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Authors: Cynthia Shelly; Eden Laurenston

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BOOK: Howl for It
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C
HAPTER
F
OURTEEN
T
he sisters all ended up baking at Eggie’s house and once they were finished with the pies, they brought them over to Miss Pauline’s.
By the time the Lewis sisters arrived, the “family dinner” was well under way and Darla would call it more of a party than a dinner. To her, dinners involved sitting at one table inside the dining room, but to the Smiths, it apparently involved many tables set up in rows in the backyard, music, and ’shine. Lots of ’shine. Not surprising, though. For decades, the Smiths had made their Pack money with moonshine.
Darla hadn’t seen Eggie since he’d paid her rather large fine at the Collinstown jail and handed her his truck keys. “Keep it under sixty,” he’d ordered her, and because she’d promised that’s exactly what she did. Much to the annoyance of her sisters.
Oh, what could she say? It was the one thing the Lewis sisters had in common. Their love of fast cars. Even Darla. Nothing was more freeing to her than hitting the gas and making a tight turn without losing control. Very few things in life really beat that feeling as far as she was concerned.
She helped her sisters put out the pies on the dessert table and she had to admit, their food looked
amazing
. As opposed to each one doing her own thing, they’d all worked together to get the pies done in a short amount of time, and she was really proud of her sisters. Then again, how could she still be mad at any of them when they’d gone after those cats like . . . well . . . like dogs after cats when they’d seen the Barrons hit Eggie’s car? So, for the first time in a very long time, they’d worked together and had done a great job.
“I’m gonna find Eggie,” she told Janie.
Her sister didn’t argue, just nodded and smiled. It wasn’t that Janie liked Eggie any more than she had the day before, but Darla had the distinct feeling that the fact that Eggie had paid Darla’s fine without a word of complaint somehow meant something important to her sister. Like he’d passed some test neither of them had known existed.
She walked through the crowd, smiling at people who greeted her. Relatives of Eggie’s that she’d never met but who somehow knew her name. It was strange.
She sniffed the air and walked off into the woods, following Eggie’s scent. She found him sitting on a tree stump, staring off. He looked pensive. Or angry. Or pensive and angry. She really didn’t know.
Standing next to him, Darla started off, “I am
so
sorry about your car.”
Eggie blinked, gazed at her. “My car?”
“Remember?”
“Oh. Yeah.” He shook his head, looked off again. “Can fix that, no problem.”
“You can?”
“Can fix anything with a motor. So can my brothers. Frankie does nice body work, too. He’ll bang that little dent out.”
“Well, I’m sorry I didn’t ask.”
He gazed at her again. “Ask what?”
“About borrowing your car.”
He shrugged. “That don’t matter.”
Really? “But I just took it. I didn’t ask.”
“Wouldn’t have left the keys out if I didn’t want you driving the car.”
“Oh. Well, I’m definitely sorry about the fine.”
Still gazing at her, he asked, “What fine?”
Darla was beginning to get a little frustrated. “The fine you had to pay . . . because I was speeding . . . in your car . . . that I took without your permission?”
“Eh. Don’t really care about that.”
Throwing up her hands, Darla demanded, “Then what do you care about?”
“You.”
His simple response had Darla blushing from her face right down to her dang toes. “Oh.”
“Besides,” he added, “those cops were so impressed.” Eggie grinned. “Where did you learn to drive like that?”
She laughed a little. “Daddy. When we were young, he used to let us take turns sitting in his lap and driving the car around the parking lot of the store. Our feet couldn’t even touch the pedals.”
“And once they could?”
She shrugged. “Then there was no stopping us.” They both laughed and Darla added, “Lord, Momma has never forgiven Daddy for that either. She said it was his fault we were out-of-control heathens.”
His arm reached out and wrapped around her waist, pulling her close. “Look at me, Darla Mae.” She did. “If you need my car, you take my car. You need money, you take it. You don’t need to leave any notes. You need my gun, dammit, woman, you use my gun.”
“I’m a pacifist, Eggie,” she sniffed. “I don’t like guns.” But when Eggie kept staring at her, she added, “I may know how to
use
guns, but I just don’t like them.”
“You know how to use them?”
“Momma insisted. She said every Southern lady should know how to use a gun in case we have any more problems from Yankee soldiers.”
“Lot of Yankee soldiers coming around Smithville?”
“Momma likes to be prepared.”
“Smart lady, which is why I trust her daughter to do what she needs to do. You don’t need to ask.”
“I appreciate that, but . . .”
“But what?”
“If you trust me so much, why did you follow me and Mr. Van Holtz earlier today?”
 
Damn this woman! He honestly couldn’t get anything past her.
Eggie let out a sigh. “I followed because I don’t trust Van Holtz wolves.”
“Don’t trust Van Holtz or don’t trust me?”
“Just told you I trust you, Darla. But, ya know . . .”
“No. I don’t know. What am I supposed to know?”
He shrugged. “Fancy rich wolf with his tea-and-cakes lifestyle.”
“I think he’s more of a coffee man.”
“How am I supposed to compete with that?”
“It’s just coffee.”
Eggie rolled his eyes. “What I mean, Darla Mae, is that he’s rich and charmin’ and can buy you the kind of life you deserve.”
“You think I’d only be with someone who’s rich?”
“No. I think you deserve to only be with someone who’s rich—and the Smiths will never be rich.”
“I didn’t know I was so shallow.”
“I never said—”
“If you think money matters to me, of all people, then I’ve been making a big mistake.”
She tried to pull away but Eggie tightened his arms and pulled her closer. “I know that money doesn’t mean anything to you, Darla. But I also know you deserve to be comfortable.”
Now she looked really disgusted. “Comfortable? You think I want to be
comfortable
?”
Uh-oh.
“Well—”
“You just think I’m some little vapid princess who wants to be pampered?”
Eggie squinted at her and said, “Not if what you just said is considered . . . bad.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “So I guess you heard what he said to me.”
“Yeah.”
“And?”
“And I think he was undressing you with his big, dumb dog eyes. He’s not to be trusted. Plus I heard the Van Holtzes have a real problem with mange.”
“First off, Egbert Ray Smith, Mr. Van Holtz has a mate he’s devoted to. And secondly, the Van Holtzes haven’t had a breakout of mange for at least a decade.”
“That makes me feel better. I also heard they spread distemper. They’re dirty, nasty distemper dogs, runnin’ around, spreading disease to unsuspecting pretty She-wolves like yourself.”
“Eggie Ray!”
“It’s true. The males of that Pack are known for having Canine Transmitted Diseases. CTD.”
“I’ll only say this once to you: The Van Holtzes do not—” Darla stopped talking abruptly and leaned back a bit, eyes narrowing on Eggie’s face. “Egbert Ray Smith . . . are you jealous?”
Eggie snorted. “A Smith jealous of a Van Holtz? Why do you ask? Did hell freeze over?”
“So you’re not jealous?”
“No. I’m not jealous. That’s what the Smiths would call crazy talk.”
“Huh. I see.”
“I have no reason to be jealous of a goddamn—”
“Blaspheme!”
“—Van Holtz, and I’m not about to start now. For anybody. I was just giving you a friendly word of warning.”
“About the Van Holtzes and their CDT?”
“Exactly.”
Darla turned in his arms and sat down on his lap. “Unlike your brothers . . . you’re kind of
quietly
stupid.”
“Sometimes.” Eggie scratched his head. “It’s not my fault, though. It’s
your
fault!”
“My fault?”
“You’re confusing me and making me do stupid and ridiculous things. Things I would never do!”
“Such as?”
“Instead of doing what I do well, which is hunt down these murdering friends of yours—”
“They’re not my friends!”
“—and killing them so you can’t be hurt or at risk ever again, I’m
not
doing that because I know you wouldn’t want me to. So, instead I’m sitting here, about to go have dinner with my
family
. Which is also your fault, ’cause they wouldn’t have invited me if it weren’t for you.”
“Of course they would have.”
“Darla, no one likes having me around.”
“I do.”
Eggie studied her. “You do?”
“I’m here, arguing about dog mange and other ridiculousness, Eggie Ray. And the only reason for that must be because I like being around you. You’re so cute and charming. . . in your own terrifying, predatory way, which works fine for me because, you know . . . She-wolf.”
His arms still around Darla, Eggie hugged her tight, burying his face against the side of her neck. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me, Darla Mae.”
“I know, darlin’, but with some effort, I’m sure we can make that better for you.”
Eggie chuckled and gripped Darla’s waist, lifting her up. She squealed a little and laughed and he loved the sound of it. Turning her around, he brought her down on his lap facing him, her legs straddling his waist.
Once settled, Darla pushed Eggie’s hair off his face and, without fear, looked into his eyes. “Your beard’s growing back.”
“Yep.”
“Will you have to shave it when you go back on duty? And cut your hair?”
“Depends on what they have me doing. I’m not like other Marines, Darla. My training was different, where I’m stationed is different, I rarely wear my uniform, even the job I do is different.”
“Were you drafted?”
He snorted, smiled a little. “Smiths don’t get drafted.”
“No, I mean when there was a draft.”
“Smiths don’t get drafted,” he repeated. “Not after what happened with us during World War I.”
“What happened during World War I?”
Eggie stared at her and finally answered, “Nothing.” When her eyes narrowed, he decided to keep talking. “Anyway, we were told we were no longer allowed in the military except on a case-by-case basis. I actually had six weeks of evaluation before I ever went into Basic Training.”
“Because of the nothing that happened during World War I?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You are the
worst
liar.”
Eggie sighed and admitted, “It ain’t my strong suit.”
Darla started to say something but his momma yelling from the backyard beat her to it. “Eggie! Darla Mae! Come on, you two. We’re about to eat.”
“Be right there,” Darla called back.
“You hungry?” he asked her.
“Starving.” She pressed her hands to his shoulders. “Can I ask you something first, though?”
“Sure.”
“Something you said earlier . . . about not going after Mr. Kozlow’s sons . . .” Eggie nodded. “You said you didn’t because you knew I wouldn’t want you to.”
“Yeah. I knew huntin’ somebody down and getting them before they can get you wouldn’t sit right with you.”
“It wouldn’t. I mean, I know my sisters won’t ever agree with my philosophy on this sort of thing, and I can’t say I’d feel the same way if it was one of my nieces or nephews, but for me . . . personally . . . it would just bother me.”
“I know. That’s why I’m sitting here with you on my lap and my momma screaming for us to come get something to eat and not in San Francisco doing what I do best.”
“Well, it means a lot to me that you take what I say seriously. That you respect me enough.”
“Darla, if they’re standing right in front of us, trying to hurt you, I’ll do whatever I have to. But I know that what Smiths normally do is not what you’d do. I understand that.” He gave a small shrug. “My daddy doesn’t, though.”
BOOK: Howl for It
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