The Wolf on the Hill (10 page)

He snuggled into the pillow and let pictures of Mia brighten his darkness.

 
The black wolf lurked in the recess of his mind, waiting to attack. She smiled and laughed, dancing on the porch. The sound of claws tapping on the wooden walkway approached from behind her. The wolf pounced. Mia screamed.

“No!” Caleb sprang up, perspiration soaking his skin.

“Are you okay?” Mia placed her hand on his forehead.

“You’re here? You’re safe?” It took a moment for his scrambled thoughts to untangle into some semblance of sense.

“I’m fine. It’s you I’m worried about.” Mia pressed a cold flannel against his burning cheeks.

“Me?” The room started to spin, and, content she was safe, Caleb slumped back onto the bed.

“You’re sick.”

“It’s been said…” He closed his eyes and simply enjoyed her company.

“No. I mean really sick. I think you’ve come down with whatever Emily has.”

Snatches of muted conversations replayed in his head, memories drifting back to haunt him like the morning after a heavy drinking session. “Who was here?”

“Naomi found you when you didn’t come down for breakfast. Rory wasn’t in a fit state to help either, so she called me. The doctor says it’s a virus. It took some persuading on our part that your temperature didn’t warrant a hospital stay without revealing the whole ‘wolves run hot’ deal, I can tell you. But he agreed to let you stay put providing you get lots of rest and drink plenty of fluids.” She reached over to the bedside table to pour him a glass of water, which he accepted with shaking hands. All the after-effects of a hangover without a drop of alcohol crossing his lips.

“Rory’s sick too?” His foggy brain finally caught up with the whole conversation.

“He’s denying it, of course, but his complexion is the same grey-green as yours, and he can barely lift a coffee cup.” Mia’s depiction of a frail Rory was akin to admitting that Santa Claus doesn’t exist. It took away some of the magic in the legend.

“And Emily?” If the illness was capable of rendering both he and the burly policeman into pathetic mortals, he pitied the child a great deal.

“A bit listless, but she’s sleeping it off. It looks like you’re all quarantined here for the foreseeable future.”

“Suits me. I don’t mind being holed up with my sexy nurse.” He waited for her to squeeze in beside him. They may as well make the most of it, even if Mia would probably have to do most of the work until he regained his energy.

“Uh-uh. You are quarantined, not me, and your disease-ridden body isn’t coming near me any time soon.” The bed sprung up as she got to her feet.

“Don’t go.” He grabbed her wrist, wanting her to play nurse for a while longer.

“You need to rest, and I need a cuppa.” A swift kiss to his brow gave him some comfort before she departed and left him to drift back into an easy sleep.

“How’s the patient?” Naomi set a mug in front of her. With a day spent stressing out over others, they were both powered solely by coffee, and Mia could have done with something stronger.

“Still a bit loopy, but he’ll be okay.”

When Naomi had phoned to say he’d collapsed, Mia had gone through a panic she never wanted to experience again. The fear for his welfare, for her sanity if he came to any harm, suddenly eclipsed her petty troubles with her parents, although she may have overplayed her role in Rory’s convalescence in order to explain her absence to them. Having dropped everything, and everyone, to race to his bedside, it was clear that she was in deeper than she’d ever anticipated.

“How’s Em?” She needed to focus on something other than the mess of her emotions.

“I got her to take some liquid paracetamol that seems to be bringing her temperature down at least. She’s bundled up on the sofa watching cartoons now, so I think she’s coming around.” The worry lines on Naomi’s face had begun to smooth out.

“It’s probably only a twenty-four hour bug. They’ll all be grand by tomorrow.” Mia didn’t know how else to comfort her friend when she didn’t go in for PDAs. Words were so much more difficult than a good old hug.

“Poor Rory and Caleb. It’s my fault they’re sick too. If only I hadn’t been so stubborn about taking charge of the delivery and just picked Emily up myself, none of this would have happened.” It was typical of her boss to assume responsibility for a situation no one could have seen coming.

“They’ll get over it. They’re strapping big men, even if they are weak as puppies right now. What I don’t understand is how hard this virus has hit them. Shifters aren’t usually so prone to these things.” She didn’t enjoy seeing her brother and lover so vulnerable, one little bit. Given a choice, she’d much rather have the overbearing, smart-arses back to full strength.

“Maybe it’s a rare strain that they, we, haven’t encountered before.” Naomi downed the coffee, still too hot for Mia’s palate, and left the conversation to rinse her cup.

“Is Caleb awake yet?” Rory staggered into the kitchen, wearing nothing but his boxers and holding onto the walls for support.

“I’ve spoken to him and he’s under the same orders as you. Get back to bed!” Mia shooed him back towards the bedroom, ducking under one beefy arm to prop him up.

“I have things to do.” He slumped against her.
Please God don’t fall on me!

“Rory, you can barely walk. I don’t think you’ll be much use to anyone for the next couple of days.” This role reversal made her appreciate how much effort it took to look after a sibling, and he’d been doing it his entire life. Perhaps she
was
the millstone in their relationship, and not the other way around. He’d put his life on hold to chaperone her through hers.

“Maybe I’ll go back to bed for an hour and see how I feel.” His bare feet trailed on the carpet and Mia struggled with the heavy load.

“Good idea, Einstein.” The sarcasm was lost on her zoned-out brother, but it made her feel better to keep things normal.

Naomi came to her rescue and took some of the burden on her shoulders. Between them they manoeuvred his bulk into his room, vacated by the previous patient, and laid him on the bed.

“Thanks, hon.” Eyes already closed, he mumbled, and his soft snores followed them out of the door.

Their laughter masked their concern for all involved in the outbreak.

“What will we do about work?” They couldn’t both stay here and let Naomi neglect her business indefinitely.

She peered around the door to check on Emily and closed it quietly behind her. “I don’t want to leave her until I can see an improvement. Could you open up for me, Mia?”

“Sure.” It was a huge step for Naomi to ask for her help. Mia plastered on a smile, and, with all her instructions memorised, she set off to the pub. Even though her heart remained by Caleb’s bedside.

* * * *

The day dragged slower than a tortoise on muscle relaxants. Any notion that work would take her mind off the patients evaporated with the constant questions and best wishes from the patrons. Naomi and Rory’s simultaneous disappearance had caused quite a stir.

“Have the young lovers done a moonlit flit?”

“No such scandal, I’m afraid. Emily and Rory are down with a virus. Caleb too. Naomi’s looking after them all,” she repeated for the hundredth time, counting down the minutes until someone relieved her of her duties, so she could join them.

Although she wanted an hourly update on their condition, she refrained from telephoning in case she woke anyone. She didn’t even have her mobile to text, since she’d left the house in such a flap that morning. The minute hand on the clock above the bar dragged slowly. When the phone rang out the back, Mia sprinted to answer it.

“Hello?”

“How are things?” Naomi’s voice on the other end improved her mood no end.

“Ticking along. How are the patients?” Impatience fizzed in her veins waiting for news.

“Caleb and Rory are still asleep, but Emily’s wide awake. She’s managed to eat a piece of toast and drink some milk, so I think she’s on the mend.”

“Thank goodness.” Mia wanted to reach down the phone and give her a great big hug whether she wanted it or not.

“Since Emily’s on her feet, maybe we should do a swap for a while?” Naomi echoed her own thoughts.

“Certainly. We can take it turnabout between the bar and the sick house.” Keeping all bases covered. “And before you ask, yes, I’ll call you every fifteen minutes with an Emily progress check.”

Like a greyhound out of a race trap, Mia bolted as soon as Naomi appeared at The Dog. It eased her conscience, along with her worry levels, to be close to Caleb and Rory, even if she could do nothing to improve their condition.

* * * *

Rory struggled back to bed when she arrived to take over his child-minding duties. As reported, Emily now toddled about quite happily, though her cheeks remained on the rosy side.

“What are we going to do with you, missy?” Mia swung the child up into her arms and was presented with a half-chewed picture book. “Ah, I see. Story time.”

After regaling her with tales of woodland animals, complete with character voices, Mia tucked Emily under the duvet on the sofa. Her giggles and hugs had been a welcome sign of her continued recovery, a relief to Mia on behalf of her friend and as a forecast for Caleb and Rory’s condition.

Once Emily was settled, she went to check on the boys’ progress. Rory was flaked out on top of his bed, although he did look more human than reptilian today. On opening the door to Caleb’s room she was shocked to find the rumpled covers missing her sick puppy.

“You looking for me?” The sound of him alone raised the hairs on the back of her neck.

“Yeah. If you’re feeling better then perhaps I should go home.” Regardless that his breath smelt all minty fresh, and the scent of soap lingered on his skin, it wasn’t the time or the place for her to start getting all het up again.

“Stay.” The simple request provided reason enough for her to continue her vigil, but the slight buckling of his knees as he entered the room sealed the deal.

“All right, but only if you get back into bed until you are one hundred per cent better.” It was easier to resist him when he still resembled a foal trying to get used to his legs.

“Yes, ma’am.” His obedience confirmed there was a way to go in his recovery, when he was too tired to try anything on with her, but obviously even just showering had taken an effort. She appreciated the sentiment and looked forward to making up for lost time.

Mia dodged an attempt to kiss her as she plumped his pillows and fixed the sheets around him. “We can’t afford for any more of us to get sick. Naomi and I are both run ragged between here, The Dog, and nipping home for stuff we need.”

“I know. I appreciate it. You know, I could get used to having someone looking after me.”

“The sooner you’re back on your feet, the better for us all.” Being so intimate with him when he was naked and vulnerable had her tied in knots. Each time she fed or bathed him, he stole another piece of her heart. Every day she spent with him was a step closer to a broken heart.

Chapter Eight

“I’m surprised you don’t just move in.” Forty-eight hours later, Rory wandered into the kitchen, past where Mia sat at his table, and went straight to the fridge.

“What makes you say that?” She screwed up her nose as he gulped orange juice from the carton. He had a point. The phone calls from her mother checking in on her every five minutes were getting beyond a joke.

“You know as well as I do Caleb’s fine. You two are milking it so you can spend more time together.” He wiped his mouth and helped himself to a slice of the toast she’d buttered for Caleb.

Too stunned to move, she let him snaffle a second piece. “Wh-what?”

“Mia, I’ve known from the minute you clapped eyes on each other you were both smitten. I don’t know what all the secrecy is in aid of.” He added a banana to his breakfast on the go, with his appetite apparently fully restored.

With no forthcoming lecture or judgement coming from her brother, she didn’t bother to deny it. “It’s nothing serious. You heard him, he’s selling up and moving on, remember.” Saying it aloud actually physically hurt. She doubled over as pains shot through her abdomen.

“If that happens, I’ll strip naked and dance through the pub.” He reached for the last piece of toast.

This time she did slap his hand away. “Eww! I hope you’re right. For the sake of public decency, if nothing else.”

“Honestly, Mia. Anyone with eyes can see how he feels about you.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Rory’s reaction was part of the reason they’d kept this secret. She’d expected if he'd found out to be locked away in a tower somewhere, guarded by slavering beasts, with Caleb’s body parts dispatched to the four corners of the earth.

Rory fixed her with his serious older brother stare. “It has fuck all to do with me, Mia. But, for the record, I think Caleb’s a decent guy.”

This blessing of sorts showed how much she’d misjudged her brother’s attitude towards her. All this time she’d thought his presence too stifling in her life. She could see now that it had been nothing more than him looking out for his little sis while their parents had concentrated on their careers and social standing.

“What about Mum and Dad? They’ll go mental if they find out about Caleb, when they’re still pushing Robbie at me.” Their lofty dreams for a wealthy son-in-law, with Mia as a kept woman, were a far cry from her ideal. All she wanted was her independence to work where she wanted, and be with a man she loved. Caleb.

“For fuck’s sake, Mia! You’re a grown woman, and as soon as you start acting that way, and making decisions for yourself, the sooner they’ll treat you like one. Mum will keep trying to run your life for as long as you let her. I thought, when you packed in your studies and dumped Robbie, you were finally standing up for yourself. But you’ve fallen back into that baby of the family role, where we all think we have to take care of you. As for Caleb, I’d vouch for him over that pussy Robbie any day of the week.” The brutally honest outburst, so uncharacteristic of her stoic brother, left her open-mouthed and struggling for words to retaliate. Rory’s home truths stung more than she cared to admit. As always, he was annoyingly accurate in his assessment.