Joining Their Pack [Wolf Packs of Fate 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 6

  Heather almost fell over the top of the baby carriage.

  “Hey, watch where you’re going.” The young mother jerked the stroller out of the way.

  “I’m sorry.” Heather stumbled, trying to keep from losing her balance. She straightened up, her gaze settling on the tiny bundle wrapped in blue. The baby gurgled his happiness and flailed his arms.

  A roar sounded in her ears, and the world began to spin. All at once, tears sprang to her eyes.

  Pain, long-lasting and never forgotten, stabbed her, taking away her breath. Her pulse thudded in her ears, and sweat broke out along her brow.

  Is he alive? Is he happy? I wonder where he is right now.

  Smothering a cry, she spun around, the awful answer hitting her with another stab of heartbreaking pain.

  I’ll never know.

  * * * *

  As far as Heather was concerned, one of the good things about being an artist was the ability to put her whole being into her work. All other thoughts and emotions were lost in the creative wash of ideas. Muscle memory gave her hands the ability to paint broad then thin strokes, bringing her creation to life. In her work, she could forget the pain that had continued to haunt her after seeing the baby in the carriage. In her work, she found refuge.

  And so she worked, immersed in the artistic process, ignoring the calls of her friends and not answering her front door. For days after seeing the baby, she cocooned herself in her small apartment and gave herself to her muse.

  The result was not only escape from the pain but also two pieces of work she really liked and had already been snapped up by a former customer. She’d even had time to create a digital picture that had sold within an hour of posting it online.

  Heather hummed as she strolled around Gobbel Market, nicknamed Gobble Market by everyone except its owner Henry Gobbel. The nickname, derived from Henry’s last name, came about because of Henry’s laugh. Once she’d heard him laugh, she’d known. His laugh sounded like the gobble of a turkey.

  The market was the only market in Fate and didn’t offer a large variety of food, but she liked its locally produced fruits and vegetables as well as the friendly staff. Even now, after she’d already loaded her basket with almost everything she needed, she still wandered about slowly, simply enjoying the first time out of her apartment in days.

  Finding the pasta had been easy enough. Finding the pasta sauce was a different matter.

  Why don’t they put the sauce on the same aisle as the pasta?

  She’d gone down the aisle where the pasta was twice and was now working her way through each aisle. At last, she caught sight of what looked like jars filled with red marinara sauce. She hurried down the aisle and loaded one of the jars into her basket.

  As often happened in stores, the aisle was made up of different products. Once the section containing the pasta sauces ended, the next item’s section began. She stared at the items, and the joy of earlier was washed away. In an instant, she wanted to be back in her apartment, safe from the memories that plagued her. Baby diapers, baby bottles, baby formula stretched out before her like a gauntlet she’d have to run to make it to the front of the store.

  You’re being ridiculous. You can’t hide from everything to do with babies for the rest of your life. Keep it together and keep shopping.

  Yet, instead of moving on down the aisle, she found she couldn’t move.

  Why now? Why am I thinking about him so much now?

  As though she couldn’t control herself, she reached out and skimmed her fingers over a cute little bib. Puppies danced across the yellow background and ended up in a playful pile. She took the bib and stared at it even longer, fighting the urge to place it in the basket.

  No one would know that I had it. Besides, if someone sees it, I can always say I bought it as a gift for a friend.

  She closed her eyes, doing her best to shut out the emotions threatening to overwhelm her. What would’ve happened if she’d done what she’d wanted and not what her mother had forced her to do?

  The bib was soft under her palm. She smiled, imagining it stained from apple juice and baby food. She had to have it and placed it into her basket. One bib could be a present for a friend. Perhaps Pearl? She could keep another one to look at every once in a while. She knew she shouldn’t, that it was going against her need to forget, but the hunger inside her wouldn’t let her resist it. Tentatively, she reached out.

  “Hey, Heather.”

  Her hand clenched the second bib. Slowly, she turned to face Garner. Brogan and Sterling were coming down the aisle, broad smiles filling their faces.

  “Are you all right?”

  She blinked and shoved both bibs under a carton of pasta. “Sure. I’m fine.”

  They formed a semi-circle around her, blocking her in and keeping her from running. Yet part of her wanted nothing more than to stay. Just not in this aisle. Just not right now.

  She’d tried her best not to think about what they’d done behind The Wolf’s Den, and thanks to her work, she’d managed to keep those thoughts, as well as the ones about babies, at bay. But keeping memories of the men out of her dreams was an entirely different matter. They came to her then, their naked bodies prime examples of what men should look like, and surrounded her, much like they were doing right then.

  “Are those baby bibs?” asked Sterling.

  If she wasn’t so rattled by getting caught in the baby aisle with the bibs in her basket, she would’ve thought the timid way Sterling had asked, especially with an “oh hell” look on his face would’ve been cute. As it was, she felt trapped. The last thing she ever wanted was to have them discover her secret.

  “Oh, yeah. I’m, um, buying them for a friend.”

  Brogan looked at the bib then at her, his eyes narrowing. “A friend, huh?”

  “Yeah. A friend.”

  “Both of them?”

  “A baby needs more than one bib.” Yet she couldn’t meet his gaze. Instead, she leaned so far back that she bumped into a row of formula. Two cans fell to the floor behind her. She knelt to get them. So did the men.

  Kneeling as they did brought their strong, oh-so-handsome faces closer. She drew in a breath even as Sterling did and caught the wonderful scent of sweat, testosterone, and another aroma she couldn’t place. The way they smelled made her think of being deep inside a forest with all its rich fragrances. A comforting, yet wild, sensation swamped her. It was though they were dangerous, yet she knew instinctively that they’d never hurt her.

  Garner snatched up one can, and Brogan got the other one. Sterling attempted to take her basket. “Here. Let me carry that for you.”

  She couldn’t help but yank the basket back. “No! I mean, no thanks. I’ve got it.”

  She’d really done it now. All three of them were staring. It was obvious that they knew something was up, but they couldn’t quite figure it out. And how could they? They didn’t know what had happened so many years earlier. Yet, there she was, standing in the baby aisle with two bibs in her basket.

  If they knew, what would they say? Would they think less of her? So many people would. But what if they’re different? Damn, how she wanted to believe they were.

  Again, her courage failed her. Instead, she straightened up and adopted a soft smile. “It’s really nice to see you.”

  Brogan tipped his head to the side. “Yeah, it is.” He glanced down the aisle both ways. “Listen, Heather, about the other night at the bar.”

  Oh shit. Is this the part where he tells me it was just fun? That they don’t want me to get the wrong idea? That I shouldn’t think it meant anything more than a one-night thing?

  She’d been on the receiving end of that conversation far too often. This time would be different. “Yeah, it was a lot of fun.” She laughed, hoping the sound wouldn’t seem too forced. “But it was just one of those things, right? A fun night. I wouldn’t want you to think I’m the type of girl who has a little fun and then gets all serious. It was just fun.”


  Why was she saying the word “fun” so much?

  “Is that how you really feel?”

  Garner’s frown dug at her. She didn’t want to bruise their egos or anything, but the alternative, standing there while they gently let her down, would be so much worse.

  “Sure.” She gave them all a searching look. “I mean you didn’t think—” She laughed it off. “Of course you didn’t.”

  “Wait a sec, baby, that’s not what we’re saying at all,” added a confused Brogan.

  Then what were they saying? If she gave them a chance, would they tell her it meant more? But she couldn’t take that risk.

  Her gaze skimmed over the baby products. Risks weren’t worth it. Not when the results could be so devastating.

  “I’m sorry, guys, but I really need to go.” At first, she wasn’t sure they’d let her get past them. When Brogan finally stepped back, she eased her way between him and Sterling.

  “How about we get together later?” asked Sterling. His hand brushed along hers as though he was about to grab her and stop her from leaving.

  She sidestepped him and put her basket between them. “Maybe. I’ll catch you later, okay? I’ve got to run.” Whirling around, she did her best not to break into a mad dash to her car.

  Once she was sure they couldn’t see her any longer, she set her basket on the checkout counter. She glanced back, making certain the men weren’t following her.

  “Hi, Heather.” Shirley, Henry’s wife, started to pull the items out of the basket.

  She’d just reached for the bibs when Heather snatched them away. “How’d those get in there?” The men were coming around the end of aisle. Her heart picked up more speed. “I’m sorry, but I’ve changed my mind. I’ll be back later, okay?”

  “What? So you don’t want any of these things?”

  She didn’t answer. Instead, she was already halfway to the door.

  Chapter Five

  “Is it just me, or does she change her mind about us a lot?”

  Garner waved his hat, getting the cows to make room so he could get back into the pickup. Feeding time always found the herd lumbering after the pickup. He’d gotten off his mount while Brogan was tossing out bales of hay out of the back of the pickup and had walked among the cattle, checking for any problems. Thankfully, he didn’t find any health issues. Sterling was behind the wheel and taking it easy, but that was okay. He’d have enough work once they got back to the barn.

  “Nope. It’s not just you.” Brogan groaned as he tossed two bales at once. The work went faster when using their shifter strength, but it was still a grind. “After that night behind the bar, I would’ve thought we’d have easy sailing by now.”

  “She’s got something keeping her from letting go,” adding Sterling. “She wants to, but then she gets frightened or something and backs off.”

  It figured Sterling would be the one to note the obvious. “Yeah. From what I hear, her friends have their own kind of baggage.”

  “Where’d you hear that?” asked Brogan. He threw the last bale out. The herd turned toward the hay, mooing and shuffling against each other. “Although it’s not like we haven’t heard the same thing about others. People, especially single women, don’t usually move to a small town without a damn good reason.”

  “Harrin Hardwick mentioned that Raven wasn’t the most open person, either.” Garner pulled his hat lower, keeping the setting sun out of his eyes.

  “Like how?” Brogan jumped out of the back of the pickup and yanked the passenger door open.

  “Come on, guys. You two sound like those women at Stacy’s place. Two gossips with their heads stuck together.”

  Garner hated to admit it, but Sterling was dead-on. “I guess you’re right, but we need to talk about her.” He mounted his horse and pulled her alongside the truck. “After the other night, do either of you have any doubt that Heather is the woman for us?”

  “Nope.” Brogan tossed his hat on the dashboard. “If nothing else, we sure as hell know she’s attracted to us.”

  “Yeah. I don’t think she’s the type who’d fool around with just any guys. And definitely not out in the open.” Sterling strummed his fingers along the steering wheel. “Or anywhere else, for that matter.”

  “Then what do you think it is?” Garner gazed around at the herd now contentedly feeding. Too bad women weren’t as easy to understand as cows.

  “Could be anything. Still…”

  “Still what, man?” Garner eased back in his saddle. Usually, it didn’t take Sterling long to speak his mind.

  “Do you think it could have something to do with babies?”

  “Babies? Where’d you get that idea?” Yet he remembered Heather’s expression when they’d come up on her in the market. She’d glanced more than once at the baby items in an almost guilty way.

  “Maybe her biological clock is ticking.”

  Brogan shrugged. “It’s as good as any guess. She did seem really nervous about those bibs.”

  “Or maybe we made her nervous by showing up all of a sudden.” Yet he really didn’t think that was the reason.

  Brogan didn’t, either. “Nah, it was more than that.”

  “Then I’m right. Tick-tock, tick-tock, guys.”

  “I don’t think so, Sterling. If that’s all it is, why would she be backing away from three men showing interest in her? Seems to me that if a woman’s wanting a baby, she’s going to go after a man, not shove him away.”

  “She didn’t shove us away the other night,” joked Sterling.

  “That could’ve been a result of one-too-many drinks and nothing to do with becoming a mother.” He hated to think that way, but it was a possibility.

  “You’re wrong.” Brogan leaned his arm against the open window. “I think there’s more to it. She acted guilty to me. Like she’d done wrong and didn’t want us to know.”

  So Brogan was thinking the same way? It didn’t make him feel any better. “Like what?”

  “Maybe she had an abortion,” offered Sterling. His smile faded fast. “Maybe she regrets it.”

  “Could be.” Still, he didn’t like the idea of Heather going through an abortion. She would’ve had to believe it was the only right course of action. Even the idea of another man touching her was bad enough. But getting her pregnant? His stomach clenched, not only because of the loss of the child but because of what she would’ve gone through.

  Like his brothers, he wouldn’t take sides in the issue of women’s rights. As far as most male shifters were concerned, the men made the rules. Yet he often wondered if that was only in their minds. Female alphas were strong women, and he’d never met one yet who wouldn’t speak her mind. Plus, their pack believed a female had the right to do as she pleased. That she made the final decision in regards to her body. They were happy to not get involved.

  Women who mated with werewolves had to be strong, not only in body but in spirit and individual will. Although they often bent to their mates’ wishes, when push came to shove, they could be as stubborn as a mule on a hot day. Still, it would almost kill him if the woman he loved decided not to carry his child. Werewolves were very traditional that way. In fact, he’d never heard of a mate terminating a pregnancy. Maybe it was an instinctual thing with werewolves and their mates. Or maybe it had to do with joining together as mates for a lifetime. Rarely did a werewolf ever desert his mate, much less a pregnant mate. He’d have to be a low-down, dirty coward, less of a shifter and a man to do that.

  “This is bullshit.” Brogan punched Sterling on the arm. “Whatever she’s got going doesn’t change things as far as I’m concerned. Wanting a baby would be a good thing as long as we get her to understand that it’s our baby she should have.”

  Garner scowled, acknowledging what Brogan had said. All he wanted was their mate. Once she accepted them as her lovers and then as her mates, they’d form their own little pack like all other mated werewolves did. She was already a part of Fate, but as their mate, she’d become a
part of the Shadow Ridge Pack. He squirmed in his saddle, ready to go to her and make her theirs. “So what’s the next step? Are we going to give her more time, or are we going to stake our claim?”

  “Look at you. Mr. Take-Your-Time is turning into Mr. Gotta-Have-Her-Right-Now. Damn, man, you’re sounding more like a werewolf every day.” Sterling laughed then added, “Hell, I’m all for telling her that we want her.”

  Garner paused, realizing that he really was thinking like a werewolf. Now that the woman they wanted to share had come along, if she wanted to become a shifter, wouldn’t he want to change, too? The idea was appealing, very appealing.

  “It’ll mean showing her what we are.”

  Brogan was right. Should they risk revealing what they were to her soon? Or give her more time? “She lives in Fate now. I’m surprised she hasn’t already figured out that things are a different around here.”

  “Who knows? She might already know. Have the Hardwicks told Raven yet?” asked Sterling.

  “Don’t know and I’m not going to ask. It’s none of our business.” Garner didn’t like mixing into anyone else’s affairs, especially when it concerned their future mate. Things could get very sticky since werewolves tended to be private.

  “I was just asking is all.”

  “I say we tell her that we want her first.” Garner eased back on the reins, keeping his antsy horse from moving away. “Let’s find out how she feels about us before we go telling her about werewolves. If she’s not interested, then we don’t risk exposing shifters and the rest of the town.”

  “She’s interested.” Sterling grinned. “A woman doesn’t get that hot if she’s not.”

  “I agree,” said Brogan. “At least about seeing how she feels first. If she wants us as much as we want her, then we figure out where to go from there.”

  “We know where to go from there.” Sterling scoffed. “We fuck her then claim her. Simple.”

  “Just hold your horses.” Garner didn’t want them going too fast. “We do the first, and then we might need to take the time to court her. Let her get to know us better.”