Page 10 of Unwilling Wolf

“Go into the bedroom, Eliza. Get some rest. Don’t come out until morning.”

She didn’t understand him.

“What is it you do for Mr. Shaw,” she asked low.

He turned and gave her a harsh look with eyes sharp as glass. “Whatever he asks.”

“It’s not proper for me to sleep in a man’s bed,” she uttered, lifting her chin up higher.

“No one gives a shit about that stuff around here,” Burke said. “Bed. Now.”

She didn’t like being told what to do, but when he turned on her and stalked closer with that angry look in his glowing eyes, it scared the stubbornness right out of her.

“Goodnight, Mr. Burke.”

He stopped his advance and watched her meander into Garret’s room. She closed the door firmly behind her and settled the iron lock into place.

Another howl rose on the wind, and the sound of the front door had her easing the bedroom door open just a crack to see out. From here, she could see Burke close the front door and pass by the front window.

He wasn’t even carrying a rifle or a lantern or anything. He was just going into the dark where the wolves sounded as if they were just outside.

The men here were much tougher than any of the men she’d met in the city.

She didn’t know whether to admire that…or to be terrified of it.

****

A soft breath in the quiet of the morning. The subtle creak of the floorboards under a boot. A stirring of the air that told her she wasn’t alone.

Eliza opened her eyes. Garret watched her from the chair in the corner of his bedroom that Burke had sat in the day before. His elbows rested on the arms of the chair and his hands were clasped in front of his mouth. He had a long cut down his cheek and dried blood on his neck. A long gash trailed from his throat down into the unbuttoned neck of his shirt.

She couldn’t take her eyes off the improper exposure of his skin.

“You’re hurt,” she observed.

“I don’t get hurt. You bite your nails,” he said in a deep, gravelly voice. “That’s not an attractive habit in a woman.”

“You bait people too early in the morning,” she replied, and pulled the covers up to her chin to ensure she was decently covered. “That’s not an attractive habit in anyone.”

Blazing-blue eyes sparking with the barest hint of anger, he stood and stalked to the door. “I’ll be waiting in the den when you’re ready.” He glanced over his shoulder at her once, and then slammed the door behind him.

There was tragedy to his unhappy demeanor. Garret truly wasn’t the kind and carefree boy she remembered.

Gray, early-dawn light filtered through the curtain-free window. Nearby, a rooster crowed. Though the bed was comfortable, she had slept fitfully after the disturbing day before. Eliza washed her face and fiddled with her hair for a few seconds, but quickly gave up in her haste to find out about Roy. Her full skirts swished and her dainty leather shoes clacked across the wooden floor as she headed into the den. Lenny and Cookie sat solemnly at the table. Garret stood, leaning against the fireplace. He looked every bit the impatient predator as his narrowed eyes tracked her movement through the room.

“How is Roy?” she asked, steeling herself for the answer.

He glanced at Cookie and Lenny, then pushed off of the fireplace. “He lives.”

“Kind of,” Cookie muttered so softly, she almost missed it.

“What do you mean?” she asked Cookie.

It was Garret who answered. “I have sent Burke to take him to some people who can…rehabilitate him.”

“I can care for him,” she gritted out. “He doesn’t need Burke or any of your men. He needs me,” she told him as she headed for the door.

When she reached for the handle, her hand hit the stone wall of Garret’s torso, and she flinched back with a gasp.