Chapter 4
THE OLDER man sprawled in the rustic wooden chair on the front porch. Sean sat on the top step, his eyes catching every movement out on the street—from the flick of a window curtain in a house down the way to the flutter of a leaf on the massive trees lining the sidewalk.
“So you’ll not be stayin’?”
“I needed a safe place for Annie to have the baby, Mr. Cadogan. Trouble follows us and I won’t be bringing it here.”
“Where’s your pack, boy?”
Sean glanced over his shoulder, caught the flicker of something feral in the back of the man’s eyes. He might look like a friendly, small-town grocer to any human who happened to stumble across this tiny West Virginia hamlet, but Sean knew better. This was Josiah Cadogan, Alpha of the Blaidd Pack. The man didn’t take shit from anyone and more than one unwary person had simply disappeared into the unforgiving landscape of the Cumberland Mountains when they tried to stir it up.
He owed the man honesty. “Scattered.”
“That trouble you’re afraid to bring here?” Josiah tsked . “Never figured you for a coward to run, boy.”
“Not running, sir. Regrouping.”
For an hour, Sean explained the situation. For an hour, Josiah listened. An outsider would believe Sean’s tale had no effect on the grocer. But they would have missed the red flicker in the back of his eyes, or the slight flexing of his fingers on the arms of the chair. Unless they’d been watching him very closely. When Sean finished speaking of Black Root and the horrors John Smith and his minions had perpetrated on Wolves, Josiah sat unmoving, but for his eyes. They watched the street with the same intensity as Sean’s.
“I’ll put the word out.”
“Appreciate it, sir. My Alpha and his family will be here soon.”
“And the rest of your pack?”
“Eventually. We’re making arrangements. We won’t stay.”
“I know of your Alpha, boy. He’s an honorable man.”
Sean breathed deeply, the tension in his chest easing. Outside Wolves made uneasy bedfellows in a pack’s territory. An interloping Alpha was nigh on to a declaration of war. “Thank you, sir.”
“Josiah, son. I think you’ve earned the right.”
“Yessir.”
The front door creaked and Mrs. Cadogan leaned out. “She’s wakin’ up, Sean. Best get ready to go back in t’help that li’l gal. She’s a strong ’un,”
“Yes, ma’am, she is.”
“And that li’l boy of hers is just the best thing. He surely does like my apple fritters. Just a shame none of her own can be here.”
“Now, Flossie. Don’t go fussin’ at the boy. There’s reasons. Good ones. And his Alpha’s mate’ll be here soon. That’ll help.”
Sean slipped past the woman, his nose filled with the homey aromas of apples, yeasty dough, cinnamon, and butter. He had to swallow the chuckle thinking about Hannah being a comfort to a woman in labor.
FOUR HOURS later, Annie dozed in his arms and Sean was ready for a stiff drink of something—anything—with a high alcohol content. His last nerve had run screaming into the night like the blond teenage girl in a slasher movie. How the hell did women do this shit?
Childbirth was hard enough, but a Wolf’s mate had to do it sans drugs. The unborn baby was so fragile that any sort of painkiller, including plain old aspirin, could depress the child’s lungs and heart rate, and lessen the baby’s chances of surviving the birth.
Annie had been in labor for almost ten hours and she still hadn’t dilated enough. They’d tried hot packs. Cold packs. Walking. Bending. Hell, Sean would get up and dance the Hokey Pokey if that would do the trick. Annie stiffened and moaned, but her eyes didn’t open. She was exhausted and Sean was terrified. Terrified right down to the very depths of his soul. He couldn’t lose her. He loved her too much.
His nostrils flared and recognized the scents coming from the living room even as his brain processed the voices. Mac. And Hannah. Thank God. The bedroom door opened a sliver and he caught sight of silver-blonde hair and amused blue eyes. At his nod, the door opened all the way and Hannah slipped in.
She bent close to his ear and whispered, “I’ll sit with her. You need to go talk to Mac.”
With great care, he disentangled from Annie and got off the bed. Hannah dropped into the spot where he’d been lying. Annie stirred again and muttered something in her sleep.
“Shhh, Annie. It’s me.” Hannah brushed Annie’s tangled hair back from her face with one hand while shooing Sean out with the other.
He found Mac, Mr. Cadogan, Flossie, and Granny Mae in the kitchen. Flossie set down a bowl of stew that was mostly meat, along with a pan of hot cornbread in front of an empty chair.
“Sit yourself down, boy,” Granny instructed. “You need t’eat t’keep yore strength up.”
Moments later, Mac had a bowl in front of him, along with helpings for the older Alpha, Granny, and one for Flossie herself.
“Cody?”
“He’s off with Silas playin’ those silly video games. Gonna have a sleepover, Silas, Cody’n Liam,” Flossie replied. When Sean looked concerned, she added. “Silas is our grandson, Sean. He’ll take right good care of that little boy.” She smiled at Mac. “An’ that son o’yours will fit right in.”
The group ate in silence until spoons scraped the bottom of pottery bowls. Granny headed to the bedroom with a tray for Hannah while Flossie chased the men out of the kitchen with a flick of her apron. She pressed a plate of apple fritters into Mac’s hands as he walked by. “There’s milk and I’m brewin’ a fresh pot o’coffee. Be ready in a mite.”
While Josiah might have been leery of another Alpha in his territory, Mac had been there, done that, and let Hannah sleep in the T-shirt. He remained loose, respectful, and kept his distance. He had no intention of pushing the older man, not when the safety of Annie, Cody, and the new baby was involved. But. He was damn sure curious about this little town tucked into the mountains, about the Alpha who ran it, and how everyone seemed to know all about Wolves. Not that he wasn’t glad. Having a midwife familiar with their kind was a blessing. When Hannah had Liam, Mac had relied on Tala Nakai, Jacob’s wife, to bring one from their Navajo Indian reservation. He’d been terrified the ancient woman would turn to dust and blow away right before his eyes. Turned out she was a tough old bird and warned him afterward that his mate had a mean mouth. Like that was news or something.
The memory warmed Mac from the inside out and he realized he was smiling. He hadn’t done much of that since Louisiana. And just like that, his mood shifted. He was supposed to be in command. He’d lost Danny and even worse, he’d lost Sally, Danny’s mate. It didn’t matter they’d both sacrificed themselves for the safety of the others. It only mattered that they died on his watch. It still pissed him off.
“Ah, Mac? The furniture came with the house. I’d like to get my deposit back. You know, if that’s okay with you?”
He glanced up to meet Sean’s humorous expression before he looked down. His hands were gripping the arms of the chair so tightly they’d all but cracked the wood. “Sorry, man.” He exhaled, his shoulders slumping in dejection. “Memories.”
And wasn’t that a swift kick in his ass? He suddenly had a great deal of respect for a certain Marine officer, currently AWOL and being hunted by the government and the Black Root bastards. The 69th had done a lot of shit over the years, most of it exhausting, bloody work. It was a wonder any of them could still function. But Nate Connor? Nate had lived a nightmare. And survived. That said a hellava lot about the man. He was about to start the debriefing when the door to the bedroom slammed open.
“Gawddammitalltofuckinghellandback! I need coffee!” Hannah marched into the room and glared at Sean. “Get that sorry ass of yours out of that chair and get back into the bedroom. Annie needs you.”
Another string of expletives, every bit as colorful as Hannah’s erupted from the room down the hall. Annie had been taking lessons, and Mac bit the insides of his cheeks to keep from laughing at the totally panicked look on Sean’s face. The man who calmly rigged explosives powerful enough to bring down a building, the man who stitched wounds with a hand so fine that several plastic surgeons had tried to bribe him to teach them his technique stood there quivering like a Chihuahua puppy surrounded by hungry lions. Hungry female lions. Mac had some sympathy for the other Wolf. He’d been there and while Hannah had terrified him, he would do it again, if they had another pup survive pregnancy.
Hannah shoved Sean down the hallway and glanced back at Mac. “Did I not say I needed coffee? I need fucking coffee right this gawddamned minute. Make it happen.”
“Anything you say, darlin’”
“That’s Major fucking darlin’ to you, asshole.”