Ellie's Wolf (16 page)

Marc nudged his hat higher on his head with a knuckle, examining Snake again, even more thoroughly. “Wolf Clan?”

“Yep. That a problem for you?”

Marc grunted. “Not if what I’ve heard about the way you treat women is right.”

Ellie saw the men and wolves shift, but they kept quiet and let Snake talk.

“We treat women like the treasures they are. Melissa will be safe with me.”

“I’ve heard that about the Wolf Clan. And what you did to some women thieves twenty years ago.” His thin lips quirked. “Could have worse in-laws, I suppose. You planning on living here, or are you just stopping in on your way to your own place?”

“If it’s okay with you, me and Mel and Sara and Stone will stay a few weeks. If you could put the others up for a couple of nights, it would be appreciated.”

No emotion showed on Marc’s face. “You have a place? How about work?” Ellie could almost hear him wondering if Snake could support his sister. “I’m not rich, but I have a place with kin near Kearney, Nebraska, and land up in the Black Hills. I’ll build her a house there if she wants. I hunt and trade the skins and meat. Mel won’t ever go hungry. She’ll never be unprotected, and if anything happens to me, my family will take care of her.”

After a minute of silence, Mark nodded. “We’ll talk more later.” He looked at the rest of their party and raised his voice. “You’re all welcome. Mordecai and Michael will help you take care of your stock. There’s water in the kitchen.”

None of them moved until Quill gave a nod. Ellie was relieved to get off the horse. She set Connor on the ground and watched her son gaze around with confusion in his eyes until he saw Quill. “Daddy! Gotta pee!” he squealed and ran as fast as his short, chubby legs would take him in Quill’s direction.

Quill stopped to scoop the boy up before walking to the Dirk brothers. Ellie rubbed her breastbone to ease the dull ache there. Would her son remember the handsome blond man who was his father? Sara strode past her, blocking her view of Quill and Connor. She cast one glare over her shoulder at Stone then aimed a smile at a lower point.

“Come on, Tommy,” she said. “Let’s help Connor find the outhouse, okay?”

Stone stopped beside Ellie, his golden brown eyes fixed on Sara’s back like those of a sad puppy. “She won’t marry me,” he told Ellie in a low voice that radiated misery. “I asked her, and she said no. Why won’t she marry me?”

Ellie had to reach a long way up to pat his shoulder. “It’s only been a few days. And she’s so young. Give her time.”

“It’s only been a few days for you and Mel, and you’ve accepted your mates.”

Her breath got stuck for a moment. That was true.

“So what did Snake and Quill do different?” he demanded. “What am I doing wrong?”

“Nothing. Sara’s young.” Ellie reviewed his behavior toward Sara. “Maybe you could try to leave her alone for a bit? Try treating her like your sister for a while until she gets to know you better.”

The expression on his face showed sulky reluctance. “I’ll try.”

“Stone!” Quill beckoned them closer to where he and Marc Dirk stood.

Ellie looked around for Tommy and Connor and saw them with Sara, heading off to the outhouse behind the bunkhouse, escorted by one of the younger Dirk brothers. A low angry rumble oozed from Stone’s throat as he glared at them.

“That’s what I was talking about,” Ellie chided him.

The rumble cut off, replaced by the sound of teeth grinding together. Paint slapped his back. “Calm down, pup. She’ll be back.”

When they reached Quill, he gave Ellie a quick smile. “Need to fetch the preacher,” he told her. There was something in his tone that made her shiver pleasurably. “Mel’s uncle. Stone, you want to take a trip? Why don’t you and Sand head over to the minister’s place and bring him here. His name is Martin Dirk, and he lives next to his church, about five miles south of here.”

The younger man nodded with a small sigh. “Sure, I’ll go. Will you look after Sara for me?”

Quill’s expression said that was a stupid question. “Of course.”

Stone snorted. “I was talking to Ellie. Don’t let those brothers get too close to her, okay? And try to talk her into marrying me.”

Before she could answer, he was on his way. Ellie watched him mount and call to Sand. Still in wolf form, Sand trotted alongside him down the drive. She jerked her head around when Quill took her hand and lifted it to his lips.

“Tonight,” he whispered, his eyes shining emeralds set in the gold of his sun-burnished face. “We’ll be married.”

The pleasurable shiver she’d felt a few moments ago was back, hotter and stronger than before. “Yes,” she whispered back, trying not to swallow audibly.

He smiled. “Are you nervous?”

Was she? She wiped the palm of her free hand against her jeans. “Maybe a little.”

He kissed her hand again before tucking it into his elbow to walk her into the house. “You have nothing to be worried about. You’ve been married. You’ve done it before.”

She raised her eyebrows in confusion as they reached the porch.

His voice lowered to the barest thread of sound. “You know what to do in bed.”

She tripped on the porch step. “What?”

Was there the slightest hint of a blush on his cheekbone? He kept his face facing forward, so she wasn’t sure. “My wolf chose you to be my mate nearly six years ago. Even if another woman had caught my eye, my wolf would never have accepted her. And I never looked twice at another woman after I saw you.”

“So, you’ve never…uh…”

He opened the screen door for her. “Nope. I’m a virgin.”

“Oh.” Blood rushed furiously to Ellie’s cheeks. “Oh.”

“But it shouldn’t be a problem.” He looked down at her at last, a faint smile shadowing his lips. “I have a pretty good idea of what to do.”

Ellie stared, mouth open, up into his face. Mel’s voice calling from deeper inside the house rescued Ellie from having to answer. She muttered a garbled word of excuse to Quill and fled.

* * * *

Ellie looked in the mirror and smoothed her hands over the front of her one good dress. It was clean, at least, if wrinkled from being hastily crammed into a bag with the rest of the clothes that had been packed at Moore’s Mill. Too bad there wasn’t time to press it, but Mel’s uncle, Reverend Dirk, was waiting downstairs to perform the weddings.

She should be downstairs, but Ellie dawdled, running her comb through her chin-length bob again. She had savored every minute in the tub of hot water the Dirk brothers had brought up. Quill and the other men had charge of Connor and Tommy, so Ellie had time completely to herself. It had been months since she’d been able to luxuriate in a leisurely bath. She could have made time to press her dress if she’d cut her bath short, but she’d stayed in the tub until the water was cold. Mel shared a bar of her mother’s handmade vanilla-and-rose-scented soap with her and with Sara, so Ellie’s freshly washed hair and body smelled of it. The last time she’d used such a pretty soap had been the morning she’d married Neal.

She set the comb down on the bureau and glanced behind her, at the bed against the wall. She swallowed. The bed she would share tonight with Quill was freshly made, pristine with its pillows plumped in white cases and the patchwork quilt folded just so. Ellie thought it had an expectant look, as though it was just waiting for them to strip off their clothes and mess it up. A nervous giggle choked her. She was the expectant one, not the bed. It was easy to picture Quill lying on the clean sheet, his strong body brown against the white cotton. He and all the wolves preferred to wear as little as possible so she knew very well what his muscled body looked like. Thanks to last night, she knew what his mouth tasted like and how his weight felt against her. In just a few hours she would know far more.

A knock sounded on the door, and Mel’s voice called that it was time. Ellie turned away from the bed and wiped her hands over the dress once more. Yes, it was time. She opened the door and stepped into a bunch of flowers slapping her in the face.

“Here,” said Sara. “Your bouquet.”

“Bouquet?” Ellie fumbled to take the flowers from the teenager. It was an uneven bundle of prairie wildflowers and grasses tied with a piece of twine. In the center were two pink roses.

“Stone’s idea.” Sara snorted, waving her own bouquet so flower petals fluttered in the breeze. “He picked them himself.”

“That was nice of him.” Ellie looked at Mel, standing a few steps down the hall. She was holding a ragged bunch of flowers too. “Wasn’t it, Mel?”

Mel nodded. “The roses come from Mom’s kitchen garden. Stone asked permission to cut the fully bloomed ones for our bouquets. That was real polite of him,” she added with a nod. “See, Sara? He’s got manners.”

“Hmph,” said Sara. “I agreed to marry him, but that’s
all
I agreed to. He’s sleeping in the hall, and there’s not enough roses in the world to make me change my mind about that. Let’s get going. If I have to marry that ape, we may as well get it over with.”

She pushed past them and stamped down the stairs. Mel exchanged a glance with Ellie and followed the teenager down the stairs. Ellie hurried after them. As she reached the ground floor, Ellie heard Stone say, “You’re so beautiful.” Sara’s reply was a mumble that Ellie couldn’t decipher.

But she didn’t care; her gaze found Quill at the far end of the living room, and he was staring at her with intense eyes. She’d always thought him good looking, but she’d never seen him looking as handsome as he did now with his damp curls slicked back from his face. The chest she’d imagined upstairs was sedately covered by his green cotton shirt, but the neck was open, giving her tantalizing glimpses of the hollow of his throat and the strong lines of his collarbones. What would he do if she kissed him there, where his neck joined his shoulders? Would making love with him be different than it had been with Neal? She walked to join him, staring into his eyes.

His finger was gentle on her mouth. “Mate,” he said hoarsely, fingertip gliding along the curve of her lower lip.

“Quill.” The breathiness of her voice embarrassed her enough to shake off the sexual haze. She cleared her throat. “You look very handsome.”

His voice was still hoarse. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Shall we begin?”

Ellie jumped at Reverend Dirk’s voice. Blushing, she moved to the spot he indicated beside Sara. Quill moved to stand behind her and to the left. Ellie glanced around as the minister began the ceremony. Mel was on Sara’s other side, and the grooms were lined up behind their brides. Mel’s three brothers were on one side of the living room and the men with Quill’s party were on the other. Tommy took Connor’s hand, and the boys came to stand pressed against her. She was so glad they were there.

“Do you, Eagle’s Quill Nathaniel Wolfe, take this woman, Eleanor Elizabeth Burnet Overdahl, to be your wedded wife?”

Behind her, Quill laid a hand on her shoulder. “I do.”

“Will you cherish her, provide for her, and be her trustworthy companion from this day forth, in sickness or in health, for richer or poorer, until death parts you?”

“I will.” Quill’s voice was strong. “I’ll put her wellbeing, and Tommy’s and Connor’s, before mine. If food’s running low, they’ll eat before me. If there’s danger, I’ll die to protect them. They are mine, and I am theirs. My kin are their kin. We are all Clan. They will never be alone or abandoned.”

All the other wolves said, “Yes!”

Ellie’s breath stuck in her throat. That wasn’t part of the traditional wedding vow, but it was beautiful. Tears crowded her eyes as she reached a hand to close over Quill’s where it rested on her shoulder. “Thank you,” she choked out.

“Do you, Eleanor Elizabeth Burnet Overdahl, take this man, Eagle’s Quill Nathaniel Wolfe, to be your wedded husband?”

She had to clear her throat to get words out. “I do.”

“Will you cherish him, care for him, and be his trustworthy companion from this day forth, in sickness or in health, for richer or poorer, until death parts you?”

Wasn’t she supposed to promise to obey him? And there was no mention of love. These wedding vows were different than what she was expecting. “I will.” She made her voice firm. Should she add something like he had? “I’ll be the best wife I can.”

Quill stepped a little closer and turned her to face him. He held a slender little ring, and as he slid it on her finger, he said, “With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

The minister put his hand over theirs. “Then by the power invested in me by the Central Congregations of the United Methodist Churches, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may share a kiss to seal your holy vows.”

Amid polite applause from the Dirks and exuberant howls from the wolves, Quill tipped her head back to brush her lips with a light kiss. He lifted his head and smiled at her as he drew her back from the minister. As they joined the line of his kinsmen, Sara and Stone moved to take their place.

Connor clung to her legs. “Mama, lift me up,” he demanded.

Ellie looked down at her son. A weak giggle threatened when she saw the pale blond hair scattered with flower petals fallen from her bouquet. She brushed them away. “Okay. Here, hold Mama’s flowers.”

She hoisted him to her hip with a grunt. Connor had Neal’s coloring, but he was slender and small like her. Nonetheless, he was getting too heavy for her to hold comfortably. She slanted a glance up at Quill and found him holding Tommy on his shoulder.

He slid his free arm around her waist. “My family,” he said, a solemn expression on his face. Pride and something like joy broke through the solemnity. “I have two fine sons and a beautiful mate to love.”

Love. How could he love her when they barely knew each other? She didn’t love him, but she would in time. He was a good man. Imagine where she could be right now had another man won the Bride Fight. Possibly raped, beaten, and forever separated from her son. The surge of gratitude made her put her arm around his waist and squeeze him.

She was married. In the eyes of Reverend Dirk’s church, she was married. All that was left to make the union fully legal was signing the marriage certificate and the consummation. She could feel the warm, strong body pressed to her side, the taut muscles in the back and abdomen she clasped. Her fingers stretched over his stomach, feeling his warmth. Desire pooled low in her belly, and she smiled with relieved delight. There was no sin in desiring her husband’s lovemaking. Wanting to feel him pushing inside her, sliding in and out of her body in a desperate dance of heat and need, was now a joyful, guiltless thing. And she wanted that.