My Sister Is a Werewolf (20 page)

She strolled around a bit more, then returned to the bed, lounging back against the headboard. She was tired, she realized. But that made sense. She’d gotten very little sleep last night. Both she and Jensen had been insatiable.

She smiled at the memory. He was a talented man.

She glanced at the clock, wondering if it was far too early in the day to sneak a nap. She chuckled aloud at the football clock. Then her gaze dropped, noticing a picture frame placed facedown on the nightstand.

Almost reluctantly, she reached out and picked up the picture. It was Jensen with a pretty blonde. From the look of them, it was probably taken a few years ago. There was a fullness to Jensen’s face that was gone now, hinting at his youth.

But it was the blonde that Elizabeth couldn’t stop staring at. She was very pretty with long, very pale hair. Her eyes were a guileless sky blue, her smile truly happy. Jensen had his arm around her, but something in their stance spoke of a more intimate connection than the pose showed.

Elizabeth stared at it a moment longer, then put it back the way she’d found it.

She pulled in a deep breath, trying not to think about that picture. Trying not to question why the relatively innocuous photo had shaken her.

She leaned her head back, staring blankly out at the room. Who was that girl? Had she been someone important to Jensen? Obviously, he still had the photo on his nightstand. But why was it facedown?

As she wondered, she noticed something on the top shelf of his bookcase. A book, or rather what appeared to be a photo album, pink. Very out of place with all the other books on the shelf.

Even as she told herself not to, she pushed off the bed and walked over to reach for the book.

Chapter 19

I
t was a photo album, obviously hand-decorated with red hearts and white lace.

She hesitated; again telling herself she should put it back. This was Jensen’s private property. But her hands didn’t seem willing to listen.

She flipped open the book, her eyes slowly scanning the pictures and the captions and the little decorations added to the pages. She turned another page and another, until she had seen the whole book. And though mainly filled with photos, the book told a very vivid story.

The story of a boy and a girl who had been madly in love. The story of two people who planned to be together forever. Proms, parties. The beach with friends, graduation, heading away to college. And every picture stated one thing very, very clearly.

Jensen had loved the girl who made this book. It was clear in every single picture. There in his dark green eyes. There in that cocky smile.

And the girl had loved him just as completely.

Whoever came up with the adages that pictures don’t lie and a picture is worth a thousand words had known what they were talking about.

She flipped through the album one more time, even though it hurt her. Although it had no right to—she knew that. But it did.

She was carefully placing the book back where she’d found it as Jensen walked back into the room. She spun to face him, but he didn’t seem to note the guilt in her demeanor.

“Sorry about that. One of my patients has a sick mare. I think I’m going to have to go out to his farm and check the horse out.”

“Okay,” Elizabeth agreed, feeling the need to get away from Jensen for a little while. She felt shaken by those pictures, which she knew was unfair. Of course Jensen had had a life before her. She was being ridiculous.

“Why don’t you come with me,” Jensen said as he went to the closet and pulled out a large black bag.

That suggestion pulled her from her shaken thoughts. “Oh, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“It’s fine. I think I know what’s wrong with the horse. And if I’m right, it won’t take long at all. Then we can sneak back here and show my poor neglected bed some action.”

He grinned at her, a sweet, teasing smile.

“I don’t think so.”

“Why not? The beauty of being a vet is that my patients don’t mind who I bring along with me.”

She raised a dubious eyebrow. “You might be surprised.”

A werewolf was definitely a guest most animals did mind tagging along. A lot.

“Are you afraid of horses?”

The question startled her. She was so focused on them being scared of her, she didn’t realize Jensen would think it might be vice versa.

“No. I used to love horses.” She’d once had the prettiest, sweetest-tempered mare. She realized that was the first time she’d thought of Sunny in decades. Although she had wondered, when she’d first changed over, what happened to her dear horse. She needed to ask her brothers what happened to her.

“Used to? Did you get injured by one?”

“No. I... ” Another thing she couldn’t explain, not fully, not totally honestly. The open smile of the blonde in the pictures appeared in her mind. “I just haven’t been around them for a very long time.”

Jensen caught her fingers, pulling her toward the door. “Then you should come with me.”

He hurried her down the stairs and to his truck as if he knew she would argue. Once she was deposited onto the seat and he was inside as well with the engine running, she did try to change his mind.

“Animals tend to be very skittish around me.”

Jensen gave her a disbelieving look. “Yeah, so I’ve noticed.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you have owls and skunks hanging out in your barn while you work. Because deer come right up to your porch. And if I recall correctly, a mouse was on your kitchen counter this morning, like it was your pet.”

“That was all very, very unusual.” Okay, even he found those animals’ behaviors odd, and he didn’t have the whole story.

But horses seemed to be particularly sensitive to werewolves. She didn’t know why.

“I’ll just wait in the truck. I think that’s the best plan.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, but he only nodded.

After a few more turns, he pulled the truck up to a white farmhouse with black shutters. A man came out to meet them before Jensen could even hop out of the truck.

“Lee, is the horse worse?” Jensen asked, reaching back into the truck for the black bag.

“’Bout the same. I’m just coming out to tell you that Missy just called, and she can’t get the old station wagon started. She’s over in Hillsboro with the kids, so I’m going to have to head over there. Are you okay to tend Ginger without me?”

“Sure. Go on. I have Elizabeth with me if I need someone to help hold her.”

Lee, a man in his late thirties with salt-and-pepper hair and a lined, leathered face, nodded at her and tipped his worn cowboy hat. “I appreciate you coming over here on a Saturday.”

“Not a problem,” Jensen said. “Go on. I’ll handle the mare.”

“She’s being more than a little ornery. Be careful. I really do hate to leave.”

“It’s fine,” Jensen assured him, not seeming the least bit worried about the owner’s warning.

Lee t
hank
ed him again and then loped toward a beat-up pickup truck that seriously looked like it had no more hope of starting than the mentioned old station wagon. But the ancient vehicle did start, rumbling grumpily as Lee turned out onto the main road.

Jensen started toward the barn, and she remembered his past mention of getting kicked in the head by a horse once. Although she really didn’t believe she could be the slightest bit of help—in fact, she might just make matters worse—she had to call after him.

“Wait!”

Jensen stopped, turning to look at her.

She opened the door and jumped down from the truck. “I want to go. I don’t think I’ll be much help, but at least I can call 911 if this crazed horse injures you.”

Jensen shook his head. “Elizabeth, if the horse is really going to make you nervous, then you don’t have to go.”

“Whatever. You dragged me here. I’m going.”

Jensen waited for her to join him, and laughed at her disgruntled mutter.

As they approached the barn, Elizabeth tensed, her steps slowing. All she needed was for this poor horse to go totally wild and really hurt Jensen. Still, she felt she had to be there. Jensen shouldn’t be alone with an animal that was unpredictable.

She thought of her behavior that night that she’d started to change, the night that she still believed she could stay away from this man. He’d been as close to a feral, dangerous animal as he could get. T
hank
God she’d somehow controlled herself. Even now, she shivered at what could have happened if she’d totally shifted.

Jensen pushed open the large barn door and headed straight to the last stall.

“Have you been here before?” she asked, casting a wary glance at the few horses that bobbed their heads over the stall gates. They sniffed the air, their large nostrils flaring and twitching as she passed. But none reacted with fear.

“Yes. And I know that Lee puts his sick horses in the last stall. It has a little more space than some of the others.”

He stopped at the stall he mentioned, opening it slowly. Before he stepped inside, he spoke to the horse low and even. Most of his words were reassurances that he wouldn’t hurt the ailing animal, but it wasn’t the words the animal would react to, it was his tone.

He also kept his movement slow and fluid. Nothing to jar, nothing that would threaten. He set down his bag and then carefully reached for the animal’s nose. He touched it, murmuring more quiet reassurances.

Then he turned to Elizabeth. “I really think she’d be okay for me to look at alone, if you are nervous.”

“No,” she said, keeping her voice low, too. “I’m okay.” In fact, she was fascinated, watching him work. His gentleness, his calmness soothed her, too.

He left the horse and went to his bag. When he unzipped it, the horse shifted a little, reacting to the sound.

Jensen stopped and again talked quietly to the animal, although this time the horse didn’t seem to respond so readily. She pranced just a bit, her ears pulling back.

“Shh,” Jensen said, easing open his bag and pulling out two syringes. “Shh, big girl. I’m just going to take a little blood and then give you a shot of something that will make you feel better.”

The horse pranced more, and Elizabeth thought her huge brown eyes were getting a wild glint to them.

Jensen continued to talk calmly as he readied the syringes. The horse seemed to respond a little, but when Jensen rose, though he also kept that movement fluid, the horse pranced back, her nostrils flaring, a huffing noise escaping her.

Jensen didn’t back away, but he didn’t move forward, either.

“Elizabeth,” he said, not looking at her but keeping his eyes trained on the animal, “I think I might need you. But if she gets too agitated, I’ll just have to wait until Lee gets back.”

Elizabeth hesitated, afraid that she was the problem. She didn’t believe approaching the horse would really help.

Still, she could see that Jensen did need help. And if she agitated the horse more, then he’d leave with her and wait for the owner.

Carefully, she stepped into the stall, the hay under her feet making her approach noiseless. She stopped a few feet from the animal, suddenly a little scared that she might get trampled.

The horse whipped her large head in her direction, eyes definitely hinting at wildness, maybe only the kind of madness that accompanied illness, but Elizabeth still had to fight to keep from backing away.

Instead, she held out her palm to the animal. The mare’s nose flared, then twitched; then, to her utter amazement, the horse stepped forward and nuzzled her palm.

She rubbed the velvety nose, remembering how much she’d loved petting Sunny. The horse stepped closer, seeming to want more from her.

She stroked up her forehead and back down. She murmured to the animal, telling her how pretty she was. How good. All the while, the horse nuzzled her back.

“Okay.
Don
e.”

Elizabeth blinked and turned to gape at Jensen. He was moving back to his bag to drop the empty antibiotic syringe and blood sample into his bag.

“You already did it?” She blinked again. “She didn’t even react.”

Jensen grinned at her. “She was too busy adoring you.”

As if in agreement, the horse nuzzled her hair, the brush of her velvety nose making Elizabeth giggle.

Jensen looped his medical bag on his shoulder, then moved to pet the horse, who didn’t even acknowledge the touch. He stepped out of the stall and waited for Elizabeth.

Elizabeth whispered good-bye to the sweet horse. Then she stepped outside, too. Jensen secured the gate.

“You should have told me you’re a horse whisperer,” he said as they left the barn.

“I didn’t know I was.” She was shocked at how the horse had reacted.

“Well, I think I’m going to have to get you on payroll. You’d sure save me lots of injuries from kicks and bites.”

She was sure the horse’s reaction had been a fluke. Like the other animals. Although how many flukes could she have?

“Well, I just need to drop this blood sample off to the lab I use in West Pines—then I’m yours for the day.”

Elizabeth smiled at his offer, but again she wondered about the blonde in the photos. He’d sure looked like he was hers. Totally hers.

It wasn’t even fair to wonder about that woman and what had happened. After all, she’d been far from open with Jensen. She had more secrets than he could ever have. Whoever the blonde was, she hadn’t been who Brody was to her.

She was practically married. There hadn’t been any vows, there was no ring, but in many ways what she’d agreed to in mating with Brody was even more binding.

Jensen talked to her about what he thought was wrong with the horse—likely an easily treated infection. Elizabeth nodded and made the appropriate responses, but still her mind swirled around who the blonde had been.

Jensen pulled up to a medical lab that handled his animal bloodwork, too. He labeled and enveloped the sample and put it in the dropbox.

“Okay,” he said as he slid back into the truck. “What should we do now? I must admit I’m feeling a little disappointed that we didn’t get to play doctor.”

Elizabeth smiled—she knew he could play vet with her anytime.

“What’s going on?” Jensen asked, turning slightly in the seat to face her. “You have been preoccupied since we left the horse.”

She didn’t answer, afraid if she opened her mouth questions that she had no right to ask would pop out.

“Before we left the house,” he added. “On the ride to Lee’s, I thought you were just nervous. But now, I think something was bothering you. Still is.”

She shook her head. “No. It’s just... who is the girl in the picture by your bed?”