Page 35 of Unwilling Wolf

He put his hat on and fastened a leather belt with pistols to his waist in a practiced movement. “Let me clean your hands before I go.”

He pulled up a pot, sloshed some water into it, and set it on the stove. He dragged a chair closer to her and then unwrapped her hands. The salve was still damp, but well on its way to drying. The smell and the thought of what her hands would look like when clean made her crinkle her nose. Her skin felt soggy.

Garret took the pot off the stove, tested it with a finger, and put her hands in it to soften the drying salve. The warm water soothed her torn skin, and his careful touches relaxed her. While he worked, he bent his head close to hers. He smelled like Garret, but different. Like…animal. Maybe this new minuscule change in his scent was only something he gave off near sleep, or near whatever he did running in the woods last night. She smiled at the observation. It was nice to see him as a mortal man and not some cold, unchangeable and untouchable being.

“What color is your wolf?” she asked softly.

“Eliza,” he warned, but she could hear the soft rattle of a growl in his throat.

“I’m not running. I’m asking.”

He shook his head and huffed a sigh. “There you go,” he said once her hands were clean.

To test how much they’d healed, she made them into fists. They certainly looked better, if one ignored the extreme prune effect each of her fingers had adopted. “Thank you. They feel better already. I’m sure I’ll be right as rain soon.”

“Good. Let ’em air out for a bit and then have Lenny rewrap them before you start working.”

Eliza leaned back in her chair. “Bossy,” she accused him again.

He stood and headed for the door. “For your own good, woman.”

“What color?” she asked again, her heart pounding against her breastbone.

He left and let the door loudly swing closed behind him, but after a few seconds, he returned, strode straight into the house and barreled down on her. He slid his hand to her leg, gripped her thigh through her dress and pressed his lips violently to hers. It was fast, and passionate, and then he jerked away from her. She hadn’t even had a chance to close her eyes and lean into the kiss.

“Gray,” he rumbled. Then he slid his felt hat over his dark hair and strode from the house.

Eliza sat there shocked. She pulled her fingertips to her throbbing lip and tried to control the erratic fluttering that consumed her stomach. Gray. That was his way of confirming her questions.

He was the wolf that had been howling last night. A gray wolf.

He’d kissed her and told her something real.

Her lips were throbbing and her heart was pounding, and she couldn’t stop staring at the door where he’d disappeared.

He’d kissed her.

Not because they were being forced to by a preacher. He’d come all the way across the room to do it.

****

When she left the cabin to find Lenny, the rain had indeed stopped, but just barely. Dark clouds threatened to open up on them at any time. She pulled her shawl more tightly around her shoulders and headed for the hands’ cabin. Lenny met her out front. Lifting her skirts, Eliza showed the girl she wore her new work shoes. Laughing, her friend grabbed her arm for the short jog to the barn as the first rain droplets hit their heads.

“I have to tell you something,” she uttered as the reached the shelter of it.

Lenny looked at her expectantly. “What?”

“Garret told me,” she whispered.

Lenny’s smile fell from her beautiful face. “Told you what?” she whispered, quickly looking around.

“What I suspected. He’s a wolf.”

“Eliza,” she admonished. “Enough. You cannot speak of this anymore. Do you understand? Never.”

Confused, Eliza nodded. “It’s okay though. I don’t care if you are an animal for part of the time. I’ve read books about it. About lycans and werewolves and shapeshifters.”

Lenny shook her head harshly. “You don’t understand. You need to stop. Please. If you are my friend, you will stop.”

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