Leora
When we ran into Dorie’s room, we found Hamish already there with his hand gripped around Dorie’s jaw. “Calm down, lass. Let me see!”
My stomach dropped.
There were tears streaming down my daughter’s cheeks.
But then she swiveled her wet eyes over to me and happily called out as best she could with a hand viced around her jaw, “Maem! Alban! Look!”
We both rushed forward to stand on either side of Hamish.
I gasped at what I saw, and Alban said, “Would ye get a hold of that!”
Dorie was now in possession of something she hadn’t sported since kindergarten when her baby teeth fell out.
A gleaming set of canines. Or as the Scottish wolves would have called them—her wolf fangs.
So, as it turned out, Hamish did end up going on his usual walk after all.
We all did.
Our Second Christmas celebration turned into a large breakfast with our family and friends, followed by a group hike. If Dorie truly wasn’t toothless anymore, she’d be able to will herself to turn into a wolf.
However, a house in the middle of town on what the Scots called Boxing Day wasn’t the best place to run that experiment.
So, after breakfast, we all tromped up the closest mountain.
Me with an extra set of clothes in my arms, Alban with a tranq gun just in case, and all of us with tentative hope in our hearts.
“Just get a nice picture of yer beast in yer mind,” Hamish advised her when we found a nice small grove about halfway up the mountain. “And poof, ye’ll become a wolf.”
“But try to remember your human if and when you turn,” Tara advised sagely, bringing a hand to rest on her belly. “We’ll be so happy for you, and that happiness will be diminished if Alban has to tranq you.”
As if to co-sign that thought, Iain took Milly by the elbow and scooted her, and the baby strapped to his chest a little further away from the rest of the group.
Dorie eyed the remaining adults circled around her nervously. “What if I mess it up?” I tried to turn so many times before my fangs finally grew back. I don’t want to fail again. Or hurt anyone.”
Alban stepped forward before I could.
“You will nae fail,” he assured her as if her accomplishing something she hadn’t been able to do for nearly half her life was as inevitable as the full moon rising in the sky every month. He stepped forward to take her by the hand. “And you will nae hurt anybody. I promise you this.”
Dorie nodded at Alban, but doubt shadowed her brown gaze like a locust swarm coming for the village’s crops.
“Dorie, I believe in you.” I stepped forward and took her other hand. “We all do. You can do this.”
“Aye, Dorie!” Magnus called out. “Give it a go. You’ve got this, as my wife would say.”
“Si, you have totally got this!” Tara’s Italian mother-in-law, the former queen, agreed, waving both her fists in the air as if she were cheering at a baseball game.
“C’mon, Dorie, give it a go for yer auld Senair!” Lachlan, the former king, called out, placing his arms around both his wife’s and his brother’s shoulders. “We’re all rooting for ye, lass! But Hamish, most of all!”
Dorie looked up at me with surprise shining in her eyes. And I knew why.
My daughter had been an outcast in Saint Albert, her mother her only friend. But now shouts of encouragement from her new community filled the mountain air. And I smiled down at Dorie, letting her in on a new truth.
Even if she failed, she’d already won.
I squeezed her hand in mine.
But Dorie didn’t squeeze back.
Because she no longer had a hand to squeeze with. Her paw slipped out of mine as she transformed into a wolf the same color as her light brown hair right before my eyes.
And an hour later, we all walked back down the mountain with a sleeping wolf pup in Hamish’s arms.
Tranqing hadn’t been necessary. Dorie’s tween wolf was a lot like Dorie herself. Curious and playful. She ran around like crazy in the snowy mountain meadow, chasing squirrels and attacking pinecones until it all caught up with her. Then she’d simply curled up at Hamish’s feet for a little nap.
“I knew there was still some wolf left in her from the moment we met!” Hamish bragged to me as we walked down the mountain behind the rest of the group.
I started to happily reply, but the words stuck in my throat when I noticed what was happening toward the front of the group.
Tara was making the downward trip, using the two gnarled branches that Magnus had found for her before we began the descent as hiking sticks.
Meanwhile, the Scottish king was walking directly in front of her as a failsafe.
But Alban walked beside her, his face drawn as he made some emphatic point I could not hear. And he didn’t look happy.
When we got home, Hamish and I deposited Dorie into the upstairs bathroom with the extra set of clothes for when she woke up. But then, I immediately sought out my sister.
However, when I returned to the front room, she wasn’t there. And neither was Magnus, Lachlan, Valentina, or Iain and the baby. Just Milly standing there by her lone self.
“Something about an unexpected guest,” she explained with an apologetic shrug on their behalf. “But I stayed behind to make sure you knew how much we appreciated you hosting us.”
“No, thank you for coming out,” I said, pasting a cheery smile over my disappointment as I walked her to the front door. “I’m so happy we got to share this special day with you. I’m sure Dorie will always remember it.”
“No, I’m really grateful I got to see it,” Milly answered.
Her American accent was still prominent despite her many years living in Scotland.
“As a turned wolf, I know there’s a higher chance of our daughter not hitting her developmental milestones.
So, it’s been nice to see you and Dorie navigate the situation with hope and grace. ”
We ended up chatting for quite a while inside the doorway. Mostly about pregnancy in general and how to raise children who aren’t quite like everyone else.
“The city’s become a lot harder to live in now that my year is up, and we’re all regularly turning with the full moon.
I was thinking of asking Iain if we could move out here,” Milly confided.
“Especially after Tara told me you were going to be the new teacher. Is it true Dorie came into class way above grade level? That’s so impressive! ”
I appreciated Tara bragging about Dorie. But her already telling people I was going to take the job—not so much.
“And your baby isn’t due until the summer, so that gives Tara plenty of time to come up with a substitute for your maternity leave,” Milly said. “You really are in the perfect place to take on this new challenge.”
I was, and I wasn’t.
I’d never got a chance to talk to my sister about the teaching opportunity, or ask her what Alban had said to her on the walk back. And when I returned to the front room after saying goodbye to Millie, Alban was still nowhere to be seen.
I sensed his presence in the house and suspected he was probably behind the closed office door. But his side of the mate bond remained quietly muted. Nothing about this situation invited me to knock on his door and ask if he was ready to talk.
Beside today was Dorie’s day, and I didn’t want anything to detract from it. Plus, she’d be hungry when she woke up. I should make her a sandwich. Instead of confronting Alban’s office door, I headed toward the kitchen.
Only to stop short when I found him, Hamish, and Dorie at the kitchen table, eating sandwiches made from the leftover breakfast ham.
Dorie was dressed in the outfit I’d left out for her, and Alban sat silently munching while she and Hamish discussed whether or not he should give all of his extra Marmite away to the hungry.
“Or the pigs,” Dorie countered, reminding me too much of Tara. “I wouldn’t eat that stuff if I’d been starving for days—weeks.”
Unlike Tara and my daughter, I tried not to be rude. But I did (quietly) agree with Dorie as I headed over to the counter to make my own sandwich.
Meanwhile, Hamish grumpily informed his dear adopted granddaughter, “If you’d been starving for weeks, you’d be dead.”
“And I still wouldn’t eat Marmite!” Dorie shot back. “Even if I were dead.
That zinger had Dorie smiling even bigger than she had on Christmas morning when Alban gifted her with a bike and certificate stating that the stable’s newest pony, Prince Leopold belonged to her.
And I had to suppress a laugh before issuing a stern, “Dorie … respectful tone and language always.”
“Fine,” Dorie huffed. “Sorry, Senair.”
My motherly duty done, I turned my back on them to make myself a sandwich at the counter.
But then, Dorie said, “Alban, I was wondering if you could give me a present for Second Christmas?”
I frowned and turned back around to face the kitchen table. Dorie knew there wasn’t another gift exchange among our main family for Second Christmas. What was she up to?
As if answering my question, Dorie asked Alban, “Can I start calling you Da?”
We all stared at her, stunned. Then Hamish and I turned to look at Alban.
Who just sat there, blinking.
“Dorie, it’s only been a few weeks,” I said carefully into Alban’s silence. “We should give Alban some time to—”
The toll of a bell in the distance cut me off.
We all looked up. But Alban jumped to his feet, and his face became battle-hard when the bell rang a second time after a short interval.
“Two bells are the signal for special services, right?” Dorie asked hopefully, glancing between Alban and me. We were no longer on the mountain, but she was back to looking nervous. “Is there another church service today?”
I had a feeling that wasn’t the case in this instance, even before Hamish answered, “Not when it’s back-to-back without a long pause.”
Then the bell rang a third time, and his face became as hard as his son’s.
Fright erased all the hope in Dorie’s eyes. She was only eleven, but she realized, like me, that their reaction to the tolling of the bell was not good.
Not good at all. Dread splashed down into my stomach like water into a cow trough as the bell rang a fourth time. Then stopped.
“Want me to come with you?” Hamish asked in the following silence. He rose to his feet with a grim look to stand beside his soon.
“Nae, stay here with Leora and Dorie,” Alban answered. “They must be protected.”
The “must be protected” part filled up my chest with alarm, and even though I didn’t want to know the answer, I had to ask. “What do those bells mean?”
“That the Kingdom Defender is needed,” Alban answered, his voice colder than the snow on the mountain.
The pool of dread in my stomach electrified with terror, and Milly’s words from earlier echoed in my head. Something about an unexpected guest.
“The Irish again?” I asked Alban, coming to a stand.
“I don’t know.” His face took on a new shadow. Weary but resolute. “I must go. Now.”
He told us that, then he headed out. Without looking back.
A childish feeling of wanting to run after him and demand he stay came over me. And I had to hold back from screaming, “No! Don’t go!” as he walked toward the kitchen door. Somehow …
Somehow, I knew this wasn’t going to end well.
But I wasn’t a child. I was a grown woman with a daughter to protect. Just like Alban was a grown man with an entire town to defend.
I pulled Dorie close, and we watched him walk away together.
So, when a knock sounded on the front door less than an hour later, we were back to our defensive lockdown positions—Dorie and me on the couch, Hamish in his big chair with an old shotgun straddled across his lap.
“Let me get it!” Hamish jumped up with the gun raised.
But he lowered it as soon as he peered through the door’s peephole. “Oh, it’s your sister and my nephew again.”
“Tara! Oh, thank goodness!”
I ran to the door as Hamish opened it, not waiting near the couch like last time. Maybe Tara had some news about what was happening. Had Iain had a breakthrough on the Irish’s position? Did they send Alban off again without telling me?
I rushed forward to ask my sister all of these questions and more—only to stop short when I saw the male standing on the step behind her and Magnus.
A male I immediately recognized despite the patch over his right eye.
Joshua. It was Joshua. Not lying dead in a pool of his own blood as I’d seen him last, no …
He was very much alive.