Shifting Dreams (2 page)

Alma Crowe, Jena’s grandmother and a member of the town council, poked into Dev and Jena’s conversation. “Nothing the tribes need to be concerned about.”

“You know we’re always available, Alma.”

She leaned down to kiss his handsome cheek. “I know. You’re a good friend for asking.”

The various tribes along the Colorado River had known about Cambio Springs for ages. But sharing a history of wanting to be left alone, they’d tacitly helped to keep the Springs a secret. And it really wasn’t that hard. What did the outside world care about a dusty desert town in the middle of nowhere? If you weren’t a resident or a friend of one, you were sure to receive a cold shoulder. Visitors, if they happened to come around, didn’t stay long.
 

Jena’s voice dropped so Missy couldn’t overhear her. “It’s probably just Matt pushing another plan to create jobs since the airfield shut down.”

Dev said, “It would be nice if one of them worked.”

The military air base that had provided half the town with jobs had shut down in the latest round of federal budget cuts, and more and more families had to move away. Moving away meant hiding. Though Jena and the rest of the town could shift at will, some of the myths were true. Come the full moon, the urge to change was almost overwhelming. Except for the oldest and strongest of them, full moons meant feathers, fur, or scales. That meant that families who moved were forced to keep secrets. And as someone who had lived “away,” Jena knew just how hard that was.

“It’ll all work out,” Alma reassured them. “It always does.”

Dev paid his bill, still glancing at Old Joe Quinn’s hat hanging on the wall behind her, and whistled as he made his way out the door. The continuous hum of conversation flowed around her as Jena went about her tasks for the day. Old men argued. Mothers fed boisterous children. Silverware clattered, the kitchen bell rang, and Jena Crowe saw it all.

She heard the door slam just as she slipped off her shoes.

“We’re home, Mom!”

Aaron, her youngest and most cheerful, thundered like a small elephant down the hall. He was the picture of her late husband, Lowell. His sandy brown hair was mussed from his bike helmet, and his shirt was sweaty. The small town school was only a few blocks from the house she’d taken over from her mom and dad, but a few blocks was enough to drench an eight-year-old in sweat in 115-degree heat.
 

“Is Low home, too?” she asked, wondering why she only heard one child. But then, Low Jr. was almost twelve and in the full swing of human and shifter hormones.
 

Aaron nodded as he gave her a quick, sweaty hug. It was a good thing she hadn’t showered from the diner yet. The Blackbird Diner closed at 3:00, which meant she got home from work right about the time the boys came home from school. Usually, her evenings would be devoted to homework, more cooking, and wrangling two active brothers, but since Ollie had asked her to help out at The Cave, her evenings had become more hectic.

Jena finally heard the door to Low’s room close.
 

Not a word of greeting to her. Jena frowned. It was typical recently. With shifter kids, who usually had their first change in puberty, adolescence took on a whole new hairy, feathery, or scaly dimension. Low was coming up on his change; she could feel it. Or, it was just wishful thinking, because for the small percentage of kids who didn’t shift, a far harsher fate awaited them.

“Aaron, homework out on the kitchen table. I’ll make you a snack as soon as I get out of the shower.” She walked down the hall to Low’s door, which was closed. She gave a quick knock and heard shuffling inside.

“What?”
 

Her eyebrows lifted at the haughty tone. Jena cleared her throat and knocked again, a little louder. Finally, Low came to the door.

“What was that?” she asked.
 

He had the manners to look embarrassed. “Sorry, I thought you were Bear. He’s been bugging me all day.”

“You shouldn’t be rude to either of us. Do you have homework?”

“Finished it in study hall. I just have a book report to do.”

“Anything interesting happen today?”

Low shrugged.

“What does that mean?” Why did her son have to be so much like… her? Jena frowned. He was, too. From the dark hair and olive skin to the sullen expression. Her mother had enjoyed that one. Jena knew she hadn’t been the easiest teenager, so it was fair. Rotten, but fair.

Low gave a tortured sigh. “Kevin shifted last night. He wasn’t in school today.”

“He did?” Her face broke into a grin. Kevin Smith was her friend Allie’s oldest son and she knew Allie had been worried sick. He was older than Low by a year and his shift was beginning to seem uncertain. Allie and Joe had been a wreck about it. “What did he—?”

“Fox, like his mom.”

“Aww.” She melted. Allie would love that. She’d married another canine shifter, so her kids would always be furry, but it was nice when a child’s natural form took after one of his parents. In time, Kevin would be able to shift into any canid he focused on, but his natural form, his first shift, would always be his most comfortable. It was hard to explain, but then, Jena rarely shifted out of her natural form.

Low still had a sullen expression on his face. “I’m never going to shift.”

Ignoring the flutter of fear in her heart, Jena patted her son’s shoulder and reassured him. “Yes, you will. Just be patient.”

“Dad didn’t.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “That doesn’t mean it will happen to you, Low. You know how rare that is.”

Rare it may have been, but for the descendants of the seven families who
didn’t
shift, life was short. Heart attack. Premature stroke. Lowell Sr., Jena’s childhood sweetheart, had been lucky to make it to his late twenties before a mysterious brain cancer had cut his life short, leaving Jena with two small boys and an aching hollow in her heart that still echoed on the loneliest nights.

Low just shrugged his thin shoulders and grabbed a book out of his backpack. “I’ll help Aaron with his homework. I know you have to get ready.”

“Thanks, kiddo.”

“Is Aunt Christy coming for dinner?”

“Yep. She’ll be here around five.”

“Cool.”

Low walked down the hall. Jena called out to him. “Low?” He turned. “I know she lets you stay up late, and I’m okay with it for you, but make sure Bear’s getting enough sleep, okay? You’re his big brother.”

He rolled his eyes. “I know, Mom.”

“Good kid. I’m gonna get clean. Then I’ll come out and get you guys a snack.”

“Thanks.”

Hours later, after a rushed dinner, Jena was primped and ready for another night of work at the bar. Her long runner’s legs were encased in skintight jeans that showed off a trim figure. She’d put on a halter-top her other best friend had convinced her to buy on a girls’ weekend in Palm Springs. It was snug in all the right places and even gave the illusion that Jena had breasts, which hadn’t really been true since the last time she’d breast-fed, but then, illusion was everything when it came to good tips.

Plus, it was just fun to get out every now and then. She never minded helping Oliver Campbell run his family’s old roadhouse on the edge of town. The Cave was an institution and drew some of the best business in the desert. It was also the unofficial boundary of the Springs’ territory. Few outsiders ever got past Ollie. They were welcome to the cold drinks and the good music, but if you weren’t one of the regulars from the Springs, the Tribes, or one of the motorcycle clubs that made The Cave their home, then don’t linger. And don’t get too familiar with the staff.

But please, tip your waitress, because Mama needs to buy two growing boys shoes before their toes poke out of the old ones.

Jena did all right. The diner was a steady business and she didn’t need much to get by. The house was family property and didn’t have a mortgage. Her car was paid for. But keeping up with everything two kids needed was still a challenge some months. And that was another reason Jena dolled up and headed out to Ollie’s. A few good tips wouldn’t hurt the bank account.

She pulled into the back and could hear the band warming up. Despite the isolated location, The Cave had become known for some of the best music in the desert. Rock, blues, old-fashioned country. If you were an independent musician looking for a gig, then The Cave was the place to play. Ollie paid the bands decent, but the money wasn’t really the draw. Saying you’d survived the tough-as-nails crowd at The Cave without bottles being thrown at you was the real prize. More than one famous musician or group had a picture on the wall that led to the bathrooms.

Not behind the bar, though. Nothing was behind the bar besides beer, liquor bottles, and the hulking form of Ollie Campbell.

“Hey, honey.” Jena slipped into Ollie’s office and put her purse on the bookcase behind his desk. Ollie’s office was very much like the man himself. Solid furniture, an eclectic mix of decor, and quiet, soundproofed walls.
 

“How was your day, Jen?”

He had a pencil in his mouth and he was chewing on it. He’d been doing that since the year before when he stopped smoking.

“It was fine. You gotta stop that, Ollie. You’re going to ruin your teeth.”

He chuckled. “Doubtful. You know what these teeth tear up on a regular basis?”

“I’m not talking Bear Ollie. I’m talking Regular Ollie and you
will
ruin your teeth if you keep doing that. Try some gum.”

“Yes, Mom.”

She whacked the back of his head. “Shut up, you’re two months older than me.”

He just gave her a quiet smile. Quiet smile. Quiet man. If you didn’t know him, Ollie Campbell might seem like a hard case. He was well over six feet tall, had dark curly hair, trimmed short, and a full beard that hid his dimples. Black and grey tattoo work decorated most of his suntanned arms and a lot of his back.

And Ollie was a giant teddy bear.

“Hey, did you hear Kevin shifted? Fox, just like Allie. Low told me he wasn’t in school today.”

Ollie’s face softened at the mention of Allie. But then, it always had. Ever since they were kids.
 

“Good.” He nodded. “That’s real good. She was worried about that. I’m sure Joe’s relieved, too.”

“Yep.” Ignoring the sorrowful tinge to his eyes, Jena fluffed her hair and put her hands on her hips. “How do I look, boss?”

He whistled. “If you weren’t like my sister, I’d hit on you. Between the band tonight and those jeans, we should both make out pretty good.”

“Good to know.”
 

Ollie rose from his desk and ushered her down the hall. “Hey, did Old Joe Quinn really run out of the diner buck-naked today?”

“He shifted and ran when I handed him the bill. His favorite hat’s nailed behind the cash register.”

Ollie chuckled and shook his head as they walked down the hall and into the bar that was growing louder by the minute.

“He won’t forget that one.”

“Neither will I.”

Chapter Two

The music was good. Loud, but good. The beer was cold, and Caleb Gilbert was just a little drunk. Not too much, but if he was going to make it back to his hotel in Indio that night, he’d better switch to coffee. Which was too bad, because the brunette behind the bar who’d been serving his drinks had grown a little more flirtatious with every beer. Or maybe that was wishful thinking.

The band on the stage was better than he’d expected. The hard rock with a bluesy edge was just what he’d been looking for when he’d been out the night before. The hotel bar didn’t have much to offer, but the boys who’d been bragging about playing The Cave had invited him to come catch their show the next night. When he’d heard the name “Cambio Springs,” Caleb knew he couldn’t pass it up.

“Another beer?” The brunette was smiling at him and he gave her his most charming, crooked grin. He hadn’t shaved that morning. Hadn’t thought he’d be trying to impress anyone, but then Caleb knew his looks weren’t what drove most women away after a few months. Looks had never been the problem. So he cocked his head at the waitress and rubbed a hand over the stubble on his jaw, then back through the curling black hair on his neck.
 

“I’d love one. Love to keep running up my tab for you, too, but I gotta drive back to Indio tonight. How about some coffee?”

“On the house.” She smiled. “And aren’t you responsible?”

“Pathologically.”

She raised her eyebrows at him before sliding away to grab a mug for coffee. She’d been drinking, too, but only a couple all night. And she bantered back and forth with the scary guy behind the bar with no hint of fear. He’d been listening to the band and watching her all night. It was the best entertainment he’d had in months.

She was damn cute. Tall and lean. Long, sexy legs and nice hips that begged for grabbing. She was no girl, but then, he wasn’t exactly a kid, either. Caleb Gilbert had more than a few miles on him. Over five hundred according to the odometer he’d reset when he left Albuquerque. Taking the job as a police chief in the Mojave Desert wasn’t what he’d planned on, but plans change, especially when life and family got messy.