she pressed a glass of lemonade into her hand and a plate. Before she knew it she was seated on one of the blankets, surrounded by people she didn’t know and being introduced to even more faces.

Too many to even begin remembering their names, so she nodded as politely as she could and kept a death grip on her cup and food plate. It seemed as long as she had both, no one dragged her into a hug or tried to shake her hand. As discreetly as possible, Colby searched the crowd for any sign of Brett. But tall, dark, and lonely was nowhere to be found. Of course, with so many people hanging out on the hill of the front yard, who knew how many were out back? Babette sat close, sandwiching herself between her husband and Colby. Had these people ever heard of personal space?

Finally able to take a bite of—a burger, they’d piled a cheeseburger onto a bun for her—she’d no sooner filled her mouth than Babette said, “We heard you’re planning to stay and we’re thrilled. My Luc is a good man and I know he will do right by you.”

Do right by her?
The bite she’d tried to chew lodged in her throat and she choked. A friendly hand pounded on her back then she had a lapful of dog. Her plate spilled over to the side, and the canine thrust his nose in her face. The deep gold of his eyes caught her attention, but the other adults around her scrambled.

Someone caught the dog by the scruff and there were admonishments, but between the choking and the dog, she couldn’t get any words to come out. The animal weighed a ton and yet the intelligence gleaming in his eyes—definitely a him—captivated her so much she almost forgot she couldn’t breathe.

Suddenly, a hand caught her arm and all but pulled her from the throng, then the arms wrapped around her, with two hands fisted just above her navel, then the force of the squeeze freed the meat lodged in her throat. Sucking in a grateful breath of air, she leaned into the man holding her.

The boisterous noise deadened to almost pure quiet and even the dog sat, tail tucked. “You know better,” Brett’s words seemed to boom across the gathering, though he never raised his voice. The dog went to its belly and lowered its ears and head. Hell, even Colby wanted to bow under the disapproval ringing through his tone.

“It’s okay,” she wheezed. “Just caught me off guard is all.” The last thing she wanted was to be the reason the party stopped. Brett didn’t release her immediately.

“Let’s have Gillian take a look to be certain,” he ordered, and didn’t give her any say in the matter before taking her arm and leading her toward the house. The partygoers scattered, and not once did he have to change direction to avoid anyone. They all avoided him.

Torn between embarrassment for the scene and worry at the reaction his guests had to him, Colby tried to match her pace to him. “Really,” she said in a lower, rougher voice. Her throat hurt some. “I’m okay.”

“Then Gillian will say you are fine, and you can rejoin the festivities.” In other words, do as she was told and don’t argue. They weren’t quite to the house when she couldn’t keep her silence anymore.

“Really, who shoved a big ol’ stick up your butt? And can we see if Gillian can dislodge it?”

If Brett had quieted the crowd, her statement plunged them into silence. The man in question paused and gave her a long, cool look. Maybe she should learn to keep her mouth shut, but dammit… She wasn’t the dog, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to slink down on her belly. She hadn’t done anything wrong.

Meeting him glare for glare, she raised her brows. One thing life had taught her repeatedly—she could give a man a lot of things. She could give them her time, her money, even her heart. Never, however, would she give up her power.

The tension in Brett’s face eased a fraction, then he began to chuckle. The laughter rumbled out of him, sounding almost rusty from disuse. “We’ll talk to her about the stick in my ass after we make sure you’re all right, deal?”

From behind her a whisper of excitement threaded through his guests. Did no one ever tell the man no? Maybe they didn’t, though she had the distinct impression his parents did. Cocking her head to the side, she mulled her answer rather than conceding immediately to the compromise.

“Deal—if you go first.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled, and his mouth twitched. Was he as aware as she was of their audience? “Flip a coin?”

The concession squeezed at her heart. “I can live with that.”

“Good.” The warmth blazing in those too cool eyes threatened to scorch her, but she kept her chin raised. No way he could miss the racing of her pulse, the quiet fury in him earlier scared the crap out of everyone else. So why the hell had it turned her on and beckoned for her to face off with him over it?

Cause I’m as crazy as the lunatics living in this asylum, that’s why.

T
he choking incident annoyed Brett
. He stood silently by while Gillian gave her a once over, his attention focused on the healer for anything she might try to gloss over. Not that Gillian would lie to him, but she would try to put him at ease. His irritation had been clear to every single wolf in the field. Grateful for the way they’d all reacted to his invitation or not, he’d been explicit about Colby’s humanity and lack of knowledge. One email blast brought over fifty wolves in from the local community. Another thirty would be there by nightfall.

Summer picnics and romps used to be the norm. It was time they achieved the norm. Trent could be forgiven his slip and so far Colby hadn’t commented about the young wolf except to say he was a heavy dog. Gillian hummed as she inspected Colby’s throat, listened to her heart and even checked her blood pressure. The tools were all useful, but the Willow Bend healer possessed a rare gift among the wolves—she could work her healing on humans. So while she might be doing the medical dance for Colby’s benefit, she was also checking her with her gift.

Or at least she better be.

The growl rumbling in his throat earned him a patient look from Gillian and a frown from Colby.

“Hey, Doc,” Colby said, still eyeing him. “Brett needs you to check the stick up his ass before we leave.” He’d won the coin toss much to her chagrin.

“If only I could.” The healer laughed as she removed the blood pressure cuff. “But I think you’re doing a wonderful job all by yourself.”

Colby’s snort echoed his own. The glint of humor in her eyes earned another smile from him. “I take it she is all right?”

“She is fine.” Gillian sent another amused look in his direction. He’d get hell from her later. The little submissive had interpreted his interest as romantic, and seemed to be encouraging him on all fronts. While he appreciated the depth of her caring, he had enough interference from his parents—both categorically on Colby’s side. Not to mention Luc’s continued interest, and he’d as yet not determined if it was a mating or not. To prove it, he needed them in the same room.

And I’m not quite ready for her to see him yet…
Luc’s return to the pack was a definite cause for celebration. If he brought a mate home, as Babette and Gil seemed to believe, more parties would follow. His wolf bared his teeth in defiance.

“You did a wonderful job of saving her life,” Gillian added a wink to the last then glanced at Colby. “Drink, take it easy on the harder foods, go for small bites. You have some inflammation from where the food lodged, but I doubt it will last long.” Which told Brett Gillian had healed the worst of it, if there had been a worst to it.

“Thanks,” she said. “I suppose I should go back to the party then, if you can’t do anything about Brett’s issue.”

“Your fascination with my ass is very flattering.” The words sounded far more sexual than he intended, but the sudden smile on Colby’s face was worth it. “And you don’t
have
to go back to the party if you don’t want to…” Despite the invitation serving to bring the pack to meet her, it had also been part of bringing them all together again.

“Actually, I don’t mind the idea of the party, it was just a lot of people and I had no idea you were throwing one.” The reprimand, even if she didn’t intend it to be one, was well deserved.

“Sometimes we get together rather spontaneously, and Luc’s return was as good a reason as any, especially as he’s decided to move home permanently again.” Why the fuck had he told her that? Across the room, Gillian studiously didn’t look at him. Her
lack
of attention was as audible as a demanding stare.

“That’s wonderful for him and for you. Oh, wait—he’s here isn’t he?” She glanced around the living room with its cluttered shelves and old television set. Hatcher hadn’t been a fan of modern living. The old man would have enjoyed Colby. “Do you mind if I say hello?”

“Um,” Gillian pivoted. Most wolves learned from the get go to avoid lies. What was the point when everyone around them could smell the deception anyway? “Not sure it’s a good idea…”

“Is he still unconscious?” Worry filled her tone. “That’s not a good sign. I thought you’d seen improvement.” She turned her reproach-filled eyes in his direction.

“He’s not unconscious,” Brett promised. “I spoke to him earlier. He’s just exhausted and…he keeps pushing himself.” Ratting himself out to Gillian was better than seeing the disappointment in Colby’s expression. “He tried to get out of bed earlier.”

“Oh, for the love of…” Gillian began.

“…stubborn idiot patients.” The scowl she wore mirrored Gillian’s so perfectly he was hard pressed not to laugh. “He’s a horrible patient.”

“So I’ve learned. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go see what damage has been done.”

Colby waited only a beat before following right after Gillian. Biting back an oath, Brett strode after her. Why did his whole pack silence when he scowled, but one recalcitrant human blithely did what she wanted anyway?

Downstairs, Gillian already had the door open revealing the very much cast free Luc in his makeshift hospital bed. The healer didn’t slow until she reached his side.

“Hey, sunshine,” Luc began.

“Don’t even start with me. What did you do?” Professional and firm, Gillian the healer ruled when it came to treating the ill and the injured. Having been faced with the very determined healer on at least two previous occasions. Arguing with her proved pointless.

“I tested how well these bones are doing…” Pausing, he leaned forward slightly and his grin grew broad. “There’s my girl…”

“Don’t start with me.” Folding her arms, Colby echoed Gillian’s tone perfectly. The healer nodded to her. “What did you do and why aren’t you in casts anymore?”

“He had an infection,” the Willow Bend healer answered briskly. “He’ll heal better in splints where the skin can breathe and the infection can be treated
if
he follows the rules and stays in bed.”

“Come on, sweethearts. It’s boring down here and I’m good.” Though she hadn’t said anything further, Colby studied Luc with a troubled expression. It took Brett a beat to consider what she saw that he didn’t.

Luc held out his hands to Gillian. “Fine, slap me on the wrists and I’ll behave. As for you Colby, I owe you a big wet kiss.”

“Uh huh. When you can walk, you let me know and maybe I’ll let you get close enough for me to knee you in the balls.” The tart response diffused the unease in Brett’s gut.

After nudging his hands out of her way, Gillian pressed her palm to Luc’s forehead. Though she didn’t face Brett, the pull against his power was significant. Luc was his wolf. Newly returned or not, Brett had claimed him. He folded his arms and opened himself to Gillian’s call. She could have all she wanted. Fortunately, Colby didn’t intervene.

The pull eased almost as soon as it began, and the healer slid her hand down to the pulse point at Luc’s neck. “So,
doc
,” the wounded wolf emphasized the human title for the benefit of their audience. “Will I survive?”

“I haven’t decided yet.” Submissive by nature, Gillian still didn’t take guff from any dominant when she was in charge of their health. “You keep doing stupid things, and I’ll add a few weeks to your recuperation.” A heady threat, because his breaks made shifting harder and she could and would help him heal faster if she could help him shift.

Wolves could heal most general injuries with a shift. For more serious matters, they relied on their healers. In the direst of circumstances, they would need their shift, their healer and their Alpha. Luc wasn’t at dire any longer, at least as far as Brett could tell.

“How is the pain level?”

“I’ve had splinters that hurt worse.” Bravado couldn’t disguise the underlying ache or the lie in his voice. Showing off for Colby, but her troubled expression and ever-deepening frown told Brett she didn’t buy Luc’s bullshit anymore than he or Gillian did.

“You need to keep taking the Norco, at least for another couple of days…and yes, I am well aware that you don’t like the medication. I can switch you back to morphine, but the best thing for you is to heal, clear the infection and then we can work on—” Gillian paused when Luc cut his gaze toward Colby, then sighed. “We’ll work on developing a treatment plan.”

“I can manage a couple more days…”

“Shut up.” Brett tired of the brash showing off. He understood it, even respected the urge especially in front of the women. However, Luc was hurting—a wolf who belonged to Brett
hurt
and he’d had enough pain in his pack. “Do as Gillian tells you to do, smartass. Take your Norco.
Get better
. Until then you’re not allowed to be a pain in the ass.”

He’d chosen his words with specific authority. The simmering ferocity in Luc’s gaze promised retribution. Unperturbed, Brett stared at him until Luc lowered his eyes in deference. Any other time, he’d let the other man blow smoke up his ass until he was ready to cooperate. To do that, however, he had to be healthy.

“Fine.” Luc closed his eyes. “Think I can bribe you into another sponge bath, Colby?”

Brett clenched his fist, officially keeping score for the number of thumps he owed the hard head.

“Thanks, but I’ll pass. I have a party to get back to.” The hint of meanness erased the irritation Luc’s jab caused. Brett grinned at her. “You should do what the doctors tell you.”

“Promise to stick around until I can dance with you at the next party?”

“No promises. I try not to bullshit a bullshitter if I can help it.” Stiffness in her tone didn’t match the teasing of her earlier statement. “If you need me to help out, Gillian, don’t hesitate to let me know.”

“Aww, you’re abandoning me?” Pathetic and Luc were not a good fit. Nor did his soulful puppy dogging have any effect on the human he wanted to stay so desperately. The more he observed, the more intrigued Brett grew. Only one certainty did he grasp…

…she was most
definitely
not Luc’s mate. No mate, human or wolf, could be so reticent in the face of his injuries. Hell, Brett couldn’t maintain the same level of distance she currently warded herself with. The air around her seemed to vibrate with a keep away vibe. Luc frowned and Gillian edged away a pace.

“Come on, Colby.” Brett extended his hand. “If you’ll do me the honor, I’ll take you back for a real meal and something to drink.”

Instead of accepting his proffered hand, she gave Luc one more guarded look, then turned the same cautious expression on him. Bypassing him, she took the stairs two at a time.

Lowering his voice to a sub vocal the wolves would hear and she wouldn’t, he said, “I’ll be back. Behave for Gillian.”

“She’s upset,” was Luc’s only reply and Brett didn’t have to ask him who he meant. He’d already turned and started after Colby. Fortunately, she didn’t rush away the moment she stepped out into the sunshine. Instead she paced toward the hill and stopped several feet off the porch.

Closing the door behind him, Brett debated his next move. His wolf had no such illusions. She didn’t belong to Luc which meant she was fair game. They had her scent and they wanted a taste.

Though a pack party was hardly a good time to promote intimacy. Colby had the air of someone who would bolt at the first sign of trouble, and while he had no problems with the chase…it might be better if she were a willing participant than someone genuinely trying to flee.

Even the idea of her running from him for real burned in his gut and his wolf prowled ever closer to the surface. Refusing to react like a wounded animal, Brett considered what he knew of the woman. More, how much he wanted to know her.

“You really up for going back to the party or would you rather take a walk with me instead?”

“I think I—or at least you—should go back to the party. They are
your
guests.” Not really, but she had no way of knowing that.

“They’ll be fine,” he assured her, strolling toward her with the intent to coax.

“You could be right about that,” she said, arms folded as though to shield herself or remain unapproachable. He couldn’t read her scent…

The last thought stopped him dead in his tracks. Luc commented on the contradictory nature of her scent—pack versus non pack, wolf versus non wolf. While he agreed her scent was unusual and exceptionally provocative, Brett hadn’t had any trouble reading her as non pack or human…
until now.
Narrowing the gap between them, he drew in a deep breath and tasted
nothing.
No emotion. No pheromone. No taste of female.

“Colby,” he exhaled her name, and studied her. The call worked, she glanced at him and her amber eyes held anger and a hint of confusion. “Talk to me.”

“About what?”

The fuck off aura wore thin, quickly. “What’s wrong?” If she could tell him that much, then he could fix it. Still nothing about her scent reached his nose. He could smell the wolves at the house ahead of him and Owen in the distance behind him. His nose worked fine. Colby’s scent had vanished.

And
that
was impossible.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she said. “Luc is with the doctor. Your parents and his are at your house with…
everyone
else and we’re here and we’re all fine. Right?”

Zeroing in on the last part of the sentence, he considered her remote expression. “Something has upset you.” It was a gamble, but he trusted his instincts whether he could scent the fury or not.

“No,” she lied, even if he couldn’t smell it he could damn well hear it. “No I think it’s probably better if I mind my own business and just go. This was a very nice offer, but Luc is clearly fine or will be and in good hands…” She started walking and he caught her arm, tugging her around to face him.

The lack of expression and stubborn refusal to meet his gaze worried and annoyed him more than he cared to admit. “Talk to me. I can’t fix it if I don’t know what it is.”

“Is that what you do?” She squinted at him. “Fix things? You give orders? People jump to obey them. You silence fifty people like it’s no big deal and your neighborhood doctor has a mini hospital in her basement?”

“It’s part of what I do,” he could share that much. “This is my town, I grew up in it.” All true. “I know everyone here.” Also true. “Not to mention that’s my house and my property, and you’re my guest. When they get out of hand or someone is hurt, I do take charge. So yes, that’s what I do. The doctor sees patients at home and does house calls. Our closest hospital is forty-five minutes away in good weather. We take care of each other. It’s what a…” It was what a pack did. “It’s what family and friends are for.”