The Alpha's Daughter (10 page)

"Oh, my…" She almost slipped and said her
mother which might have given her away. "I tasted it when I was a
cub and liked it. How do I get to Ellie's?"

The walk to Ellie's was a pleasant one with
the early morning sun shining through the trees and birds flitting
about everywhere. Squirrels scolded her from branches far above her
head and she startled a doe and her fawn grazing by the side of the
rutted road. Jazz could see how her mother would miss this. The
desert was striking in its own way, but this, this was where a
wolver belonged and the wolf inside her agreed.

She took a deep breath, pulling in the scents
surrounding her, familiarizing herself and her wolf with their new
surroundings. Even the earth smelled richer here and she knew if
she was to stay here, her wolf would not be content to run once a
year. She paused several times to listen to the rustling of the
wind through the branches and once to listen to the sound of water
running somewhere deep in the woods. The road forked and Ellie's
place was up to the left.

Down to the right, she saw three people, two
men and a girl; all three dressed in black and gathered around what
she thought might be a Harley motorcycle. They weren't exactly
hidden, but they were tucked back into the trees, probably to give
any trucks or cars that came their way room to pass. Jazz didn't
think much about it except to wonder if the three were from around
here or from wherever that guy, Cho, came from. It didn't really
matter. It was none of her business.

Jazz was early. In spite of her dawdling, the
walk hadn't taken nearly as long as she thought it would. She
knocked on the door, someone hollered for her to come in, and she
walked in on what she would come to think of as the early morning
Dawson family chaos.

A boy, not Tommyboy, was frantically
searching the living room. "Has anybody seen my math book?" he
called. "Who took my math book?"

"Who'd want your math book?" Tommyboy boy
walked in rummaging through a bright pink backpack. A girl maybe
two years older, pushed him into the wall and grabbed the pack.

"Stay out of my stuff, Tommyboy." Tommyboy
held on to the pack and the girl called to the other room. "Ma!
Tell him to give me back my stuff! He got the same pack of pencils
I did. It's not my fault he loses all of his."

"Aw, come on, Luce. It's just a damn pencil."
Tommyboy's fist plunged back into the bag.

"Thomas John Dawson, you'd better watch your
mouth or you're going to find a bar of soap in it." Ellie Dawson
came charging into the living room with a pencil in her hand.
"There," she said, shoving it toward Tommyboy. She looked over at
the girl he was arguing with. "It's just a damn pencil."

"But they're my pencils, Ma. You bought him
the same and now he's stealing mine," the little girl complained.
"He's always stealing my stuff."

"Quit stealing your sister's stuff," Ellie
said as she picked a jacket up from the chair, threw it at Tommyboy
and then turned her attention to the younger boy. "Justice, your
math book is on the floor by your bed right where you left it. Now,
y'all better skedaddle or you'll miss the bus. Daddy's working
today so there's no one here to drive you and I swear, y'all miss
that bus again and none of you will be sitting for a week." She
glanced up at Jazz and laughed. "I'll be with you in a minute.
There's coffee in the kitchen."

Jazz squeezed by the scrambling pups and
ducked into the hallway leading to the kitchen where she had to
pass yet another Dawson youngster, a tall young man who blushed
furiously as their shoulders brushed. This must be Matt whose jeans
she now wore. She touched his arm.

"Thanks for the loan of the jeans, man. They
were a lifesaver."

He turned an even darker shade of red. "No
problem," he squeaked, but didn't stop and she heard a much deeper
version of his voice from the living room. "Come on, you guys, quit
giving Ma a hard time. Let's go."

Tom Dawson was sitting at the kitchen table
amidst the remnants of breakfast. He gave her a friendly nod and
sipped his coffee. The front door slammed and Ellie came back into
the kitchen. She pointed an accusing finger at her husband.

"You too, Mister. You miss out on this job
because you're late and I'll skin you, too." Impatient, she grabbed
the cup from his hand. "I mean it, Tom."

"Aw, keep your shirt on, Ellie," he said,
glancing at the clock over the sink, "Ralph said I had to be there
by eight and he'd get me on. It'll only take me twenty minutes to
get there."

"Unless something happens on the road or six
guys get there before you do. It's a summer's worth of work, Tom.
We need the money." Ellie motioned to the door with the pile of
breakfast plates she held in her hand. "Tommyboy's already outgrown
the jeans we just bought and Lucy says her shoes pinch and oh!" A
fork clattered to the floor. "Now look what you made me do. Just go
on, now, git." No longer smiling, she was flustered and angry.

Tom rose from the table and Jazz wasn't sure
what to do, where to look. No woman she knew would ever talk to her
mate like that and not expect to get smacked for it. In her
father's pack, women stayed out of men's business and where the
money came from was men's business. Jazz was even more surprised
when Tom came around the table and kissed his wife's cheek. "I'll
get the job, honey. Everything'll be all right."

And Ellie's rigid shoulders relaxed. "I know
it will," she sighed, "It always is."

"And always will be," Tom said, cupping the
cheek he'd kissed in his palm. "You and me will make it right."

"We always do," Ellie agreed softly.

"Where's our girl this morning?" Tom asked on
his way out of the room. "She's not on some silly diet again, is
she? Not good to be missing breakfast."

"No, she said Judy was driving her to school
today so she walked up there early while you were in the
shower."

"Shower?" Jazz interrupted another
conversation that was none of her business. "You have a
shower?"

"She better be riding with Judy and not that
hoodlum from over the hill," he called from the living room.

Ellie had no answer to that, but called a
cheerful goodbye.

Jazz suddenly thought of the three black clad
people she'd seen on her way here. By the way they'd stood, they'd
looked young.

"Sit down, girl. You look like one of them
tornado survivors, all dazed and confused about how you're still
standin' when nothing else is." Ellie reached for a mug. "You want
breakfast?"

"No, no thanks, I've already had mine," Jazz
told her, still trying to make sense out of what she'd seen of
Ellie, her family, and her mate. "Your mate seems… nice."

"You say that like it's something you didn't
expect." Ellie scraped the last of the eggs from the frying pan
onto her plate along with the remaining pork chop and brought it to
the table.

"Things are different here, that's all," Jazz
hedged.

"Hmph. I always figured most folks lived like
us. Little more organized, maybe, a little more money. How's it
where you come from?" Ellie sounded more curious than nosey.

Jazz decided to be honest and hope she didn't
offend. "You threatened your pups, but they didn't look scared,"
she said because she didn't know where to begin.

Ellie laughed, clearly not offended. "Oh,
honey, if I did half the things I threaten to do, they'd all be
dead by now. They know when it's just talk and when I'm at my
limit. We'd probably be better off if they were a little scared of
me."

"It's not that way where I come from, not
with pups or… with mates," she said hesitantly. This wasn't
something that was talked about. What went on behind closed doors
was no one's business, but the bruises spoke for themselves. "The
way you spoke to your mate…"

Ellie sat back in her chair, eyes narrowed.
"You thought what? He'd get mad? Throw things? Hit me?"

Jazz nodded her head to all three.

"Girl, I don't know what kind of wolvers
you've been passing your time with, but I can tell you they were
the wrong kind. Is that how your folks lived?"

Jazz shrugged and nodded again. She
remembered her father backhanding her mother and she'd seen the
results of his taking his belt to Margie and she'd sworn no man
would ever do it to her.

"That's how everybody lived or almost
everybody."

She thought of Moose. His mate, Janice, was
tough and could hold her own against any of the other women, but
she smiled more than most and her eyes never darted with the cold
wariness you saw in other women's eyes when their mates walked in.
Janice's eyes always turned warm and soft when she saw Moose.

How many times had Uncle Moose told her
during their training sessions, "You don't let nobody push you
around. Nobody. You hear me, Jazzy girl? Nobody."

He'd say it so fiercely. Jazz wondered now if
there were things he, too, wouldn't say aloud. Could it be that his
message got through even though she never understood his
intent?

"And no one did anything to stop it? Where
was your Alpha?"

Jazz had an insane impulse to reply, "Home,
beating his Mate. I ought to know. I heard it and saw the results
of it and I hated her for it, because she didn't have the guts to
stand up to him."

But she only shrugged again because the
thought shamed her, because in the end, she'd had no more courage
than the Mate. The first time her father, the Almighty Alpha, used
his fists on her, she'd crumbled. She'd broken the second Law of
the Pack. She'd allowed the wolf to rule her human and she'd tucked
her tail between her legs and bowed to his abuse, knowing it wasn't
the dominant Alpha wolf who put her in her place, but the brutal
man who was her father.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, though she wasn't
sure what for.

At some point, Ellie had scooted her chair
around beside Jazz and put her arm around her. "Oh, honey, no
wonder you thought I was going to hit you," she said,
misinterpreting the apology.

Jazz didn't correct her. The apology was
owed. She blinked her eyes and turned her head away from the
kindness.

"So," she said instead, "What kind of laundry
are we talking about?"

Ellie took the hint and said no more on the
subject.

The rest of the morning was spent doing
laundry for Doc and four other single wolvers in the pack. There
wasn't that much. Jazz folded while Ellie ironed and in between she
helped Ellie with her own household chores, not because she had to,
but because she was enjoying the company. Ellie was a wealth of
local gossip, which she swore was common knowledge and she
delivered it all with a good natured smile.

"You can't live in a place this small and not
know everyone's business," she laughed, "I'm just filling you in on
what everyone else already knows. You've met the twins, right? Your
mission is to figure out which one was mated to Dear Ernest. Yep,
Edna, Edith and Dear Ernest. They always refer to him as Dear
Ernest, never as one or the other's mate, though they do talk about
the ceremony, usually when there's a new mating in the pack. It's a
mystery, that's what it is."

"How about the Alpha or the Mate? Don't they
know?"

"If they do, they're not telling," Ellie
laughed, "Personally, I think they shared him the way they do
everything else, though it's hard to picture those two sweet little
old ladies in a threesome."

Jazz laughed along with her and then sobered.
"I really do owe you an apology. You're not who I thought you
were."

Ellie brushed the apology away with a wave of
her hand. "Save your I'm sorrys for Donna. My sister's not near as
easy as I am, but her bark's a lot worse than her bite. She's
coming over for lunch."

Now that they weren't rolling in the mud,
Jazz could see the sisterly resemblance went much farther than
their build. In ten year's time, Ellie knew exactly what she'd look
like and she was right about her sister's disposition.

"You had no right," Donna said in answer to
Jazz's apology.

"I know that now, but I didn't then." Jazz
owed the apology, but she wasn't about to be bullied.

"You could have hurt Ellie and she'd got
enough on her plate with too many mouths and not enough money. She
don't need doctor bills piling up on top. How much did he charge
you?" she asked Ellie bluntly.

"I don't know. Tom took care of it," Ellie
replied evasively. More chicken salad?" She asked Jazz.

Jazz was full, but she knew a woman seeking
escape when she saw one. "Sure," she said brightly, "It's
delicious. What seasonings did you use?"

Donna wasn't so easily put off. "Hmph. If
you've got nothing, Tom's got less. I'll stop by later and see
what's owed."

"We're fine, Donna. Tom started work today.
Stay out of it."

Jazz intervened. "It's my fault. I should be
the one that pays. I'll work it out with Doc."

"You sleeping with him?"

"Donna!"

"Well, Edna said she was running around buck
naked up there the other morning so I don't suppose she minds my
asking," Donna said, not the least repentant.

"I wasn't naked! I was wearing a tee shirt
that came down to my knees. It was what I wore to bed and it was
seven o'clock in the morning."

The look Donna gave her said what she thought
of women who were still in their nightclothes at seven in the
morning. "So you're saying you didn't sleep with him." She eyed
Jazz speculatively.

"I didn't say one way or the other and I
don't expect to anytime soon because it's none of your damn
business." At that moment, Jazz wished she'd broken the woman's
jaw. Her fist was clenched and she was tempted to rectify her
mistake.

"Donna! That's enough." Ellie's face was
flaming with embarrassment. She went to the refrigerator and
brought out the remains of an apple pie.