Wolf Tracker (23 page)

Sherry either didn’t hear it or didn’t care. “Father, let me get you some breakfast. And after you eat I wonder if you would hear my confession?”

The priest hesitated. “I had hoped to leave immediately after eating. You are Catholic?”

“Yes, Father. It has been six months since my last confession.”

Wow, the last time Tami had gone to confession she’d been in high school.

“Well, then, of course I’ll hear your confession. When we’ve finished breakfast you can come to my room.”

Stag’s precarious control broke. He leapt to his feet. “No!” He fixed a glare on Sherry. “You will not be alone with him!”

Sherry shrank back so violently the cane supporting her weight slipped and she fell to the floor with a muffled scream. Stag leaped toward her but she scrambled away from him, crying. He stopped with the agonized expression of a man who’d just been knifed. Tami abandoned her breakfast to go to Sherry. Carla and Connie got there at the same time. Taye went to the priest and moved him toward the counter, saying something about him needing to eat while the food was warm.

Sherry wasn’t hurt. Connie was able to determine Sherry hadn’t broken or re-broken anything. She might have some bruises from the fall, but mostly she was just scared. Carla and Tami got her to a sitting position and the first thing Sherry did was look for Stag. The wolf was standing half turned from her, shoulders hunched, hands clenched into fists at his sides. Des was there, an arm slung over Stag’s rigid shoulders, talking quietly to him.

Carla patted Sherry’s shoulder with impatient sympathy. “Look, I know you’ve been through a lot. We all have. But you’re being pretty mean to Stag, don’t you think?”

Sherry scraped the heel of her hand over her eyes, scrubbing the tears away. “You don’t understand.” She opened her mouth several times but couldn’t seem to get any words out. “My husband has been dead only a few months. I loved him. We’d had some problems in our marriage, but we saw a counselor. We were back on track and were on our way to celebrate our anniversary in Vegas when the plane crashed! I can’t just switch my feelings on and off. And…” She sniffed loudly. “I need to confess.”

The Grandmother leaned over to hand Sherry a handkerchief. She accepted it and blew her nose. Tami’s throat flooded with sympathy for Sherry. She had never mentioned a husband before. What would it have been like if Brad had died on their anniversary? That would have been bad enough, but Sherry had been badly hurt, too, and then found herself in a different world, cut off from everything and everyone she’d known.

“You’re right,” Tami said firmly to Sherry. “We can’t understand exactly what you’ve been through. Maybe you should talk to Jodi and Dixie. They were able to help me a lot.”

“That’s a good idea,” Connie endorsed. “It seems to me Stag has been pretty patient. I’ve noticed you’ve barely said a word to him. Maybe you should talk to him. Tell him straight out what you want.” She cast a glance at Stag, who was standing with Des and Tracker, listening intently to every word.

Sherry buried her face in the handkerchief and spoke so quietly Tami could barely hear her. “That’s one of the reasons why I need to go to confession. LeRoi was dead only three weeks when I started to have …
feelings
about Stag.” She blew her nose again and clarified, “Sinful feelings. And he’s an animal!”

“Uh-huh.” Connie scratched her nose and exchanged a look with Carla. “Well, I don’t see why that’s a problem, but that’s between you two. I’ve never seen him do anything to hurt you. It looks to me like he’s taken pretty good care of you. You should talk about it.” Connie shifted her weight, probably to relieve her ankle. “Do you really want to stay sitting on the floor?”

Sherry climbed to her feet with their help and got her cane situated. She swallowed, and it seemed to Tami that she steeled herself to look at Stag. “You don’t have the right to keep me from the comfort of my faith,” she quavered. “I’ll talk to the priest anywhere I want to.” She swiped the handkerchief under her nose, eyes wavering briefly before returning to Stag. “And I’ll talk to you. Later. I can’t do it right now. But I will, in a few weeks, after I talk to the priest, and Jodi and Dixie.”

Stag’s shoulders loosened a little. “That sounds good.” He visibly kept himself from stepping toward her. “Sherry. I would never hurt you. Never.”

The Grandmother spoke in a commanding voice. “Tell the priest to come to my room when he’s done with breakfast. You can talk to him there, Sherry. I don’t hear as well as I used to, so you can still be private.” She turned around and hobbled toward the door, gesturing for Sherry to come with her. The two of them, both with canes, made their slow way out of the dining hall.

Tami went back to her breakfast, casting quick glances at Stag. The wolf took his seat quietly, face blank. Tracker ate the last piece of ham on his plate and stretched.

“Reckon I’ll talk to the priest and see when he wants to leave.”

Tami swallowed too fast and choked for a second. “
You’re
taking him back?” she asked in dismay. And then wondered why she was disappointed.

“I brought him,” Tracker said. His callused finger brushed over her cheek in a whisper of a caress. “It’s only fair I return him. I’ll hurry back, though.”

Stag waved a hand. “I’ll take him. You should stay here with your wife.” His voice changed and Tami wasn’t sure if it was bitterness or hope that shadowed his next words. “No use me being around for the next couple weeks anyway. My mate isn’t ready to talk to me yet.”

Tami flinched in sympathy. “I think Jodi and Dixie will be able to help Sherry.”

“Will they be able to convince her to accept me?”

Definitely bitterness that time. “I don’t know about that. I don’t think they try to make anyone do anything. They just help people learn to think straight.” Tami hesitated. She’d never been one to give advice, but Stag was really hurting. “Think about how she must feel. She was in love with a man who died—horribly!—only a few months ago. Both her legs were broken, which had to hurt like hell, and it’s not like there’s any strong painkillers to help with that. So cut her some slack. Give her some time.”

Des came up and slugged Stag in the arm in a wolf’s version of a sympathetic hug. “We’ll look after her for you while you’re gone.”

“Thanks. I better talk to the priest before he finishes eating.”

Des narrowed his eyes. “Don’t hurt him.”

Stag snorted and left. Des looked at Tracker. “We’re headed back to the Plane Women’s House after lunch. With four women to guard we need a big escort. You wanna come? We could use you. You can be back by supper.”

Tracker’s lips curved ever so slightly. “If I can be back before dark, sure. Me ‘n’ Tami are going to try standing…” At her sudden glare he changed what he was going to say. “I’ll be ready.”

Des moved off in a hurry, so Tami gave Tracker her best imitation of a languorous sex kitten smile. “So will I.”

A barely noticeable flush rose to Tracker’s lean cheeks. “Uh-huh. Better make sure there’s plenty of wood for the stove. Don’t want you gettin’ cold while we’re tryin’ out new love positions, wife.”

Tami blushed but laughed. “Maybe I should make a schedule for us to follow?”

“Awright. Two positions a night.” Tracker paused to consider. “Naw, only one.”

“Only one?” she teased. “Are you sure? We practiced two last night. We have that whole list to get through.”

“One on the list. The other times I reckon we can be spontaneous.”

She liked the sound of that. Tami leaned one hand on the table and fanned herself with the other. “Whew! Alrighty, then.”

Then she noticed a dozen men looking at her with eager fascination. “Omigod!” she bleated, horrified they had been overheard.

Taye came closer, looking very interested. “There’s a list?” he asked.

Tami cast a wild look at Tracker. Her new husband was laughing silently. Was that the third time she’d ever seen him laugh or only the second? He really was a handsome man.

Taye waved a hand in front of her face to catch her attention. “The list, cousin?”

“There isn’t one!” she barked, and hurried blindly out of the dining hall.

“Don’t forget to fetch in more wood,” Tracker reminded her.

As she hurried down the hall she heard his rare laugh again and her heart glowed with warmth. He made her happy. She’d told herself she had married him to thwart Dickinson, but it was time to stop lying. Tracker made her feel safe. He made her feel special. She was looking forward to spending time with him. Not just in bed—or against a wall, or whichever position he wanted to try—but just being with him and watching for his small, quiet smile. Was this love?

She tried to remember what falling in love with Brad had been like, but that was so long ago she couldn’t remember an exact moment. Maybe in English class of their freshman year of high school? Or their first kiss the following summer? She couldn’t think of a time when they hadn’t been a couple. And their drifting apart had been so gradual she couldn’t decide exactly when it had started.

She missed Brad. But it was a misty, distant sort of thing, as if he was someone she’d known years ago. He was almost certainly dead. Maybe it was wrong of her to not care. But there was nothing she could do about it, and she was starting a new life now.

Chapter Twenty-Four

In her room, Tami made the rumpled, well-used bed before pulling her heavy winter coat out of the closet and swinging it on. It wasn’t the same one Tracker had given her after he’d killed those men when he’d found her. That coat, with its bloodstained lamb’s wool collar, had been given to one of Taye’s men to be traded. Her new coat was wool-lined leather with fox fur around the collar and hem. She liked that it was split up the back so she could ride. She wasn’t going to ride now. Taye had laid down the law about anyone leaving the compound without permission. She was fine with that. The last thing she wanted was to run into Dick Dickinson or any of his cowboys. She would go out to the stable and spend a little time with Freedom, as she usually did since coming back to the den.

As she cut through the kitchen to grab an apple before going out back she told one of the Pack cleaning up after breakfast where she was going. That was another of Taye’s rules. Even just going the fifty yards from the den to the stable required a notification. At least it was still inside the fence, so she didn’t have to have a guard. If she hadn’t been so embarrassed by Taye’s question about the “list” she would have mentioned it at breakfast, maybe invited Tracker to join her.

It was cold outside, the fresh snow a glittering blanket on the ground, but the sky was blue and there was no wind. It was about as nice a day as could be expected in late December. Tami looked out at the fence, wondering where Dick was and if he had heard yet about her marriage. The Grandmother said gossip got around quickly, even in the winter when people didn’t travel much. Hopefully, Dick would give up. She saw a wolf she thought was Snake trotting briskly along the fence on guard duty. Other wolves and men would be walking their own patrols, alert for trouble. It was too nice a day for trouble. Dick was probably safe at home, celebrating the holiday in his fancy house.

The stable was dim after the brilliant sunshine outside. Tami waited a minute for her eyes to adjust before going to Freedom’s stall. Her horse was glad to see her. Or at least was happy to see the apple she brought him. It was a little mealy, having been in storage for probably two or three months, but Freedom delicately munched it down while she petted him and told him how handsome he was. Freedom had probably never been so well groomed in his life. Since returning from town, Tami spent hours a day out here, currying him and combing his mane and tail. He was a good listener. Did Tim miss him? Was Tim even still alive? Tracker had said her husbands were dead. No, he had implied it. She could ask him about it.

The door at the other end of the stable opened. Sunlight sliced through the dimness of the far end of the building, then cut off as the door was closed. Even in the gloom Tami could see the pale braids as Tracker came on silent feet to Freedom’s stall. Tami smiled. Tracker looked just the way he had when he had been chasing her, long angular body dressed in leather, long white blond hair neatly braided, weather-darkened face expressionless. But that hard, still face warmed with the small smile she thought of as her smile.

“Hey,” she greeted him.

He stood, a shadow amidst shadows. “Hey.”

Tami pulled the comb through Freedom’s mane. “You reminded me just now of what I thought of you while you were chasing me.”

He walked up to the stall’s half door and leaned there. One colorless brow lifted in wordless inquiry.

“I thought you were scary. I didn’t know what you wanted. And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake you.”

He tilted his head so one braid swung over his shoulder. “I thought you were mighty clever. Not many could keep ahead of me, but you did. Hell, you flat out stole my supper one night.”

Tami laughed a little, remembering her hunger and how wonderful that stringy half-cooked bird had been. “That’s what you get for leaving your supper unattended. At the time I kicked myself for not taking more.”

A strange look crossed his face, like he wasn’t used to having expressions and his face didn’t quite know how to form it. “Tami, even then, before I knew you, I was worried for you. I reckon I didn’t like it that you were hungry.”

“You mean you let me take that damn bird on purpose?” she huffed.

“Naw. You got it fair and square.”

Tami pulled the comb through Freedom’s mane. “You said they were dead. Leach and—” She swallowed. “Steve. Did you kill them?”

“I killed Dwight and Steve. Leach killed himself.”

His voice was utterly toneless. A shiver coasted down Tami’s spine. “Good,” she told Freedom’s mane quietly. “Tim?”

“I let him ride away.”

“Good,” Tami said again. Should she feel happy three men were dead? Maybe not, but she did. Or maybe it was more relief than happiness. Back in 2014, they would have been arrested and there would have been a trial and maybe appeals that would have dragged on for months, if not years. She might have had to hide from reporters, and everyone would know about it. Here in 2064, it was done.