Ellie's Wolf (11 page)

“Matthew Allen Moore!” She seized his arm to drag him back. “Do not kick your little brother!”

Matthew was ten years old and almost as tall as Ellie. He twisted free and scowled at her. “I don’t have to listen to you no more. Pa kicked you out, so you aren’t going to be my mother.”

Ellie let that go by. She said firmly, “I’m an adult, and you are a child. Now, tell me where Connor is.”

“I don’t have to!” Matthew screamed.

Ellie was too late to move out of the way of his fist. It plowed into her belly, just below her breastbone. She fell backward into Quill’s arms, gasping for breath.

Standing Bear leapt forward and grabbed Matthew by the nape of the neck, shaking him like a terrier shakes a rat. “That’s not the way a man treats a woman,” he thundered.

Tommy scrambled for Ellie. “Mrs. Ellie,” he wept, clutching one of her knees to climb to his feet. “Are you okay, Mrs. Ellie?”

Ellie dragged in shallow breaths. “I’ll be fine, Tommy.” Quill held her carefully, as if he knew how shaken she was. It gave her a sense of comfort. “Are you hurt, Tommy?”

The boy let go of her pants to wipe his hand under his nose, smearing snot and blood over his hand and face. “It hurts,” he said with a five-year-old’s simple dignity. “But not too bad. Mattie is mean.” He glared ferociously at his older brother. “Meaner since you left. Why did you leave?”

Sara crouched down to be on eye level with him. “She didn’t want to. Let’s find a washcloth to wash your face, okay?”

“Wait.” Ellie managed to straighten away from Quill. “Where’s Connor?”

Tommy directed another glare at his brother. “Mattie pushed him down the hole in the outhouse.”

Ellie and Sara gasped. Standing Bear shook the ten-year-old again. Mel gave Ellie an encouraging smile. “My brothers did the same thing to me when I was ten. It’s unpleasant, but no real harm done. Your boy will be fine.”

“But Connor’s not even three!” Ellie screeched, running for the backdoor.

Tommy’s trembling voice piped up, freezing her with her hand on the doorknob. “Dad told him to.”

Ellie saw Quill’s beautiful eyes go cold. “Is that so?” he growled softly.

Matthew squeaked when some of the four-legged wolves bared large white teeth in snarls. “Connor kept crying!” he yelled. “He would never shut up! He wouldn’t eat anything Dad made, and he didn’t sleep at night either. He just bawled all the time, so dad told me to put him out there so we’d get some sleep!”

“When did you put him out there?” Mel demanded.

Matthew looked down. “Before breakfast.”

Quill strode across the kitchen. “We’ll need bathwater,” he ordered.

Ellie ran as fast as she could to the outhouse, hardly noticing Quill keeping pace with her. She tore open the door. “Connor!” she screamed. “Connor! Can you hear me?”

A cry so faint she barely heard it answered her. Tears poured down her face. “Connor, baby, Mama’s coming.”

Quill pushed past her. The outhouse was too small for both of them to fit in comfortably, and the light was bad. As a wolf, she knew Quill would be able to see well even in the dim light. Quill bumped against her several times as he rapidly stripped out of his clothes. When he thrust his jeans and shirt into her arms, she steeled herself to leave to give Quill room.

“Connor, a nice man is going to help you. Don’t be afraid.”

Clenching the cotton clothing still warm from Quill’s body to her chest, she backed out to give Quill room to retrieve Connor. Outside, several men stood with anxious expressions. The wolves had changed back to human, but were naked. One of them was Stone. He squeezed her shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Miss Ellie,” he said. “It smells as if it must have been cleaned not long ago, so your boy will be okay.”

She sniffed and wiped her cheeks, her breath going out of her in a shaky sigh. “Thank God. Conner isn’t very big, and he wouldn’t have the strength to stand for twelve hours. He could have drowned.” Her shakiness dissipated into rage. “Mr. Moore could have killed him.”

Stone’s face changed from anxious to soothe to anxious to punish. “Yeah, and we don’t know what diseases he could have picked up.”

Ellie clenched a fist against her mouth. “Oh, God,” she prayed. “Please, let Connor be all right.”

Ellie found a new spurt of strength when Quill emerged from the outhouse. He was carrying Connor with a hand hooked under each armpit, holding the boy carefully away from his bare body. Her son was covered with excrement and urine. He stank to high heaven, but Ellie didn’t care. She dropped Quill’s clothes to snatch her baby tightly to her heart. His arms seemed thinner than they had last time she’d held him, and they couldn’t hold her neck very tightly because he was shaking too hard.

“Connor,” she whispered. “Baby, it’s okay, I have you.”

“Don’t go,” the boy wailed in a thin, hoarse voice. “Mama, don’t go.”

“Mama is never going to leave you again,” Ellie vowed.

Quill picked up his clothes. “Stone, go get me Moore,” he said. “White Horse, you and Harley go with him.”

Even in the midst of hugging Connor and assuring him he was safe now, Ellie shivered at the flat note in his voice.

“Be careful,” she said to the young wolf. “Remember he has a shotgun.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Stone said, but perfunctorily, before he ran in the direction of the mill.

Quill’s voice was warmer when he said, “Ellie, take the boy inside. He needs to be washed, and you’ll need to change your clothes.”

She cast a quick eye over Quill. His clothes had been spared, but he had muck smeared over his arms from hands to elbow, and more smears on his chest where Connor must have clutched at him.

“You’ll need to wash up too.”

“I’m going to dunk myself in the river. You go on inside. Boys, stay with the ladies.”

Ellie carried Connor back into the kitchen, followed by Snake and Sand. Sara and Mel had been busy. The dishes were washed and set out on the counter to be dried. Tommy stood on a chair with a dishtowel, drying bowls and plates under Sara’s supervision. The tub Ellie had bathed in for two years sat in the middle of the floor. Matthew swept a broom over the floor with a scowl on his face that suggested it was only Standing Bear’s ire that made him do it. The wolf stood in the corner of the kitchen, arms folded over his chest, his glare fixed coldly on the boy. Lance stood in the opposite corner, in the same arms-folded stance.

Mel came forward right away, reaching a finger to lightly stroke a lock of Connor’s hair. “How is he? He’s not crying. What a brave boy!”

“I think he’s okay,” Ellie said. Connor buried his face in her shoulder, silent shudders racking his little body. “We need to get him washed up. Tommy, could you go get Connor some clean clothes?”

Tommy clambered off the chair and ran out of the kitchen. Connor was stripped of his filthy clothes and in the warm water when Tommy came back, carrying a mound of clothes almost as big as he was.

“I brought some of your clothes, too, Mrs. Ellie,” he said. “Should I finish drying the dishes, or do you need me to help you with Connor?”

Tears prickled at her eyelids. She wouldn’t miss Matthew a bit when she was at the den, but Tommy had a piece of her heart. “Thank you for bringing me clothes, too, Tommy. You can finish drying the dishes.”

Finally, Connor began to cry noisily. “Mama,” he sobbed over and over in between hiccups.

Matthew leaned on his broom. “See? All he does is bawl.”

Ellie clenched her teeth. Matthew was only a child. She should save her rage for his father. Sara didn’t seem to have Ellie’s qualms about yelling at a ten-year-old. She marched across the kitchen and popped him on the butt with her dishtowel.

“You little brat! How would you like it if you were stuck in a crap hole all day?” She snapped her fingers at the wolf standing guard. “Hey, Standing Bear, take this rotten little beast and toss him in the crapper. Close the lid nice and tight. We’ll let him out before we leave.”

Standing Bear was particularly handsome when he smiled, but the smile that spread over his face now wasn’t attractive. “Wonderful suggestion, cousin,” he said, reaching for Matthew.

Matthew threw the broom at him and tried to dart away, but Standing Bear easily caught him and carried him, kicking, out of the kitchen. The noise of his screamed curses was diminished but not cut off by the closed door. Ellie’s fingers curled into claws beneath the water. She should be sorry for Matthew. His mother had died less than a year ago. But she wasn’t. She pressed her lips together tightly and helped Connor dunk his head to rinse the soap from his white-blond hair.

Her son was clean now, although the water in the tub was filthy. She lifted him up to stand beside the tub, careful to not let him touch her soiled clothing, and wrapped a towel around his shivering body. The warmth of the day still flooded the kitchen, so Ellie was sure it wasn’t cold that made him shake. She dressed him and laid him on a folded blanket, where he lay with his thumb tucked into his mouth. Seeing that hurt Ellie. Connor hadn’t sucked his thumb in months. She stroked his hair until his eyelids fell and the tension in his body gradually relaxed.

Mel watched with concern. “Looks like he’s sleeping now. You should get cleaned up too.”

“You’re right. Do we have any more water?”

Sara was helping Tommy dry the dishes. “There’s some left here on the stove.”

Ellie stood up and went to the pile of clothes Tommy had brought to pick out a fresh set of clothing.

Mel shooed the remaining men out. “Ellie still needs to get cleaned up, and she doesn’t need a bunch of morons for an audience while she does it.”

All the men hurried out the door. Sara lifted the kettle from the stove to pour steaming water into a large bowl. “Step back, Tommy, I don’t want to burn you.”

Tommy obediently backed up, looking up at her with awe. Ellie thought Sara had an admirer. The smile the thought brought to Ellie’s lips felt good. Sara put the kettle back on the stove and took his hand. “Let’s you and me tip Connor’s bathwater out while Ellie takes her bath, all right?”

“’Cause I am man, too, right? And ladies should only be with other ladies or little boys when they take baths, right?”

Sara’s lip twitched. “Right.”

“Okay,” Tommy agreed in a sunny tone. He held the door open for Sara and then followed her out. “Do you think Mr. Standing Bear really put Mattie in the outhouse?”

Ellie looked down at Connor on his blanket. He was still sleeping, but his body leaned toward her. How long would it take him to recover from this? First, his father died, and then his mother disappeared for days. Her jaw clenched when she imagined what torment her baby had been put through since she’d been sold to the traders. Rage beat against her skull. Mr. Moore had a lot to answer for. And he
would
answer for it.

It took several long breaths to force the anger back under control. Ellie took all her clothes off since both her pants and shirt were soiled. The muck had seeped through the fabric, so even her breast wrap and panties had to be changed. She applied a soapy washcloth to her chest, mentally listing all the things she needed to pack. Her mother’s spinning wheel was top of the list, followed by all hers and Connor’s clothes, the few precious books she’d been given by her grandfather, and Neal’s journals. After Neal’s death she’d read a page or two a day in one of the journals. Reading his words made it seem as though he were still with her. Someday Connor would be old enough to read them.

The door swung open, and Ellie turned to ask Sara to bring the tub over to the stove so they could begin heating fresh water.

It wasn’t only Sara. Quill stood in front of the teenager in the door, mouth open and eyes wide, staring at Ellie’s naked body. She stared back, too shocked to even cover herself.

Quill barked, “Sorry!” He threw his gaze to the far corner of the ceiling. “We have Moore out in front of the mill. I thought you’d like to talk to him.”

“Yes, I would.” She watched his Adam’s apple move in his throat and flicked a glance to the front of his pants. There was a bulge there, and it looked as though it was growing. An answering heat began between her legs. She shifted to control the lust. “I’ll be out in five minutes.”

Sara stared up at him as she pushed past him into the kitchen. He turned quickly and left, shutting the door behind him. Ellie blew a breath out between her teeth.

“Woo-hoo!” Sara fanned herself. “The look he gave you!”

“The way he blushed was so cute,” Mel agreed.

“You were behind him,” Ellie told Sara. “How could you see the look on his face?”

“I saw it when he went out,” Sara said, kissing her fingertips before flicking them out. “It was hot enough to light the stove.”

Ellie went back to washing, fighting the temptation to go dreamy. “I guess it’s only fair. I’ve seen him naked before.” She could feel herself blushing at the memory of how finely made his body was.

“And there’s nothing wrong with that,” Mel put in, as if comforting Ellie. “After all, he’s your husband, right?”

She put on the clothes she had selected from the bundle Tommy had brought, lifted Connor from his blanket, and carried him with her outside. Her son woke with a jerk and clamped frantic arms around her neck. Mel followed. Tommy, sitting just outside the door, jumped up and said in a small voice, “Are you leaving again, Mrs. Ellie?”

She paused to shift Connor’s sleep limp body and knelt to hug Tommy. “Yes, Tommy, I’ll be living far away with my new husband.”

Ellie could see he was trying to be brave, but the tears still welled up. “I don’t want you to go away. Matthew is mean, and Pa doesn’t like me. Please don’t go. Please.”

It would be easy to imagine these were just the words of a little boy who exaggerated, but Ellie had noticed Mr. Moore treated Tommy differently than he treated Matthew. It hurt her heart to say, “I’m sorry, Tommy, but I have to go.”

Sara put an arm of comfort around Tommy. “Come on. Walk with me.”

They all walked the path to the mill. Neal had walked that path every morning after breakfast and back each evening to come home to her. Ellie faltered when she saw Mr. Moore standing several yards away from mill, with his older son by his side. They were flanked by Snake and Snow. Mr. Moore’s eye was swelling, and a shadow below it would probably turn blue in an hour, but other than that, he looked unharmed. Stone strolled over to stand between Ellie and Sara, holding Mr. Moore’s shotgun.