Wolver's Gold (The Wolvers) (23 page)

“I’ve run out of buttons and bows.”

His hands flowed over her hips and down to the hem of her gown where they began to retrace their route upward again, only this time, they were beneath the gown, the rough skin of his palms slowly travelling over the unexplored territory of her calves and knees, lifting the nightgown higher and higher.

This was something she’d worried about; her ultimate exposure. She’d never been naked in front of another person, except for her mother
, and only when she was a pup. Her worry was for nought.

Again, her wolf came to her rescue. Preening, the she-wolf reminded her of what she was.
Strong. Beautiful. Wolver.

Rachel’s
body thrilled to the pressure of his head against her belly as McCall bent to his task and she longed for the feel of his flesh against hers. She was ready to raise her hands over her head to be rid of the billowing cloth that stood in his way, but he stopped at her knees where he fingered the lace edging of her drawers.

“Bloomers?” he chuckled. It sounded deeper and huskier than his laughter before and he cle
ared his throat as if it bothered him.

The thought of her nakedness had not embarrassed her, but this talk of unmentionables did. Her wolf rolled and howled at the ridiculousness of it and seeing the truth in its reaction, Rachel started to chuckle, herself. It, too, was deeper than normal and even to her own untried ears,
she sounded sensual, and dare she think it, sexy. She drew in her breath and said what she thought instead of what she should.

“They’re drawers, not bloomers. Think of them as another present, Mr. McCall, tied
up with a little pink bow.”

“Aren’t you full of surprises,” he laughed, “But I have other gifts to play with first.”

Much to her disappointment, his hands skimmed over her thighs and knees, lingered for a moment at the bow in question and moved on to raise the nightgown up and up and over her head.

He stared at her body without touching and Rachel wasn’t sure if that was bad or good, until McCall swallowed hard, let out the breath he was holding and moistened his lips. She was pretty sure that was good, but didn’t know what, if anything, to do about it, so she stood quietly before him with her hands gripping his shoulders to keep her body from trembling and exposing her fear. What if she’d misinterpreted his reaction?

Her wolf, having a greater understanding of man’s basic nature, thought this was wildly amusing, too. And once again, her wolf was right.

McCall’s eyes travelled up the length of her body, lingering for an additional moment at her breasts before continuing on to her face.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered hoarsely, “As beautiful as I imagined.”

His hands went to her breasts, gently kneading and molding them with his fingers, bringing her already taut nipples to sharp peaks. Her body arched, pressing against his hands, wanting more of what they were offering. The heat flowing through her body began to coalesce, first in the pit of her stomach and then moving downward. She threw back her head with a sighing breath of pleasure as moistness pooled between her legs.

“You like that,” McCall said with a satisfied laugh. “And how about this?”

Fingers and thumbs lightly pinched and rolled her nipples.

“Oh, yes,” she answered without thinking or shame, and placed her hands over his, urging him to do it again.

“Ah, Miss Kincaid, we’re going to get along,” he laughed and then he was standing over her, kissing her again and her hands were roaming over his body in their own quest for knowledge.

The more she kissed and explored, the warmer she grew, and the more of him she wanted. She liked the mountainous terrain of his shoulders, loved the tapering flatlands of his back to his waist and narrow hips. She adored the firm, round rise of his buttocks under her hands. She did not like the coarse cotton cord of the trousers that presented a frustrating obstacle in her trek of discovery. Her fingers worked inside the band, but she couldn’t make them budge from his hips. Rachel mewled her frustration into his mouth.

Disengaging from the kiss, McCall laughed. “In a bit of a hurry, are we?”

Rachel didn’t think it was funny. Her wolf was in a frenzy and she was not far behind. She wanted, wanted, wanted…

“Take them off and take me,” she ordered, which made him laugh harder.

He clucked his tongue. “Demanding and bitchy is not very ladylike, Miss Kincaid,” he teased, but began to unbutton his trousers just the same.

Ladylike behavior was the last thing on Rachel Kincaid’s mind. He barely had the trousers to his knees when she pushed him back, bouncing him onto the bed. He was
still kicking his boots off when she crawled up his body and straddled him. She was hot and burning inside and possessed with an overwhelming desire to put that fire out and McCall was the only one to do it. Her wolf was howling inside, urging her on with silent direction as to what she must do.

Without hesitation she followed her wolf, releasing McCall’s throbbing erection from the confines of his own unmentionables which, briefly registering in her feverish mind, were made of black silk.

McCall was laughing and making a half-hearted attempt to stop her assault. “Wait! Wait! You’re not ready,” he protested. “And you might want to remove… You can’t…”

She didn’t let him finish. Her response was to repeat what she had told him earlier. “Don’t tell me what I can and cannot do,” she growled.

Grasping his erection firmly and feeling the pulsing heat of it, she knew, knew, knew that his fire would quench hers. She lifted herself up and plunged down, down, down. An approving sigh escaped her open mouth. Such a satisfying feeling, to be filled like this, but it wasn’t enough.

McCall’s shout of surprise barely registered before she began to move. Up and down, up and down, harder and harder, faster and faster
, the movement of his hips in tandem with hers. Hands using his shoulders for leverage, her hair fell forward in dishevelment across his chest. Her breasts bounced with the movement of her hips and one look at McCall’s face told her he was enjoying it, too. It wouldn’t have mattered. It was too late to stop. Years of pent up tension were crying out for release, but Rachel couldn’t find what she was looking for and snarled in frustration.

And then McCall’s hand was there, between her legs, his finger dancing over the swollen little nub at her center and the fire inside her climbed higher and higher until it exploded from her like skyrockets on the Fourth of July. Her whole being shattered into a thousand spiraling stars and then
, panting uncontrollably, she collapsed forward onto McCall’s chest where he held her in his arms. The fireworks burned away, leaving behind a most satiating feeling of contentment and warmth.

When all the sparkling parts of her were gathered once more into her body, she realized McCall’s hips were still moving against her and she began to move her hips in rhythm to his body’s demands.

“My turn, Red,” he whispered with only a hint of laughter in his voice.

He rolled with her until she was on her back and, seating her legs around his hips he began to ride her as she had ridden him, seeking that same pleasure. She matched him, curling her body and rising to meet him, fascinated by the look on his face as he thrust into her.

A shocked little “Oh!” escaped as her body’s heat began to rise again in response to his thrusts. McCall’s eyes opened at the sound and they watched each other as the fuse was relit between them. He reached his peak first. He threw back his head and opened his mouth as if to howl with the force of it, but the only howl she heard, came from inside him.

Rachel distinctly heard his wolf’s howl and then her wolf joined in as Rachel’s body reached a second peak and she exploded again.

McCall’s face was buried in the crook of her neck and his body covered hers. She liked the feel of his weight against her, chest to chest and belly to belly. She felt no shame or embarrassment at her nakedness or his. She would have been quite content to remain here with her arms around him forever and ever.

His body began to shake and his lips sputtered laughter before planting a kiss on her neck. He shifted his weight to his forearms to look down at her.

“That’ll teach me to never judge a book by its cover.” He controlled his voice, but his eyes were still laughing. “You’re a helluva cowgirl.”

“Is that a compliment, Mr. McCall?” she asked, because she really wasn’t sure.

“Yippee-ki-yay.” His mouth joined his eyes and he roared, rolling onto his back and taking her with him. “I think we’re friendly enough to cut out the Mister and Miss, don’t you? I mean, how close do I have to be before you call me plain McCall?” he asked and then he frowned. “And what should that tell me about John Washington?”

“I will continue to call you Mr. McCall and I will remain, Miss Kincaid,” she told him, firm in her conviction that this was the best road to take. Though in her mind and heart, she would always think of him as Challenger, not only because it was his name, but because in meeting him she had met the challenge within herself. She’d come to
a crossroads and had chosen which way she should go.

“Why?” he asked, lifting his head from the bed to look at her. He was clearly not in agreement with her decision.

“You said it yourself. What we have here cannot last. When the time comes, I’d rather not have people eye me in speculation, nor do I wish it to trouble the Mate.”

Though she was resigned to the inevitable conclusion of the affair, she couldn’t bring herself to say ‘
your Mate’. Those words would take a long, long time before she could say them aloud without pain. Thinking of the new Mate made her think of the current.

“What will happen to her?” she asked at the same time he repeated.

“The Mate?”

“Yes. What will happen to L
enora when all is said and done?”

“Just how much do you know?” he asked quietly.

“I told you before. I know what you and John Washington have planned and, after coming to realize what has been done to my pack, I see the need for change. If this be treason,” she quoted, “make the most of it.” She closed her eyes and swallowed. “I’m also aware of the consequences should you fail.”

“Failure is not an option,” McCall returned with a quote of his own
, though Rachel had no knowledge of its origin. He kissed her forehead. “Besides, I never fail.”

Rachel opened her eyes. “Not even with the Alpha’s daughter?” she asked with a little mischief in her tone, payback for all his teasing.

“How did you…? Never mind.” He answered his own question. “Eustace. That was not a failure. The lady in question is now happily mated to the Alpha of some tiny pack in the Ozarks. We never even met.”

“Then how…?”

“Enough,” he said, looking very serious, “I have more important things to discuss.” His hand slid down her back to her buttocks where he found the open center seam of her drawers. “Holy hell! You sly little minx, you.”

Rachel gave his chest a playful punch. “I am not a minx and there’s nothing sly about it. They’re made that way for convenience sake.”
Shifting yards of skirt and petticoats to use the ladies’ facilities was no easy matter.

“I’ll say it’s convenient.
Split crotch panties, Victorian style. Damn!”

She was suddenly on her back again and McCall was working his way down her body to the little pink bow.

“There’s this question to which I need an answer,” he grinned as he reached the open seam. “Are you red all over?”

“Mr. McCall!”

Chapter 22

Bertie took her apron from the peg and tied it about her waist to the foot-tapping tune her boss was humming in the kitchen.

“Steak and eggs for breakfast!
I reckon you must have had a real good time last night.” She sniffed loudly. “Doused yourself in that fancy vanilla lotion, too. Something you trying to hide?”

“I had a wonderful run and
I decided to celebrate with steak and eggs. I thought I’d be exhausted, but I’m full of energy.”

“You’re full of something else, too, but you’ll get your apron in a twist if I say it outright. That silly grin and
tryin’ to cover up his smell is a dead giveaway, so I’d be careful when I went in to breakfast, if I was you.”

“You can still smell him?” Rachel asked, suddenly alarmed.

“No,” Bertie cackled, “but I got my answer didn’t I?”

“Oh, Bertie, please don’t tell Victor or Eustace. I couldn’t show my face if anyone else knew.”

“This is women’s business and none of theirs. Which one was it?” Bertie asked as she set the sugar, cream and butter on her tray. “You got biscuits and potatoes to stretch that steak?”

“
In the oven. Which one?” Rachel sighed. “For me, there is only one. Mr. McCall.”

“Hmph.
I was thinking it might be the other, the schoolmaster.”

“You don’t like the Sheriff?”

“I like him well enough and Eustace thinks the sun sets on him. Victor likes him, too, but he strikes me as being a bit wild. The schoolmaster seems more suited to you, more proper-like. And he’s been sniffing around, too.”

“Mr. Washington is very nice, but he just doesn’t…” Rachel shrugged her shoulders.

“Just doesn’t light a fire in your belly,” the older woman laughed. “I still remember how Victor made me feel. I think my wolf would have gnawed my insides out if I’d mated another.”

Rachel knew exactly what her old friend meant. She’d come to the same conclusion in the wee hours of the morning while staring at the water stained ceiling of the sheriff’s room.

“I won’t ever mate,” she’d whispered as a kind of pledge. She thought McCall was sleeping, but he heard.

“
I don’t want to hear you say that. Unless you’re talking about Coogan or Holt, then you can not only say it, but you’d better stick to it. Why are they sniffing around, anyway?” He was staring up at the ceiling, too.

“You mean because I’m old and ugly? Why, thank you, Mr. McCall. I’m overwhelmed by your compliment.”

“Don’t go fishing,” he said and smiled. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. Why now? Why after all these years, when you’ve been right under their noses all along?”

“They think I have money, at least Mr. Coogan does.”

His eyes slid to her. “And do you?”

She laughed. “This is Gold Gulch, remember? It wouldn’t be allowed. My father doesn’t have any
, either. The hotel is drowning in debt thanks to his drinking and gambling.” She turned her head to look at him. “After the new year, I was going mate Jack Coogan. Daisy says he can be, um, managed. But I think he probably changed his mind after I bit him last night.”

McCall sat up.
“You what?”

She told him what happened and thought he’d laugh, but he didn’t.

“Is that what you did to piss Holt off?”

“No
,” she protested, “I’m not stupid. He tried to… tried to intimidate me.”

She’d decided that was his motive. He would use it as blackmail and having nowhere to turn, she’d give into him. McCall’s arrival had saved her from that, too.

She felt McCall stiffen beside her. “Leave it alone, Mr. McCall. I won’t ever run alone again and he won’t do anything in town where there might be witnesses. You have enough to worry about. Don’t lose your cool.”

McCall looked at her with raised eyebrows
. “Don’t lose my cool?”

“Didn’t I say it right? Isn’t that what they say in your world? I’ll have to get a copybook of my own.”

“You are full of surprises, Miss Kincaid.”

Rachel laughed and pointed to her drawers, now draped over the lamp like an
indecent shade. “So are you, Mr. McCall.”

It was a lovely day and Rachel had promised Bertie and Liddy that she’d be right back, but the sun was shining and the air was crisp and cool and the happy wolf inside her begged her to take a walk up Main Street. The plea was hard to resist. So, after placing her order for extra chicken, eggs, sugar, and fruit for the boxed lunches the hotel would offer for Hanging Day, she strolled along with her basket on her arm, smiling and nodding to the tourists.

She
wasn’t the only woman of Gold Gulch who felt the need for air and pleasantries. Others stood in shop doorways, keeping one eye on the customers and another on the street. They smiled and nodded and chatted with each other and passersby, offering kind words to small children and sympathetic glances for the men slogging along behind their wives.

The women weren’t the only ones smiling. Many of the men she passed
looked different, too. Their heads were up and looking ahead instead of at the ground and Rachel wondered if it was the run or who they ran with, or maybe, it was a little of both.

She felt her cheeks burn with the remembrance of her night with Challenger. It was wonderful, almost too wonderful, but thinking about it now, she realized it was more than the act itself. It was sharing the freedom that came from going over the moon.
If her wolf had not been so close to the surface, she would never have had the nerve to do what she’d done or the complete abandon with which she did it. If she felt it, had others felt it, too?

Cassie Nesbit was the only woman she met who’d gone over the moon and wasn’t smiling. Rachel barely said hello before the young woman grabbed her elbow and pulled her aside.

“He’s being punished,” she began in an agitated whisper. “That’s what it was all about last night and that’s what it was about today. Orly Peters has never so much as nodded to me in the street and yet today, it’s being put about that last night’s fight was over me. It isn’t fair. It’s not right!”

“Wait!
What happened last night?”

Rachel put her basket down and placed her hand on Cassie’s arm. By the looks of Cassie’s and Achilles’ coats, she knew something had happened during the run, but Cassie had refused to speak of it last night, and frankly, Rachel had suspected it might have something to do with two males vying for
her attention. Apparently, she’d been wrong.

Cassie’s dark skin flushed a shade deeper. “I know I said I was going to be like you,” she confessed, “But Achilles Marbank has been watching and smiling at me for a long while and I’ve been smiling back. I never meant it
to go anywhere. We were friends. We talk. That’s all, and that’s the way I meant to keep it, but last night… my wolf… I couldn’t help … his wolf looked so strong and handsome and…”

“Plans change,” Rachel finished
, trying not to laugh. She was well aware of the problems one’s wolf could instigate. She wished she could tell her friend that her own plans had changed, too, but her circumstances were far different from Cassie’s. “There’s nothing wrong with that. Change happens all the time.”

“
Not in Gold Gulch,” Cassie cried a little too loudly. Startled by her own vehemence, the young woman glanced around, wide eyed, and lowered her voice to a whisper. “It wasn’t about me or us. They don’t care about that. It was about Achilles. They let him think Eustace had done something terrible. They let him believe Eustace had betrayed him, too. They let him think he was offered the stable and forge as a reward for his hard work and loyalty to the pack, but their idea of loyalty meant not asking questions. That’s what happened to Eustace, isn’t it? He asked questions. Now Achilles has questions and he’s afraid the same will happen to him, or worse.”

“Questions about what?”
Rachel asked cautiously. She looked around to make sure no one was within earshot.

“About money, about taxes a
nd fees going up but no one seeing a difference in Gold Gulch. He feels like he’s paying for a business that isn’t his! They decide how much he makes. They decide how many people he can employ and how much he pays them. He asked for an audience with the Mayor, but the Second said no and hinted at what happens to anyone who questions the Alpha’s authority.”

“
You two were attacked as a warning.”

“No,
Orly and two of his friends attacked Achilles.” Cassie finally smiled. “They ignored me. They didn’t think I would fight and they were right. I didn’t know what to do. But my wolf did. She was beautiful, Rachel,” Cassie finished with shining eyes.

“
You
were beautiful,” Rachel corrected, “Your wolf and you together. Remember, we’re not one or the other. We’re both.” Beautiful. Strong. Wolver.

“I never knew I had it in me. Still, I’m glad Mr. Washington showed up.” She leaned in and whispered, “He was incredibly fierce! So different from what he seems. Achilles is quite taken with him.”

“Achilles isn’t alone. I’m glad he was there to help you teach those ruffians a lesson.”

“But they didn’t learn, Rachel
, they only changed their tactics.” Cassie went back to looking worried and angry. “After the run, someone lit a fire in the stable. They scattered a few coals from the forge. It wasn’t Achilles!” she defended as if Rachel had argued the point. “He checked to make sure it was properly banked. I watched him do it. Achilles smelled the smoke while we were…” The young woman’s eyes widened as her mouth clamped shut upon what she’d been about to confess.

“Talking,” Rachel finished for her. “If you two hadn’t been talking, Achilles would have been asleep. I gather there was no damage.”

“None to speak of, but what if they come back?”

“I think they made their point. Has Achilles reported it to the sheriff?”

Cassie suddenly became shy. She looked down at her feet and not at Rachel. “I saw how you looked at him. Achilles likes him, too, but Rachel, I’m worried. They hired him. He’s one of them! He’s citing more violations every day to collect more in fines. Mr. Washington says he has no choice, but...”

Rachel grabbed Cassie’s hand and squeezed, harder than she should have
, and only eased her grip when Cassie winced. “If I looked at Sheriff McCall, it was with admiration. You saw how he stood against the Second. Would he do that if he were one of them? Mr. Washington admires him, too, and that should be enough.”

Cassie looked a little frightened and Rachel realized she was baring her teeth. Bad wolf! She took a deep breath before she continued in a more moderate tone.

“The sheriff is a good man. He, like the rest of us, does what he must to survive. I swear to you, Cassie, Challenger McCall is a friend.”

“I’d better get back to work,” Cassie said hastily. “My sister is running late this morning and while Mr. Grumpypuss is smiling now, that could change at any moment.”

Rachel hung on for a second longer. “Cassie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“
Yes, you did, but I understand,” Cassie told her and then she laughed. “And that wasn’t admiration I saw in your eyes, Rachel Kincaid, but don’t worry about that either. Your secret is as safe with me, just as my ‘talking’ with Achilles is safe with you.”

The news Liddy brought from her son was both good and bad. She and her son were reunited after coming to the conclusion they’d both been lied to. While they had no proof, they were unified in their belief that the banker, Arnold Slocum, had deceived them and stolen their family’s money.

“Divide and conquer,” Eustace muttered angrily, “They did to you what they did to me and Achilles
Marbank. I cared for that cub. I never needed more than a fire and anvil to shoe a horse, but I bought his father’s equipment when the poor fella died before his time, just so Achilles could practice his trade. I wanted the cub as a partner and as soon as he was old enough, I started making it known. Slocum kept putting me off and the next thing I know, they’re taking it away and telling Achilles I had something to do with his father losing money, sayin’ I was using him to get rich and who knows what all.

“
His pa was my friend and a good man, but I always thought he was a might tightfisted with a dollar. I was surprised when he left his family with nothing. Now I’m wondering if Slocum didn’t do to them what he done to Mrs. Hornmeyer and her son. Weasely, lily-livered bastard.” He lifted his chin defiantly to Rachel. “And no, don’t care a continental what you think of it, I ain’t apologizing for the word.”

Rachel wasn’t going to ask him to.
She thought Eustace’s words fit Arnold Slocum to a tee.