Werewolf in Alaska: A Wild About You Novel (3 page)

“Great.” Picking up a basket, she started toward the grocery aisle.

“Jake Hunter came in this morning.”

“Oh?” As she paused and turned back toward the counter, she hoped she wasn’t blushing.

Hearing Jake’s name conjured up a potent image of his extremely ripped and completely naked body right before he’d plunged into the lake the previous night, and the night before that, and every night since he’d come home. He had a predictable routine that included skinny-dipping around nine p.m. Once she’d identified the pattern, she’d organized her work schedule around it.

She justified her ogling as harmless entertainment for a thirty-two-year-old woman who wasn’t getting any. Jake’s was the only ogle-worthy male body in her world these days. Lionel was too young and Ted was a sweetie but not exactly hot stuff. A girl had to have some fun, even if it was only of the voyeuristic kind.

She’d been trying to remedy her lack of a love life, but the logistics were tricky. She didn’t want a guy who was attracted to her money and fame, and she was protective of her privacy. Her girlfriends in Fairbanks had talked her into signing up with an online dating site so she could preview potential dates without giving her true identity or exact location.

Unfortunately she hadn’t found anyone on those sites who merited a coffee date, let alone a lifetime commitment. She was on the verge of giving up that effort but hadn’t devised an alternative plan. Oh, well. She loved her work, and finding time for a relationship would be difficult, anyway.

Of course, if Jake Hunter came calling, she might sing a different tune. But he obviously didn’t want to interact with her at all. He hadn’t even responded to the note she’d sent three years ago. It seemed for now she’d have to be content with her binoculars and her fantasies.

Ted rubbed the top of his bald head, which he did whenever he was uncomfortable with the conversation. “I thought I should tell you . . . he wants to give me the carving he bought.”

“Give it to you?” She was thoroughly insulted. And hurt. All this time she’d felt some satisfaction that Jake at least liked her work even if he didn’t much like her. “Does he realize that it’s worth a lot?”

“Guess so. He told me I could sell it and take a cruise.”

“A very long cruise.” The more Rachel thought about it, the more irritated she became. Jake had the distinction of owning her first-ever wolf carving. Knowing that he was trying to dump it and wasn’t even interested in making money on the deal galled her. “Why doesn’t he sell it himself?”

“I don’t know.”

“If he’s worried about the notoriety of owning that first piece, he could sell it through a third party.”

“I offered to handle that for him, or find someone else who would. He told me to do whatever I wanted with it because he didn’t need any money out of the deal. I suppose he doesn’t, but still, it’s strange.”

More like a stab to the heart, but Rachel didn’t want to let on how much it bothered her. He’d rejected her gesture of friendship three years ago, and now he was rejecting her work. He might be gorgeous, but she would have to stop ogling him every night, because he was turning out to be a cold bastard.

Unless there was more to the story. She gazed at Ted. “Is there something you’re not telling me? Did you save his life years ago and you became blood brothers? Does he owe you his life and giving you the carving is his way of settling the score?”

Ted laughed. “That’s a creative thought, Rachel, but I’m afraid that’s not the answer. We’ve had a friendly relationship, but I wouldn’t say we’re close. I pick up his mail for him whenever he leaves town, but Jake’s a hard guy to get to know. He’s lived in Polecat for around ten years, but I couldn’t tell you much about him except he gets a lot of outdoor magazines.”

“And now he’s ready to give away a valuable piece of art rather than risk selling it himself . . .” Rachel brightened. “I’ll bet he’s in the witness protection program!”

“I seriously doubt that.”

“Okay, he could be an international spy, or a drug runner, or a hit man for the mob, or—”

“Whoa, there, Nellie. Don’t go letting your imagination get completely out of control. Jake’s your average Alaskan backcountry character, maybe somewhat quirky, maybe somewhat antisocial, but with a good heart. Little towns like Polecat draw people who don’t care for country clubs and cocktail parties. You know that.”

“I do.” Rachel smiled a little sheepishly. “It’s why I’m here, after all. When I’m working, I can be as antisocial as anybody.”

“And God help the person who comes between you and your chocolate.”

“Exactly. Lionel’s lucky he’s so adorable, or he’d be toast.” She sighed. “Okay, you’ve convinced me that Jake is no more weird than the rest of us, but it’s damned irritating that he wants to dump my carving. I have to admit it feels like a slap in the face.”

“I knew it would, but I had to tell you. If he shows up with the carving this afternoon like he promised, I didn’t want it to come as a surprise to you that I have it.”

“I appreciate that.”

“In fact, I’ll call you if he brings it over, because I want you to sell it instead of me.”

She nodded. “I can do that for you, Ted. I have more contacts and can get you a really good price.” She might even decide to buy it herself and keep it as a reminder of her first sale. No, that wouldn’t work, because it would also remind her of her first customer, Jake the Jerk.

“I don’t want the money, either.”

“What the hell? Why doesn’t anybody want the money? Is this carving cursed in some way I don’t know about?”

“No, of course not. But it doesn’t seem fair that I should profit from something I didn’t make in the first place. You should have the money.”

“But he’s giving it to you, not me.”

“Well, he could hardly give it back to you, now, could he? That would be rude.”

And it would require him to actually talk to her, unless he left it on her doorstep like a piece of unwanted trash. “Ted, he’s already being rude. Surely he realizes that I’ll find out what he did with it. Obviously he doesn’t care.”

“Would you rather he’d pitched it into the fireplace and hadn’t bothered to contact either of us?”

Her heart gave a quick thump of alarm. “Oh, God, do you think he would do that? Is he so eager to get rid of it?”

Ted’s gaze gentled behind his glasses. “Apparently he doesn’t want it anymore, Rachel. People change. Their tastes change. Maybe he’s dating someone who doesn’t care for it.”

Rachel made a face. She’d rather have this be Jake’s decision than one dictated by some woman who planned to redecorate his cabin. “Is he dating someone?”

“Not that I know of. I’m just looking for reasons like you are. Listen, you have the world at your feet. Forget about Jake’s opinion. It doesn’t matter.”

“You’re absolutely right. I just . . . no, it really doesn’t matter. And if Jake wants to ditch that carving, we need to find someone who would be thrilled to have it.” She had another thought. “Do you want to keep it?”

“Knowing what it’s worth . . . I don’t. Thanks, anyway, but it would make me a nervous wreck. I couldn’t tell anybody, and you know how talkative I get after a couple of beers. I’d end up blabbing about it to somebody, and then I’d have to install a sophisticated alarm system, and then—”

“Chaos. Jake Hunter has created chaos.”

“Just remember that he didn’t throw it in the fire. He could have done that and we’d never know.”

“You’re right, and I’m grateful he didn’t. Call me if and when he brings it over. I’ll come and pick it up. Then we’ll decide what to do next.” With another sigh she resumed her grocery shopping.

When she came to the candy display, she loaded up. Now that Jake was discarding her work, watching him skinny-dip would bring more pain than pleasure, so that nightly pleasure would go the way of the dodo bird. In order to compensate, she’d need a lot more chocolate.

Deliver
ing the wolf carving to Ted had been tougher than Jake had expected, almost like giving up a family member. In a way, he had been. But as much as the carving resembled his father, he didn’t think of Benjamin Hunter when he looked at it. He thought about Rachel.

The mantel looked a little empty now, but he’d get used to that. Her note from three summers ago still lay there, and he walked over and picked it up, intending to throw it away. Unfolding it, he read it one last time.

Maybe he wouldn’t throw it away just yet. He glanced at his bookcase on the far side of his living room. The books were a hodgepodge of paperback mysteries, sci-fi, and his collection of Alaskan trail guides. None were expensive except for the glossy full-color hardback titled
Alaskan Artisans of Today.

Crossing to the bookcase, he pulled out the book and opened it to the section devoted to Rachel Miller, wood-carver. He tucked the note there, closed the book, and returned it to the shelf. Someday he’d get rid of the book, too, but it had a really nice picture of Rachel next to illustrations of her work. You didn’t just chuck a book like that. Anyway, he didn’t look at it much.

At least the carving was out of here, and in three days he’d be on a plane bound for San Francisco to meet with Giselle Landry, a prominent Were who supported his cause but continued to serve on the Worldwide Organization of Werewolves board. He hoped to talk her into resigning and joining WARM. Plus she was an attractive female Were, and he needed to spend more time with his own kind instead of pining for a human he couldn’t have.

Whether his meeting with Giselle worked out well or not, it would be a welcome relief to come home from that trip and not be greeted by the carving on the mantel. Or so he tried to convince himself. At the moment he missed seeing it there.

Ted had acted reluctant to take the piece. After it was too late, Jake figured out that Ted probably would tell Rachel. She’d likely be insulted that her first customer had given away her valuable work, but he couldn’t put her hurt feelings ahead of banishing his obsession with her. Ditching her carving was a necessary first step.

Knowing Ted, he’d turn around and give the piece to Rachel if she asked, and maybe that was what should happen. It was her first wolf, so she ought to have it for sentimental reasons. One thing was for sure—he couldn’t keep it any longer.

If ridding himself of the carving didn’t work, then he’d put his place up for sale. He didn’t want to do that. Polecat suited him, although getting out of here to travel for WARM was a challenge, especially in the winter.

Ironically, Rachel had solved that problem for him. She’d lobbied for better Internet service in the area, and last fall she’d succeeded. Jake’s remote location combined with his new political cause meant he needed to become adept at navigating the Web, and he had. Face-to-face contact was important during this first year of the campaign, but soon he’d be able to manage WARM almost exclusively online.

That meant more time for his business and more time to enjoy his cabin and its proximity to the lake. He liked that idea, assuming he could get over his fixation on Rachel. If he couldn’t . . . well, then, he’d put permanent distance between them by moving to some other small Alaskan town.

In the meantime, he’d continue with his nightly swims, which helped dampen his lust. Walking out on his deck, he began stripping off his clothes. Then he paused when a movement off to the far right of Rachel’s cabin caught his eye. Leaving his shirt unbuttoned, he walked back inside and grabbed his binoculars.

He swore softly when he got a good look at what had caught his attention. A good-sized grizzly meandered along, headed toward Rachel’s place. Uh-oh. A cub trailed behind. Mama and baby bear. Not good. He knew from close observation that Rachel liked to roam back and forth between her cabin and her shop while she worked. A mother bear with a cub could be extremely touchy.

He cursed himself for not having Rachel’s phone number, although with her power saw running, she probably wouldn’t hear the ring. He could drive around to her place, but navigating that winding road would take too long.

He knew the fastest route very well. Running full out, he could make it to Rachel’s cabin in less than ten minutes. In wolf form he could communicate telepathically with the bear and assure her that Rachel was no threat to her cub. It might help avert a potential disaster.

Ripping off his clothes, he stretched out on the wooden floor of his cabin and willed himself into his shift. Contrary to what most humans believed, he didn’t need a full moon to do it. He could shift on demand. Also contrary to human belief, a Were’s bite couldn’t turn a human into a werewolf. A werewolf was born, not made.

But Jake couldn’t imagine humans giving up their cherished ideas about menacing werewolves, even when confronted by shape-shifters who were members of the Fortune 500 and wore Armani to the office. Revealing their presence in society would cause panic at the very least. Personally he thought bloody battles would follow as fear replaced reason on both sides.

His transformation complete, he rose from the floor and shook himself from head to tail. Jake Hunter, wilderness guide, had been replaced by a midnight black wolf with green eyes, a Were that many claimed was the spitting image of his father. But Jake’s nose was squared off, a trait he’d inherited from the Wallace side. He was proud of that nose.

Before opening the slider and walking onto the deck, he checked the surrounding area. Deserted. He nudged the door open with his nose. His parents had urged him to install a werewolf-friendly door with paw-sensitive commands on a keypad, but he’d resisted.

Unlike the mansion his folks had owned in Idaho, this was a simple cabin by the lake, one he might sell someday. So instead of an elaborate electronic keypad, he’d put in a top-of-the-line sliding door that moved effortlessly with a simple nose bump.

Locking it wasn’t necessary. Polecat had a zero crime rate, and no wild animal would push its way into a cabin that smelled like a dangerous predator. Besides, his door solution wouldn’t arouse curiosity in any human who might buy the place eventually. He was out in a flash and slid the door closed. One quick bound took him to the path leading around the lake.

He kept to the shadows and stayed alert to any noise or movement that would betray the presence of humans, either on foot or riding trail bikes. With luck he could handle the bear without attracting any attention. If the grizzly had moved off in a different direction, he’d hang around a while to make sure Rachel was safe. Then tomorrow he’d notify Ted that he’d spotted a bear and cub near her place. Ted would let her know to be careful.

As he neared her workshop, he picked up the tang of fresh-cut wood wafting from the open window, along with the almond scent he associated with Rachel. Unfortunately, the musky odor of bear grew stronger by the second, too. Mama and baby had continued on the same trajectory, bringing them closer to Rachel’s cabin with each lumbering step.

Maybe he could head them off before . . . nope. Too late. The cub rounded the corner of the cabin and ambled across the well-worn path that ran along the lake between Rachel’s back door and her workshop. Its mother was about to follow when Rachel came out of her shop carrying a cardboard cylinder in the crook of her arm.

Chances were it contained plans for an installation of her work, but Jake thought it looked way too much like a rifle. He hoped the bear wouldn’t think so, too. Rachel was talking on her cell phone. Ordinarily she was very observant, but for whatever reason, she was too engrossed in the conversation to notice her surroundings.

Jake held his breath. Maybe, just maybe, she’d keep walking, oblivious, and the mother bear would let her pass by. She was halfway between her workshop and her cabin when that hope died.

A warning growl from the mother bear caused Rachel to glance up. The cub shuffled its feet, and Rachel’s gaze slowly swung to the other side of the path. The color drained from her face. Anyone who’d lived in the backwoods of Alaska understood the danger of standing between a mother and her cub.

Hidden in the trees bordering Rachel’s property, Jake sent a telepathic message to the bear.
Don’t harm the woman. She won’t hurt your baby.

The reply was filled with panic.
She has a gun! She’s going to shoot him!

Jake kept his eyes on the bear as he edged out into the open, closer to the bear.
It’s not a gun. It’s a cardboard tube.

It is a gun! She’s too close!

The bear’s hysteria worried him. He moved a few more steps toward her.
Just walk past her and take your baby out of this area. Nothing will happen to him. I promise the woman’s not a threat.

She’s going to kill him!

No, she isn’t. Don’t attack!

Must save my baby.

•   •   •

Rachel looked back toward the mother bear, but then she broke eye contact immediately. She remembered Grandpa Ike telling her that staring at a predator could be interpreted as a challenge. Some challenge. Terror sent cold sweat trickling down her sides.

On the other end of the phone connection, Otis Wilberforce, a Chicago attorney, kept asking what was wrong.

She whispered her response. “Bear.”

“A bear? Well, stay inside, okay? And lock the door!”

How she longed to be behind a locked door. Her heart pumped frantically as all her instincts told her to run. She resisted. Her grandfather had also told her that running was the worst thing a person could do.

Besides, the bear was too close and she was too far from either door to make it safely inside. Maybe, if she stayed very still, the bear would go away. Or maybe not, with the little one on the other side of the path.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! Why hadn’t she looked before she’d walked out the workshop door? But in all the time she’d spent here, she’d never come face-to-face with a bear, let alone two of them.

She struggled to think clearly. What would be the smartest response? Drop and roll into a ball? Lift her arms and look bigger and more difficult to manage? Her paralyzed brain refused to guide her.

“Rachel? Are you okay?” Otis sounded worried. “You’re not outside, are you?”

“Yes. ’Bye.” Locating the disconnect button with her thumb, she ended the call. From the corner of her eye she could see the animal’s powerful muscles bunch. Oh, God. The mother bear was going to charge. Rachel sensed the intent before the low growl came, a growl filled with menace.

She was about to be mauled by a bear with claws the length of carving knives and teeth that could sever an arm in one bite. She might survive and she might not. But either way, she was in for a world of pain.

Gulping with fear, she faced the animal. Maybe if she threw the phone right at its head . . . no, not good. She was shaking so much her aim would be lousy, and besides, the phone was too light. It would just bounce off.

Shoving the phone in her pocket, she lifted the cardboard tube, brandishing it as if prepared to do some damage. The tube might look scary enough to fool the bear. In any case, she’d be damned if she’d go down without a fight, short and pitiful though it might be.

As the bear charged, something black streaked in front of it, blocking its path. Rachel stumbled back, eyes wide. A wolf! Surely not
the
wolf, and yet . . . no, it couldn’t be. Launching itself at the bear, the wolf closed its jaws over the bear’s throat and hung on.

The bear roared and stood on its hind legs, becoming a seven-foot nightmare of animal rage. It wrapped both front paws around the wolf and raked its claws down one side of the wolf’s body. The wolf didn’t let go. Dropping to all fours, the bear swung its massive head from side to side, flinging the wolf around like a rag doll. The wolf held on.

After what seemed like hours, the mother bear stopped trying to shake the wolf loose. She bowed her head, trembling. Slowly the wolf released its grip and backed away. It was bleeding profusely from deep gashes in its side. Neither creature seemed to have won the battle, but miraculously, it was over.

With one more glance at the wolf, the grizzly walked past Rachel and over to her cub. Both of them padded away as the wolf gazed after them. It was as if they’d agreed to disagree and end the fight.

But the wolf had paid a high price for interfering. Blood soaked its black coat. Its flanks heaved as it watched the bear and cub move out of the area. Rachel couldn’t get her mind around what had just happened. Why had one wild creature rushed in to protect her from another?

Perhaps the wolf wasn’t wild, after all. Although keeping a wolf was illegal, not everyone in Polecat followed the rules. This animal had instinctively tried to save her from the bear, and she needed to make sure it would be okay.

Her cell phone chimed. Probably Otis, worried sick. Keeping her attention on the wolf, she pulled the phone out, turned it off, and returned it to her pocket. Then she spoke to the wolf as she might to a faithful dog. “You’re hurt.” She stretched out her hand. “Come. Let me help.”

The wolf swung its broad head in her direction and stared at her with green eyes that looked disturbingly familiar. Those eyes were filled with pain, but there was intelligence lurking there, too. The wolf seemed to be considering whether to come closer. Seconds passed. Then it turned and walked away on unsteady legs.

“Wait! Don’t leave! Please!” Hurrying after the wolf, she managed to get in front of it. The poor thing couldn’t move very fast, and it paused, panting from the effort of walking. It had no collar, of course. Anyone who was daring enough to keep a wolf around wouldn’t want to be identified as the owner.

She couldn’t even be sure the wolf belonged to someone. It might have been domesticated and then abandoned. Whatever its story, her life had been spared because this animal had come to her rescue. She wasn’t about to let it wander off into the forest, where anything might happen.

Those wounds could get infected. The brave creature could die in agony after throwing itself into harm’s way for her sake. “You’re coming with me.” Reaching out, she grabbed hold of the wolf’s ruff. “You need help, and I can provide it.”