Touchdown Daddy (7 page)

The werewolf looked like she hadn't slept at all. Andre rolled his shoulders as she came into the main room, having had an uncomfortable night as well. With a Wolf in his house, he didn't dare sleep. She may have looked harmless, but Wolves were deadly monsters with no honor. If the Locke family didn't prove that, nothing would.

But the dark circles under Mary's eyes, and the uneasy way she moved past him, rigid as though trying to stop herself from shivering, made him think she just may be the exception to the rule. She was frightened, but not hostile. His clothes stretched over her body, emphasizing her shape, may have helped, and he admired her backside as she went to the cupboards.

"Don't you have any clean dishes?" she turned, cheeks turning pink when she looked directly at him.

"I don't have much need of them." Andre suddenly felt very self-conscious about the state of his home. He hadn't thought much about it the previous night, but now he wished he had tidied up a little during the night. Grunting, he shoved his hands into his pockets, and then removed them in case she tried to attack. "I know you're a werewolf."

The color drained from her face. Her eyes widened, chest heaving shallow breaths, and pressed herself back against the counter. "What are you going to do?"

Andre tilted his head. He didn't like the way she trembled with fear and was overcome by the desire to comfort her. A foolish, dangerous notion, he knew. But if he was right and she was running from her community, then perhaps they could be helpful to one another. "Your father is Paul Locke. He would kill me in a heartbeat if he knew I was here."

Mary opened her mouth as if to protest, but dropped her gaze. "His parents were killed by Bears."

And that justifies painting us all with one stroke?
He eyed her, shaking off the guilt that he did the same–but he wouldn't kill pups! "Whatever his reasons, I cannot allow your werewolf pack to know I am here."

"Why do you live so close to us, then?"

The answer was on his lips, but then Mary looked back up at him. There was such innocence in her gaze, and even with her fear, there was a measure of trust in her. She believed that he wasn't going to hurt her, even if she wasn't sure why. He knew that just from looking at her. He swallowed hard. He couldn’t tell her. "I've lived here for many years. I'll not be chased away by a werewolf. But I can't let you go. Not yet, at least."

"I won't tell anybody," she started, and he shook his head, cutting her off.

"I would prefer not to tie or lock you up, Mary. But I will do what I need to in order to ensure my safety. Understood?"

There was nothing else to say. Andre grabbed the car keys Mary had left on the table the previous night and stalked out the door, leaving her alone inside. If she was going to remain with him, he would bring her car to the cabin. Hopefully, the Locke family hadn't found it yet.

***

Soon after Andre left the cabin, Mary heard a tractor engine roar to life. The snow had stopped sometime during the night, leaving everything blanketed. Andre, on a John Deere, was clearing out a path back up the gravel road. She watched him for a bit, but when she was certain that he wasn't going to come back in, she grabbed her blanket bundle and looked through it. Her money was still there, which was a relief. She couldn't have gotten her car out of the snowbank even if Andre had left her keys, so she didn't waste time thinking about it.

He had taken the keys to his truck as well, so in the meantime, all she could do was make herself some food and wait for a chance to get away. Her dress was still wet, so she spread it on the floor in front of the fire to dry.

The still and quiet of the cabin was a little unnerving. Mary was so used to constant noise and work that she really didn't know what to do with herself while she waited for the opportunity to make her move. Part of her wanted to stay. It was a cozy cabin, and in the daylight, Mary saw it had a lot of potential if only it was a little tidier.

She would have been tempted to blame the state of things on Andre being a man, but she knew better. None of her brothers were this messy! Perhaps it was because they knew she controlled what food they put into their bodies, and didn't want to face her wrath over laundry. Maybe they
would
get this messy without her there.
No, it's because Andre is a Bear.

But that didn't seem right either.

Mindful of the tractor's rumbling, Mary returned to the bedroom. She hadn't seen them the previous night, but one whole wall was dedicated to books. They were in every size she could imagine, and she chose one at random. She might as well be doing something while she waited. Books were a rare treat, and she soon found herself immersed.

Her rumbling stomach was what broke her from the written spell hours later. The tractor's noise had stopped, and when Mary looked out the window again, she found Andre was nowhere in sight. She stepped outside and called his name, but there was no answer.

Not knowing how much time she had, she quickly prepared to leave, chewing on some dry bread as she stuffed some crackers and her dress into her blanket bundle. Before she took off her borrowed clothing, she checked the windows again to make sure Andre wasn't close by.

The air felt light and fresh, and her Wolf’s nostrils flared as they sucked it in greedily. The scent of Bear was heavy, but she found she didn't mind. It was almost a pleasant scent. Pine was sharp and crisp, and as she rotated her ears, she picked up the soft bleats of sheep. Her head swiveled. Behind the cabin was a little barn, probably where the animals were housed. She'd never thought of a Bear as a farmer before. For some reason, she thought Andre must hunt all through the winter.

I wonder if he hibernates.

She shook her head, dispelling the thought. It didn't matter. She had to get out of here before her family found out where she was and made her go home. How would her father punish her for her disobedience? She didn't want to find out.

Still, she was strangely reluctant to leave the cozy cabin and the Bear who had rescued her from the blizzard. She would have liked to have looked into his eyes one last time.

The pine trees were heavy with snow, branches that normally pointed upright almost flat from the weight on them. It would be a perfect day for playing goose hunt with her younger siblings–Mary bit back a pang of regret. She had to look after herself now!
They probably won't even miss me.

She rounded a corner, and there was Andre. He stood in the middle of the road, bare-chested, looking godlike with the snowy background. Mary stopped in her tracks.

"I told you I can't let you leave."

It was all he needed to say. Mary's ears flattened against her head, and she turned.

A sudden thought occurred to her – she was
naked
! Even with her thick coat of fur, she was naked, and he was looking right at her! She tucked her tail between her legs, pressing it flat against her belly, and glanced back. Andre looked like he was laughing, and she scampered back along the road, embarrassment burning in her cheeks.

***

Andre didn't follow to make sure she returned to the cabin. Or at least, she didn't think he did. She waited a while in the building, keeping the fire going, but after pacing for several hours, she couldn't do anything anymore and got to work.

By the time dusk had fallen, she had washed all the dishes and had started on the laundry. Andre didn't have a machine, but he did have a large bathing tub in the bathroom, and plenty of bars of soap. Mary started with the shirts, scrubbing one at a time before wringing them out and spreading them on the chairs and table to dry. After that, she washed all the towels, realizing that she was going to want to bathe herself before too long, and needed something clean to dry off with.

It was dusk before Andre returned to the cabin. Mary savored his look of surprise as he surveyed her work. While the clothes she had been washing were still damp and spread everywhere, there was a neatness now that had been lacking before.

He looked under the table and frowned. "Where are all my pants?"

"In the bathroom by the sink. It's more efficient to keep the clean clothes separated from the dirty ones." Mary hid a smirk as she added another log to the fire and stepped to the stove to stir the bubbling pot on it. "Soup's ready. Are you hungry?"

Andre stared at her as if soup was a totally foreign concept.  Mary cleared an area on the table and dished out two bowls of soup.

"Well, I am glad you're keeping yourself busy," he said stiffly. "Tomorrow I'll show you where the woodshed is—"

"No need. I found it earlier." Mary gestured at the neat stack of logs she had put in the little alcove next to the fireplace. "I also saw that you have four sheep and a goat. Your ewe looks like she's about ready to give birth."

Andre nodded, cautiously sipping a spoonful of soup.

Mary watched him a moment, then took a deep breath. "Andre, I know that you're afraid that I will tell my family about you, but I won't. The truth is, I wasn't going to the city to visit a grandmother. I was running away."

He set his spoon down. "I thought you might be. You don't like your husband, then?"

Heat flared in her cheeks. "I'm not married."

Andre's eyes widened as if he couldn't believe it. "No? Why not?"

"I…" Mary's chin dropped, and she gazed at the carrot bits in the soup. "Nobody wants me. I'm not pretty."

"I wouldn't say that."

"You mean I could be pretty." She'd heard it often enough.
You would be so pretty if you just dropped a few pounds.
Mostly from her mother. But whenever she tried, whether eating less or waking up extra early so she could go for a walk before her chores began, she just ended up exhausted all the time, and hating her body even more. She had resigned herself to being 'almost' pretty long ago, preferring to feeling healthy enough to do her chores.

"No, I mean you
are
pretty. You're beautiful."

Mary's eyes widened. She didn't know how to respond, so she bent over her soup, cheeks growing hot.

"The roads are too dangerous for the time being," Andre said suddenly. "We're not on a major highway, so the state does little more than scrape the snow off the asphalt. But once the snow clears and winter is over, I'll take you to the city so you can fly away."

Mary's eyes widened. "Really?"

He nodded. "Really. In the meantime, I think I might enjoy having a werewolf around if you cook like this for every meal."

Her heart glowed at the compliment. "Oh, I can," she promised. "If there's one thing I am good at, it's cooking."

"Good," Andre smiled at her. "Good."

She felt herself beam in return. Maybe she would like living here after all.

Two weeks after Andre first brought her to his home, their meat supply began to run low. Andre told Mary he was going hunting, and she assured him that she could take care of everything just fine for a day. He disappeared into the forest with his Bear and didn't look back once, trusting her to stay.

Secretly, Mary was glad that he would be out for longer than normal–she needed to string a clothesline across the main room so that she could finally wash up the blankets and pillows. She was still sleeping in the bed though she had given up several of the blankets to try to make him a little more comfortable on the floor beside the fire. Once she almost suggested they share, but was too uncertain of herself.

"First things first," she told herself as she brought in lots of extra wood to keep the cabin nice and hot. "Blankets and sheets, then scrub the floors and wash down the cupboards."

Though she had smelled no rodents when she searched the cabin with her Wolf, when making breakfast that morning, she found evidence that mice had been in the cupboards at one time. While she didn't mind mice, she didn't enjoy the thought of their filth getting into her food, and was determined to sanitize everything.

It took several hours to wash the bedding and clean the floors and cupboards. By the time she was done, Mary's hands were dry and chapped, but she felt a surge of pride surveying what she had accomplished. Back home whenever she finished a lot of work she just felt tired and cranky, but here, though she was physically exhausted, there was excitement bubbling in her that made her want to continue working and have something to be proud of.

Maybe this is how it feels to get a job done in your own home,
she mused.
My home.

Yes, she could definitely think of this place as home. Mary smiled to herself. Once she was away, she'd have to find a little farm of her own.

Once she was away. Her smile faded. She glanced around at the little room, the clock on the mantle, the sink that was just a little too high for her, the cupboards she had to stand on a chair to reach, the blankets draped across the ropes she had strung crisscrossed across the room.

I don't want to leave.
She liked it here, and she liked Andre. As gruff as he was, he was always polite, always complimented and thanked her for her work, and at nights, if she shyly asked him what a word meant in a book she was reading, he answered without any derision.

"Well, I have to. I can't stay here. Not with a Bear. He doesn't want me to stay anyway."

Tears pricked her eyes, and she scrubbed them away angrily, hurrying to the bedroom for some books. There was one in particular that her father had absolutely forbidden her to read when she first saw it in the library, and now she wanted to know why.

Around five, it began to darken outside. As Andre hadn't yet returned, Mary put supper in the oven and went out to feed the animals.

Inside the barn was warmer than outside it, but it was still chilly. Mary shivered, glad that Andre had old jackets hanging on the barn door. She pulled on one that was too tight across her shoulders and marveled – how had a man the size of a Bear ever fit this? It helped her stay warm, though, and that was the important thing.

She had already fed the sheep and goat, the only animals in the barn, spread out new straw for their bedding when she realized something was wrong. Only three sheep were eating.

The pregnant ewe was laying on her side away from the other animals. Her sides heaved, and spasms shook her intermittently. Mary climbed over the side of the stall, rushing to the ewe's side. The other sheep and goat huddled together at the far end, whether for warmth or because they were afraid of her, she didn't know.

Her breath wasn't puffing out visibly, but Mary was struck by the thought that it was far too cold for a lamb in this old barn. She patted the ewe's head and shrugged off her jacket, laying it over the animal. She had never helped with an animal birth, but she'd witnessed all her siblings be born, helped the midwife occasionally, and it couldn't be that much different.

Could it?

***

The hunt was unsuccessful, and Andre prowled around the forest longer than he intended, walking off the growl in his chest before he returned home to Mary. It was always frustrating when he couldn't find anything to hunt, and he needed meat! The beans Mary had begun to cut their meals with were tasty but unsatisfying.

His heart lifted when he emerged in the clearing where his little log cabin stood. The sight of home, and knowing it wasn't empty, cheered him up immensely. He hadn't felt happy to come home since he lost his wife and daughter all those years ago.

As he strode to the barn to dress before heading to the cabin itself, he could smell something delicious cooking, and his stomach rumbled. He liked having Mary around, and not just because she cooked. He liked the way she laughed, the way she listened to him when he talked, and her never-ending questions when she read his books.

She had such a thirst for knowledge, and he cursed her father for preventing his eldest daughter from getting all the education she desired. Locke had a lot of sins to his name, but to treat his own child as a slave? It was unthinkable.

But he knew why he could never ask her to stay. She deserved more freedom than he could offer.

When he entered the cabin, a waft of smoke blew into his eyes, making them water. Andre coughed, reeling back. The black fumes billowed from the oven, filling the room. He rushed forward, getting caught in ropes that were spider-webbed through the room.

"I thought I turned it off!" Mary cried, slipped under his arm. She shot towards the oven, yanking the door open. Black smoke belched into her face. As she dragged a roaster pan from inside it, Andre heard something bleating.

His head swiveled, and his eyes locked on a sheep lying next to the fireplace. Its little lamb stood next to its head, still slick from being born, and it 'baaed' as its mother licked it. Towels were nested around the mother and lamb, stained from birthing fluids. A pile of books was scattered over the table.

"I'm sorry," Mary said.

He turned back to her and saw tears running down her face. Her lip wobbled as she held the roaster pan. Some black mass was inside it.

Mary set the pan down, and a sob shook her shoulders. "I'm sorry."

Andre found himself laughing. It was all so surreal. Mary's perfect homemaking skills failing so dramatically reminded him that life was messy and complicated, but somehow everything that was in this room, from the bedclothes getting saturated with smoke to the sheep that would have been just fine in the barn, to Mary staring at him as though he had lost his mind, everything was far more perfect than he could imagine.

"Andre?" She cautiously touched his shoulder.

He didn't know why he did it, but he suddenly wanted to kiss her, and so he did. She was warm in his arms, her voluminous body pressed against his, so soft, so real. His hands tangled into her beautiful black hair, and her arms wound around his chest. Heat rose in him, a spark forming between their lips as she closed her eyes and melted against him.

***

Every inch of skin that touched him exploded with fireworks. Mary pressed herself deeper into Andre's embrace. She had given up her dream that anybody would ever hold like this, arms around her so tightly as though he would never let her go. And yet here she was, in the arms of a man who was more beautiful than she ever hoped in her wildest dreams. Her whole body seemed to glow as his mouth pressed her lips open. Tongues danced. She clung to him, feeling her Wolf howling in delight, her chest so full she thought she might burst.

Abruptly he pulled away.

Mary blinked, reeling, as Andre backed away from her. She panted, not understanding what had happened. For a moment she thought she had imagined it all; the kiss, the passion.

Andre shook his head. "You can sleep by the fire tonight. I need a better sleep so I can hunt properly tomorrow."

He yanked the nearest blanket off the clothesline and stalked into the bedroom, closing it with a solid thump. Mary stood in the smoky room, the chill of winter slowly replacing the warmth of the fire. She hurried to the door and closed it before she sagged against the wall. A trembling hand pressed to her lips, her head light and dizzy.

What happened?