Ellie's Wolf (21 page)

Ellie hesitated for a moment then nudged her horse to guide it closer to Paint. “Are you okay?” She wrestled inwardly with awkwardness. “It’s none of my business, but do you have a mate?”

“No.” His voice was even lower. “I found a mate. She was like you, engaged to another man. I tried to court her, but she wasn’t interested. She thought wolves were disgusting.” His hand rose to touch the scars on the side of his face. “And she said I was ugly. I guess she was right. Most people don’t like to look at me.”

“You’re not ugly, Paint.” It was true. He had thick long, hair that a woman might envy, a beautiful smile with white, perfect teeth, and a strong, handsome body. She was so used to seeing his scars that she didn’t even notice them anymore. “You’re a good man. I’ve seen how you handle the boys. You’d be a wonderful father.”

He adjusted his eye patch. “It’s too late. She died in childbirth two years ago, and the baby with her.”

“I’m so sorry.” She reached across them to give his arm a quick pat. “Is it possible that you could find a new mate?”

He shook his head. “No, a wolf only chooses once. Maybe I could find a wife the wolf would accept.” He shook his head again. “Let’s talk about something else. We should be in sight of Kearney in four days. If the weather holds, maybe only three. But it still looks like bad weather is ahead of us.”

Ellie allowed him to turn the subject. Last night had been cloudy, but this morning the sky was mostly clear. Far to the northwest, a hint of clouds shaded the horizon. If it was a storm, she hoped it would veer south and miss them. It was going to be another hot and dusty day, and a gentle shower would be welcome, but a storm would not.

But the clouds remained on the horizon all day, without moving as far as she could tell. After supper she and Quill walked out away from camp and made their own little nest of blankets—one still torn since she hadn’t had time to mend it. Tonight, Quill didn’t do any experimenting with her. His hands were light as they caressed her without urgency, and his lips were warm and loving on her body. They made love with gentle tenderness and cuddled against each other under the torn blanket afterward to talk.

“Part of me can’t wait to get to the den,” she told him in a comfortable whisper. “I want a hot bath, and a bed, and walls with a ceiling over me. And part of me loves this. Being alone on the prairie with you. Making love outdoors at night feels a little naughty, but I like it.”

He spoke cautiously. “We don’t have an audience, and I told the men to pay no attention to any yells or moans and to not come close to us unless it was a dire emergency, but you know we’re not completely isolated here.”

“Of course not.” He would never be so careless with her safety. Women stealers could be anywhere. Last night she had been uneasy at the thought that her moans and cries would be overheard by the others, but tonight she wasn’t uncomfortable with the idea of guards roaming out of sight. “As long as I can pretend we’re alone, I’ll be happy.”

His lips curved into a smile against her temple. “I’m sure we can find some time to sneak away and pretend to be alone at the den. I like this too. I wonder if my father’s ancestors snuck out of the tribal camp to make love on the prairie. Did they find it as wonderful as I do?”

“Was your mom born in the Clan?” she asked, winding one of his springy curls around her finger.

“No, my father found her in a little town called Rosebud up north when he had gone to trade some skins at the trading post there. His wolf chose her for his mate as soon as he met her, and she accepted him right away.”

“Where are your parents now?”

Quill sighed. “My mom was killed twenty years ago when men tried to steal the Clan’s women. Do you know that story?”

She did. It was the sort of story that spread from town to town for a thousand miles. Most of the Wolf Clan’s women had left their camp to bathe in a river, and a group of white men had stolen them. The Clan’s men caught up with them in only a few hours. The white men knew they couldn’t win the fight, so they had killed nearly all the women they had stolen. Out of evil spite, they had murdered almost thirty women and girls. She stroked his cheek to comfort the hurt she could feel in him.

“I’m so sorry, Quill. You must have been young. Do you remember her?”

“I was about Tommy’s age. I don’t remember her very well, but I know she had brown curly hair and green eyes like mine.”

“I would love to have a daughter with green eyes,” she said, picturing a little girl with green eyes peeking through pretty brown curls.

“I would love to have a daughter who looked like you.” He kissed her. “Sometimes I still can’t believe this is real. I have my mate at last. I love Tommy and Connor already, and someday we’ll have more children. Can a man be this happy?”

He was happy. A warm glow lit her heart. “I’m glad you’re happy. I am too. We’ll be happy together.”

“Forever,” he whispered. “I love you, darling Ellie.”

The glow faded slightly. She traced his mouth with her fingertips and kissed him. “Good-night, husband.”

In the morning the sky was gloomy. It matched Ellie’s mood. Paint noticed it, and as they were riding, he asked what was troubling her. She waved him off, not wanting to talk about it.

“It’s nothing,” she said. “Just a personal thing.”

He clucked his tongue. “Come on, Ellie, I talked to you about something pretty personal. Can’t you talk to me?”

She shifted Connor’s weight to her other arm. “Quill loves me.”

“Sure. We all know that.”

“But I don’t love him!”

His one eye widened. “You hate him?”

“No! I like him. But I don’t know him well enough to love him yet. I only met him a week ago. Love takes time to build, so how can he love me?”

“He’s known about you for six years,” he pointed out. “And it’s different for wolves. They know who they want for their mate, and they don’t change their minds. He wouldn’t lie about that.”

“No, I believe him. That’s the trouble! I can’t lie and say I love him too, when I don’t.”

“No, you shouldn’t lie. He wouldn’t want that.”

Misery washed over her. “But I know it hurts him, and I feel guilty.”

“Why feel guilty?”

“Because.” Tears clogged her throat. “I should love him. It’s Neal. I can’t just stop loving him and switch to loving Quill.”

Paint turned his head to look her in the face. “Ellie, you don’t have to stop loving your first husband. You can love him and Quill at the same time.”

Connor squeaked when her arm tightened on him. She loosened her arm and patted his back soothingly.

Paint tried again. “You love Taye, right?”

“Yes.”

“And you loved your grandfather, too, right? At the same time?”

“Well, yes. But that’s not the same.”

“I think it is. If you don’t love Quill, then you don’t love Quill. You can’t force feelings. But consider it. Loving Quill isn’t betraying Neal.” His voice gentled. “Neal is gone. Quill’s right here, and he loves you.”

She studied the reins in her hands. “And I’m sure I’ll love him too. It will just take some time.” She peeked sideways at him, taking a leaf from his book to change the subject. “Now can we talk about something else? Please?”

He studied her another moment before nodding. “Sure. I bet we’ll get a little rain before lunch.”

Ellie accepted the topic with relief. They did get a half-hour of cool gentle rain right before lunch, and Ellie felt cold and clammy until the sun came out. Then she felt hot and sweaty. She was uncomfortable the entire day and had to make an effort to keep her irritability under control. Connor was fussy and didn’t want to stay on the horse. He twisted himself nearly out of her arms more than once.

“This is why we use cradleboards,” Snow said solemnly, taking him from her. “Children can’t wiggle out.”

Connor was too big for a cradleboard, she was sure. She smiled tightly at him, reminding herself to be polite. She was usually even tempered, but right now everything bothered her, from the mosquitoes trying to feast on her to the stench of wet horse. The longing for a hot bath was making her peevish. Part of it was the guilt and confusion she struggled with over her feelings for Quill. It was enough to make her want to swear.

They rode longer than usual that day and didn’t stop until it was nearly dark. The rain started up again as they crossed an old bridge from the Times Before that spanned a sluggish river. A metal sign, the paint badly weathered, identified it as the Republican River. They continued another mile before making camp.

“We’re in Nebraska now,” Sand told her cheerfully as he helped her dismount. “If we ride hard, you’ll sleep in the den tomorrow night.”

The words roused Ellie from her weary haze. “So close? That’s good. I really want a bath.”

“It’s about fifty more miles,” Paint’s voice cut in. “We probably won’t make it that far in one day. Most days we go only thirty or thirty-five miles.”

Ellie’s spirits plummeted, but she put her shoulders back and forced a smile. “So, two days. That’s all right. We’re almost there.”

Snow came to collect Connor and Tommy to take them to relieve themselves. Ellie went in the other direction, to a discreet stand of brushy trees to do the same. She was dirty, sore, and cranky, but she wanted Quill to make love to her tonight. Everything he did to her was magic. If anything could cheer her up, his touch would.

The rain gradually slowed and then stopped while some of the men fried a couple of rabbits over the fire. Quill was still out running a four-pawed patrol around camp when they sat down to a late supper. Connor continued fussing all through the meal. Ellie resisted the urge to tear her hair out, reminding herself Connor wasn’t yet three years old. He threw his biscuit on the ground. He whined that he didn’t want mashed beans and used his little fist to throw a wad of sullen green mush at her. The mashed beans smeared her hair and cheek. She grimly wiped the smear away as best she could, set her teeth, and tried to coax her son to eat the fried rabbit. The third time he tried to push the spoon away she found her mouth opening before she even knew it.

“Connor Dane Overdahl, damn it,
eat!
” she shouted and then dropped the plate to slap a horrified hand over her mouth.

Everyone in camp gaped at her for a few seconds. Tears stung her eyes. She tidied the dropped plate with extra care before covering her eyes with shaking hands.

“Here, now,” said Paint soothingly. “Let me take the boy. You sit and eat your supper, Ellie.”

“I’m so sorry,” she told her hands, too miserable even to look at anyone. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“I do,” said Quill’s voice from the edge of the firelight. “You’re tired. You were sold to traders, separated from your son, made a prize for a Bride Fight, and watched a bunch of men you didn’t know fight for the right to marry you. That ended up okay, and you were re-united with your son. But then you found out your husband had been murdered.” He stepped across camp to lift her to her feet and press her face to his bare chest, one arm holding her close against him. “You’ve been on a horse for days. You’ve been through hell these past few weeks, darlin’. No wonder you’re short-tempered.”

“But I swore at Connor!” she wailed. “I never swear!”

“So, you’re human?” His chuckle vibrated her cheek against his chest. “That’s okay. None of us is perfect either. Doesn’t God forgive you when you goof up?”

He lifted her chin to smile at her, and it came to her that he was comfort wrapped in warm flesh and a sweet smile. She blinked when she realized she’d become so accustomed to the men shifting from wolf to naked human that she hadn’t even registered his nudity until now. But his hold wasn’t sexual; it was reassuring. His arm around her, the warmth of his chest, and his understanding laughter lifted about fifty pounds of worry from her shoulders. “Yes, He does. Thank you for reminding me.”

Sand handed Quill a bundle of blankets and gave Ellie some of the fried rabbit tucked in biscuits. “We’ll take care of Connor and Tommy tonight,” Sand said. “You go rest, Ellie.”

The grass Quill led her through was still damp with rain, fat drops scattering over them as they waded through the tall stalks. She knew the wet would chill her later, but Ellie was glad to be walking away from camp. She loved Connor with every fiber of her being, but there were times she needed to be away from him. The fierce wolves made wonderful babysitters. Quill was an amazing father. She glanced at his shadowy figure beside her with gratitude. They walked in silence, connected by their intertwined fingers. Just that slight touch lifted her spirits.

“Quill, I really am sorry I lost my temper like that.”

“I know.” He lifted their joined hands to kiss her knuckles. “We’ll get you a good rest tonight, and soon you’ll be tucked safe and warm in the den with Taye and all the Pack.”

Hot water would be lovely right now. She squeezed his hand. “Is it going to rain again tonight?”

“Probably. But the spot I picked out for us is in a clump of trees that will give us cover. Besides, we have a tarp to lay over the ground and enough to rig a half-shelter. I’ll keep you warm, I promise.”

She smiled up at him, not able to see much in the dark besides a gleam of white when he returned her smile. “I know you will.”

In fact, knowing he was naked was already warming her. When they reached the cluster of trees, he let her go long enough to lay out the tarp and make a bed for them. While he did that, she shed her clothes, careful to not let them brush the wet grass, and folded them neatly over her shoulder. The rain-damp air raised goose bumps over her arms and belly but didn’t douse the flame of desire that danced between her legs. Her breasts felt heavy, the nipples aching points from the cold or desire or a mix of both.

“Quill,” she whispered. “I’m cold. Come warm me.”

He picked her up, folded clothes and all, and laid her on the blanket. “Darlin’, you should have waited for me,” Quill chided her when he laid his warm body over hers.

Ellie pushed her clothes to the side. “Make love to me. Please make love to me now. I don’t want to think of anything except you for a while.”