Wolf’s Princess (3 page)

His smile was sympathetic. “My brother feels exactly like you do. He likes the warmth of June, July and August, but after that he’s done with summer and ready for fall. Um, how is Flora working out for you?”

They were almost flirting! At least, she thought this was flirting. Maybe? Well, perhaps talking about her horse wasn’t quite flirting. “Wonderful. I rode her to town today.” Duh. Rose almost slapped herself. He knew she always rode Flora to town while her guards walked. “She’s in the stable behind the Plane Women’s House. I know your dad bred her, but you trained her, didn’t you?” She fixed what she hoped was an admiring expression on her face. “Taye says you are one of the best horse trainers in the region.”

His lean suntanned cheeks darkened a little. “That means something, coming from him.”

She moved a step closer, closer than she had ever been to a man outside the Clan or Pack, and shot a warning glare at Stone before smiling again at Jasper. “I wonder if you’d like to join m—us for lunch at the Plane Women’s Eatery today around one o’clock?”

His flush darkened, then drained away as he sent an alarmed glance at Stone and Paint. “I-I—Are you sure?” he blurted.

Paint grunted. Stone folded his arms and glowered, but neither said anything. “Yes,” she said firmly. “I’d really like that.”

His grin emerged triumphant. “I would like that, too. One o’clock.”

Relief eased her shoulders. “Yes, one o’clock. We can eat, and then maybe watch the train come in?”

He nodded enthusiastically. “That sounds good.” He scooped up the nails he’d been counting. “I’ll see you then.”

Rose watched him walk to the counter with a jaunty step and hardly suppressed a skip herself. She had a date! For the second time in her life, she had a date. Her first date had been when she was in tenth grade, with Greg…Gary? She wasn’t sure about the name. Her life in the Times Before was distant from the here and now. They went to see a movie, but she couldn’t remember which one, and in the car when they were idling at a stop light he stuck his tongue down her throat. Rose shuddered at that memory. Even Sky’s attack had been less gross than that kiss.

This date would be different. For one thing, she and Jasper would be chaperoned by her escort, and by Des and his Plane Women’s House Pack. In the unlikely event of Jasper trying to stick his tongue down her throat, blood would be shed, and he would probably be short a tongue. As for entertainment, watching the weekly train arrive at the station was the height of excitement around here. Half the town would show up to watch the few passengers disembark and the freight be unloaded. They wouldn’t be alone, so Taye couldn’t complain.

Petey broke into her thoughts by poking her in the side. “Look!” he said, pointing to a rainbow of yarn hanging on hooks on the far wall. “We gots lots of yarn. Whatcha gonna make?”

As Rose moved toward the yarn she heard an unfamiliar voice murmur, “That’s her, isn’t it? The one they call the Princess of the Wolves? Nice ass.”

A low growl seeped from Stone’s throat. Eight years with a pack of wolves gave her the training needed to prevent bloodshed. She wheeled and grabbed his arm just as he lunged at the stranger. Her weight was negligible compared to a wolf’s strength, but it stopped Stone dead. The fingers that were mere inches from the stranger’s throat curled into fists. The stranger stood frozen, eyes horrified circles in his suddenly white face.

“Just ignore it,” she hissed. “Help me pick out yarn for new socks.”

Two years ago, Stone would have joined in yarn shopping with boyish enthusiasm. Now he cast one last icy glare at the stranger before folding his arms and standing like a guard dog at her side while she surveyed the wall of yarn. She tried to distract him by asking his opinion of the red compared to the blue yarn. He grunted at her choices, continuing to keep most of his attention on the stranger. From the peek Rose snuck at Paul and his companion, she could see the stranger’s face hadn’t regained its color. Moron. What kind of idiot whispered things about her when she was surrounded by her Pack escort? Did he not know they could hear a pin drop in the next room? And did he not realize that his comment on her anatomy bothered her less than his comment about her being the Princess of the Pack?

“I love how they wet themselves whenever we scare them,” Stone said with a sneer.

Irritation made her toss a skein of vivid blue yarn away.

“That one would match Sky’s eyes,” Paint remarked. “Are you going to make him a pair of socks for Christmas again?”

“No.” She had knit her supposed mate socks for Christmas for the past several years, but no more. She had waited for him for eight years, but she wasn’t waiting any longer. Jasper’s eyes were mossy green. She scanned the wall of yarn for something in that color.

Nathan Martin, Hannah’s husband and the owner of the store, approached with a respectful smile. “Good morning, Miss Turner. Do you have the shopping list for the den?”

She nodded at Paint, who handed it over. It took Nathan and his elder son Jack about twenty minutes to collect the items on the list, and she spent the time planning a sweater and a pair of socks to knit for the man she was sure she would marry. She made her yarn selections and brought them to the front counter, still smiling.

The men of her escort had the extra strength that the wolves within gave them. Standing Bear hefted two one hundred pound sacks of sugar to his shoulders with no sign of stress and three of the other men were similarly loaded. Only Stone and Paint were unburdened, alert for any trouble. Rose occupied the safe place in the middle of the group as they walked to the Plane Women’s House. Rose smirked to herself. Jasper didn’t know it yet, but he was about to become prey for a woman who learned to hunt from wolves.

Chapter 2

Des Wolfe, the alpha of the small Plane Women’s House Pack, met Rose and her escort at the door of the Eatery, his face even more grim than usual. His dark eyes fixed on Paint. “That Packard boy is here. He says he’s eating lunch with Rose.”

His tone indicated his willingness to pitch Jasper out a window. When Rose first saw the Plane Women’s House eight years ago, it was a rundown apartment building with very few windows intact. Now, eight years later, it was restored to something close to its former Art Deco glory, with windows gleaming in the red brick. Rose doubted Connie, Des’ mate, would appreciate a broken window.

Paint adjusted his eye patch and shrugged. “Taye says it’s okay.”

Des made a noise common to the wolves when communicating wordless disgust, and stepped aside for them to enter.

“Yeah,” Paint grumbled in agreement. “It okay if we keep these supplies here until we head back to the Den later this afternoon?”

When Des nodded and said the stall next to Rose’s horse was open, Paint sent a couple of the men around to the back to put the things they’d bought in storage until they left for the den. Then he and the rest of the escort walked Rose into the foyer. Jasminka Keric O’Connor, acting today as hostess for the Eatery, stepped forward to welcome them, but Des waved her back.

Even though this was a safe place guarded by two dozen men of Des’ Pack, her escort clustered around Rose as she entered the lobby. There were two men sitting in the seats Connie had arranged for those who were waiting for a table to open. She didn’t recognize them, so they must be travelers passing through the area. They stared at her as she and her personal army moved past them into the dining room. She heard one of them say something about a princess. She refrained from snarling at them.

Jasper saw her—with six scowling men around her she was hard to miss—and rose from the small table beside one of the side windows. A sunbeam fell on his hair, turning the tips from sand to gold. Seeing him waiting for her gave Rose a thrill. She’d gone only a few steps toward him when she was cut off by a wide bony chest in a crisp white shirt. Raven. Sky’s sixteen-year-old brother. Dang it. She tilted her head to look up at him.

“Hello, Raven.”

She kept moving forward, and he allowed it, but walked backward in front of her, frowning. His eyes were nearly the same blue as Sky’s under the dark, gracefully curving brows that were a family trait. The adorable fugitive dimple beside his mouth wasn’t in evidence right now, but with his full, soft mouth and high cheekbones, he looked almost exactly as Sky had the last time she saw him. “You’re going to sit and eat with a man? Do you think Sky would like that, sister?”

“It’s none of his business, Raven. I repudiated him.”

Raven drew in a breath and let out a low, pained howl before turning and rushing back toward the kitchen. An emotion she didn’t want to identify poked at Rose’s throat. She swallowed and put her shoulders back. Raven would just have to deal with it. She refused to watch him disappear into the kitchen. Instead she smiled at Jasper.

With a show of gallantry, he held the back of a chair to seat her at the table. She had eaten here hundreds of times, but most often she’d been in the back room, where the residents ate their meals. Where, she added to herself, the Pack knew she would be safely out of sight of outsiders. As she settled herself in the chair she glanced around to see where her escort had gone. They hadn’t gone far, only to line up against the wall on either side of Jasper’s table. Their crossed arms and scowling faces expressed their disapproval in loud silence. Rose inwardly sighed.
Oh, joy
.

Jasper noticed them too. After he sat back down he smiled at her, an endearing, lopsided grin that made her automatically smile back. “Being watched by wolf men is enough to put a man off his feed,” he whispered.

He probably didn’t know they could hear him no matter how low his voice was. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He lifted the hand-printed menu, a single sheet of homemade paper. “They only want to be sure you’re safe. Let’s see. Do you want a grilled ham and cheese sandwich or a hamburger? There’s tomato soup with the grilled cheese or fried potatoes with the burger.”

The menu didn’t have many options. As she was the manager of the only restaurant for miles, Connie said people should be happy with what they got. And generally, they were. Not only was the food excellent, but it was served by women. In a world where men outnumbered women two hundred to one, having a woman take the order and bring the food was a thrill for the customers. Of course, those women were watched over by men who turned into wolves, so the diners had to settle for just talking to the waitresses. Over the years a few customers had misunderstood what sort of service the waitresses provided, but that kind of mistake only happened once in a while. Whenever a customer tried to be too friendly with one of the women, Des would point out the old bloodstains on the wood floor and explain how they got there. Rose was sure he was disappointed when the customer took the hint and behaved himself.

“Oh, I think a hamburger sounds good,” she said.

Marissa Paulson Wolfe, married to one of Des’ pack, came to take their order. She kept her face professionally impersonal, but she tilted her head at Rose, and one eyebrow flew up. The comical expression disappeared after only a moment, but Rose’s blush lasted longer.

“You know everyone here, don’t you?” Jasper commented, after Marissa left. “Even the busboy.”

“Yes.” It was true. Every woman in the House was a survivor of the plane crash, and Taye’s pack and Des’ pack were like the right and left arms of the same body. She spent a lot of time here at the Plane Women’s House. These women were the only people who really knew what life had been like fifty years ago.

“And everyone knows you. Or at least about you. The Pack Princess.” Something must have shown on her face, because he quickly said, “What did I say?”

“Nothing. I just don’t like that name. I don’t know how it got started.” She fastened her attention on her napkin, lining up the folded edges just so. “I suppose, since for a long time I was the only young female in the Pack or the Clan, people started calling me that.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, nodding earnestly. “And because you’re followed by a bunch of them every time you step foot out of their compound, too. And the way they bristle if anyone looks at you too long. That’s where the nickname came from.”

Her cheeks were probably the color of the tomato soup Marissa carried past to another table. “Yeah, that probably doesn’t help. Now complete strangers call me that, and they don’t know a thing about me. Maybe it was meant as a joke, but it makes me sound like a spoiled brat.”

“Are you?” he asked.

She blinked at the bold question, half-offended until she saw his teasing smile. “Well, I’ll admit to being spoiled. Hard not to be, with a hundred men trying hard to give me whatever I want, but I absolutely deny the brat part.”

Their food came, deftly and gracefully served by Marissa, who told them cheerily to have a nice lunch and let her know if they needed anything else. Rose noticed how the other diners watched Marissa move. The other woman had the plump, voluptuous figure men in this time preferred. Back in her old life, Rose might have been thought a bit overweight, but here she was considered too thin.

“I don’t know why,” she remarked, drenching a thick cut French fry in ketchup, “but everything tastes better here. Even a plain old hamburger is extra good.”

Jasper nodded. “No one has better food than the Eatery. I hear the Saturday Suppers are to die for.”

Renee, the Eatery’s cook, had once been the executive chef in one of Denver’s finest restaurants, so even the simplest food was superb. The weekday suppers were more formal than the bare table lunches, but on Saturdays Renee served unique, elegant meals that drew people from all over. The tables then boasted fine tablecloths with floral arrangements and silverware that gleamed in the candlelight. To dine at the Plane Women’s Eatery on a Saturday night was the highlight of the year for many. Renee trained several of the crash survivors to be sous chefs, pastry chefs, prep cooks, and goodness knew what else, and several restaurants in Omaha and Denver had tried to lure her away. Renee would never leave Kearney without her mate, Hawk in Flight, and he would never leave the Pack, so the Eatery retained its fine chef.