Chapter Ten
Chapter Ten
The ride to the den didn’t seem long at all. Gen reflected that eight miles went quickly when you were surrounded by a bunch of hard-faced fighting men.
Her first view of the den confused her. It looked like a sprawling, one-story roadside motel. There was a fence around it and more hard-faced fighting men walked a military patrol around it. Clearly the guy in charge here took security seriously. That relieved her. Even if Mike Lundgren came here, he wouldn’t get close to her.
The man who opened the gate was young and stared at her with open curiosity. Another guy, wearing sweatpants and a short-sleeved T-shirt, walked out. He was maybe thirty or so, with short black hair that fell into his eyes.
“Come in,” he urged. He locked gazes with Jay. “Everything go okay?”
“Yeah, Chief. Bullet’s still in Lobo, so Stag needs a place to do surgery.” He nodded at Gen. “This is Miss Gen, Lobo’s mate.”
The man Jay called chief held out a hand to Gen. Gen slid out of the saddle and shook it automatically.
“I’m glad to meet you. I’m Taye Wolfe. Chase! Take the lady’s horse to the stable. Ma’am, come inside. My mate has a room fixed up for you.”
Gen grabbed her rifle and saddle bags and followed him into the motel. The entry looked like it might have been a foyer where a registration counter would have been once. It was dimly lit by oil lamps. Brighter light spilled from rooms on either side of the hallway past the foyer. Taye paused there.
“Stag, where do you want the surgery to be?”
“Dining hall would be good. Plenty of room and the light’s better in there.”
Taye turned into one of the rooms and the men carrying the stretcher followed him. Gen hurried after them and found herself in a large room with long tables lined up in rows and a counter in front of a wide window without glass. Thick plates were stacked in rows and silverware glinted in tubs on the counter. She stopped and stared. It looked just like the school cafeteria at home. She set her saddlebags on a table and leaned her rifle against it.
Lobo was placed on the table closest to the counter. Taye put a hand on Lobo’s arm and whispered something that Gen didn’t catch. At a motion from Taye, one of his men gathered the blanket-wrapped dog in his arms and went out.
Two teenage boys even younger than Stone hovered on the other side of the window in what must be an industrial kitchen. Behind them Gen could see metal sinks and counters.
“Boil water,” Jumping Stag ordered them, and they turned away to obey. Gen stared as water poured from the faucet over the sink into a big metal pot. Just like that: turn a crank and water spilled forth like a miracle.
A sound behind her made her turn. A woman with long brown hair hurried into the cafeteria. “Taye,” she began, and paused when she saw Lobo on the table. “Oh, no.”
Taye went to her. “Sweetheart,” he said tenderly. “It will be okay. You know we heal fast. Lobo will be up and about in a day. This is his mate.”
The woman followed Taye’s outstretched arm to Gen, and Gen blinked. She knew that face. She was a singer. Her name was Charlie. Or Carly? “Hi,” she said. “Gen Swanson.”
“I’m Carla.”
“Yeah. I know. I recognize you. You were on the plane?”
Carla did a double take. “Were you on the plane? I don’t remember you with the survivors after the crash.”
“I was on the plane when it took off, but I was sucked out before the plane actually crashed.” She smiled uncomfortably. “I thought I was the only one who lived.”
“My God.” Carla’s face creased with concern. “Were you hurt? You must have been hurt.”
Gen took a breath as she remembered the unbearable pain she had woken up to. “Yes.” She ignored the ring of interested Native American faces surrounding her. “Badly,” she said tersely.
Carla seemed to get the hint that she didn’t want to talk about the plane. “Well, why don’t we get you settled in your room while Jumping Stag helps Lobo. Would you like a shower?”
Would she like to win a million dollars? “A hot shower?”
“The hot water will last at least five minutes,” Carla promised.
“One sec.” Gen turned to walk to Laura. “How are you?” she asked.
He took her hand. “Fine. Go take a shower. I will find you when Stag is done with me.”
“She’ll be in room 320,” Carla said. “If not there, then in the rec room.”
Laura squeezed her hand and carried it to his lips. “I’ll see you soon.”
He would find her after surgery? Did he think he would be trotting around the motel after being cut open, a bullet fished out of him and then being sewn up? Maybe he meant some of these guys would carry him to their room. Yeah, that must be it.
Stag waved everyone out. Gen gave Laura an encouraging smile, grabbed her gear and redirected the smile at Carla. “Lead the way.”
The room Carla led her to was mostly empty. There was a double bed covered with a red and yellow quilt, a child’s sized dresser with a lantern on it, and a red rag rug on the wooden floor. A circular firepit made of metal and stone glowed in the corner. Wood logs in various thicknesses were stacked neatly not far from it.
“We’ve run out of stoves,” Carla said. “Sorry about the smoke. Taye will find one for you as soon as possible.”
“No problem,” Gen said sincerely. The room wasn’t toasty, but it wasn’t freezing, either. “Anything over fifty degrees is good enough for me, smoke or no smoke.”
An open door revealed a toilet, sink and tub. Another lamp on the back of the toilet illuminated a slightly dingy white towel hung on a rack opposite the toilet. Gen hadn’t seen that kind of luxury in more than three years.
“The toilet doesn’t flush on its own,” Carla said apologetically. “Pour that bucket of water under the sink into the bowl, and that flushes it.”
“Wow.” Gen blinked in awed wonder. “I haven’t used a toilet that flushes since before I got on the plane. Since then, it has been an outhouse that I had to empty myself every few months.”
Carla shuddered. “I got lucky when Taye won me.”
“He won you?”
“Yeah. I’ll tell you all about it. Take your shower and if you feel up to it, come down to the rec room. It’s on the opposite side of the hall from the dining hall. There’s a fire there, so it is warm. Plus, we have hot apple cider and sugar cookies. And if you are hungry for real food, we can make you a sandwich.”
“Thank you. A sandwich would be great.” In fact, it all sounded like heaven. After Carla left, Gen put the saddlebags on the bed and dug out some mostly clean clothes to change into. The bathroom’s tiled floor was cold, and so was the toilet seat under her thighs, but the delight of peeing into a toilet overrode her shivers. There was soap in the dish in the shower, and after a minute of frigid water pouring out of the shower head, the water turned warm and then hot. Gen rushed to wash her hair and scrub her body. The hot water gradually went warm and then turned icy in a heartbeat. Gen yelped and turned off the water.
That fast shower was the best bathing experience she’d ever had. but once the hot water was gone, she realized how cold the bathroom was.
She shivered as she wrung her hair out, dried off, and hurried to dress. Her hair was too thick and long to dry quickly, and if she put it in a braid, it wouldn’t dry for days. So she draped the towel over her shoulders, left her hair loose, and took the lantern with her down the hall to the cafeteria to check on Laura.
The double doors were shut. She eased one open a few inches and saw Laura sitting in a chair wearing a T-shirt and loose pants, with Jumping Stag sitting beside him, talking softly. Other than the two of them, the room was empty. Laura immediately turned his head to look at the door. Of course, he had heard her.
He gestured to her. “Come in.”
She slid through the door and approached. She gave Jumping Stag a nod. “When are you starting surgery? I can help.”
“It’s done,” he replied with an eyebrow arched in surprise.
“What?”
Gen jerked her gaze to Laura, examining him. He raised the T-shirt, showing his chest with two tiny butterfly bandages showing white against his brown skin holding an incision closed. Gen leaned forward to examine it more closely. The edges of the incision were pink and slightly swollen but didn’t look as if surgery had been done. Laura was a marvel. All of these wolf men were marvels.
She looked at Jumping Stag. “That was quick. I’ve been gone for less than an hour. What kind of anesthetic do you use?”
“None.” Ignoring her look of shock, Jumping Stag stood up and looked at Laura. “You know the routine. Drink lots of fluids and get lots of rest. I’m going to the Plane Women’s House to be with my mate. If you need me, send a runner. Otherwise, I will see you tomorrow.” He dipped his head to Gen and left.
She took his seat. “This healing is miraculous. Do you heal this fast from everything or just bullets?”
“Everything.” He considered and shook his head. “Injuries, but not colds. I haven’t had many colds, but I had one last year and felt awful for ten days.”
“Ha! I guess you aren’t superman after all.”
He shook his head, but his smile turned to a frown when her teeth chattered. “Your hair is wet. You’re freezing.” He stood up, still frowning. “I have to take better care of you. Let’s get you into the rec room. It will be warmer there.”
She put a hand on his arm. “Laura. You’ve taken great care of me. Without you, where would I be right now? Not here, where I’m safe from Mike Lundgren and with a man who cares about me.”
A growl so low she almost didn’t hear it came from his chest. Because she mentioned Mike or because she used his real name?
“Laura, do you mind that I call you that? Snake said you didn’t like it. I could call you Lobo if you’d rather.”
“I like it when you call me Laura. No one else. Only you, because you are special.” He walked toward the doors, tugging her along with her hand in his. “It’s cold in here. Your hair is about to turn into icicles. Come on.”
The room across the hall was almost the same size as the dining hall, but bright with many lamps and a fire in a big fireplace. The warmth of the fireplace was augmented witha couple of small stoves.
There were a couple of dozen men lounging on rugs or sitting at small tables throughout the room. Almost all of them had black hair worn long. Carla sat to the right of the fireplace in a deeply padded chair with another woman seated beside her, while Taye sat on the floor, leaning against Carla’s knee. A Christmas tree stood to the left of the fireplace, its boughs decorated with ribbon bows of gold, red and blue, strings of popcorn, paper chains, and some ornaments made of plaster or maybe dough.
Gen stared at it, then turned to sweep her gaze over the whole room. It looked … homey. Comfortable. The warmth —both the physical warmth from the fireplace and stoves and the warmth of family and friendship— struck her like a physical blow. This was a home. And she wanted a home. She glanced up at Laura beside her. Would it be home without him?
Carla waved at her. “Gen! Come here! Taye, get a chair for Gen. Still hungry?”
Apparently, this question was directed at Gen, so she nodded.
“Snake, get her some hot cider and a sandwich.”
Laura squeezed her hand. “I’m going to bed. Stay as long as you want, and don’t worry about waking me up when you come to bed.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he overrode her. “I’m tired, Gen. I know you are safe here, so I can sleep now. Go ahead and spend time with the Lupa and Rose. I know you wanted to do that. It’s the reason you came with me.”
It was. Yet, along the way, her reasons for coming with him to Kearney had changed. She lifted her face and gave him a light, quick peck on the lips. “Okay. Sleep well. I’ll see you later.”
His cheekbones gained a little color, but his smile widened. “Night.”
Taye brought a chair over and set it between Carla and the fireplace. He gave Gen a nod, took Carla’s hand and laid its palm against his cheek and kissed the inside of her wrist before moving away to join a table of men playing cards. The casual tenderness of it made something inside Gen clench. She’d seen Taye do something else like that earlier. He was casual, not making a show, but it was obvious that he treasured Carla. A sudden yearning bit Gen. Could she have that with Laura?
“Gen!” Carla’s voice made Gen wonder if she had called her name before. “Come and sit by the fire.”
Gen made her way over to the chair. It wasn’t an armchair like the one Carla sat in, but it had a seat cushion tied in place. Snake brought her a steaming mug of apple cider and a roast beef sandwich on a circular bun. Heaven. She ate while looking over the room some more. All the men here were good looking, their chests bare in spite of the cold. A few of them looked openly at her, but most of them pretended to not notice her.
Gen looked at the woman next to Carla. She was slender with shoulder length blond hair and held some sort of yarn project in her hands. Crochet? Knitting? Her face was very young, maybe not even twenty.
“I’m Rose Turner,” the young woman said. “Carla said you were on the plane too.”
“Yes, were you?” She must have been only a kid then and wasn’t much older now.
“Uh-huh. On my way to my dad’s wedding.” She smiled a little grimly. “I didn’t make it. And now I’m stuck here with my supposed mate partying in Omaha.”
Gen stared. “Mate?”
“Not that I wanted one,” Rose proclaimed with a sniff. “But I have one, or would, if he hadn’t run away.”
“Rose,” Carla said gently. “Sky is coming back.”
“When?” Rose asked. “He said he’d be back when I was eighteen. That’s over a year ago.” She blew out a breath and took up her crochet. She turned a smile that looked a little forced on Gen. “So, where are you from? And what have you been doing for the past three years, two months, and ten days?”
Gen got the hint. No more talking about runaway mates. She told the two women about growing up all over the Dakotas with her single mom, and being a vet tech. She told them about Dean and how he had rescued her after the plane crash and taken care of her until he died at the end of the summer.
The other two women shared their own stories. She already knew a little about Carla, since she had watched the television talent show where she had started her career. Rose’s life before the plane had been focused on her friends and school.
“After the plane crash, a few of us who weren’t hurt paired up and went to look for help,” Carla said. “Lisa and I stumbled on a settlement, and the men there sold us to Ray Madison, the mayor of Kearney. Ray held a Bride Fight for us. Taye won me, and Lisa was won by Eddie Madison, Ray’s son.”
Gen leaned forward. “You said he had won you.”
“He did. He only entered because he knew his wolf had picked me for his mate.”
She cast a fond glance across the room to where Taye looked at the cards in his hand with a little smirk. If his hearing was as go as Laura’s, he probably heard every word they said.
“It was scary for me,” Carla said. “I didn’t know him or anyone else and suddenly I was—” She made air quotes. “‘Married’ to him. But it turned out perfectly. I love him. From what I can tell, when a wolf picks a woman, it works out.”
Rose grunted. Carla ignored her.
“The other survivors were found by the Lakota Wolf Clan. Some stayed with the Clan, most came to Kearney. They took over an old apartment building, and more men from the Clan formed a pack there. You’ll meet them. Most of them are coming here for Christmas Eve, and we’ll go there for Christmas dinner.”
Gen blinked. “What is the date today?”
“December twenty-third.” Rose shook out her work, revealing a long narrow scarf in a vibrant blue. “So, how did you and Lobo meet?”
Gen thought back. It had been only a few days, but so much had happened in those few days it seemed like much longer. “Laura came to my cabin to get help for his dog. The Beagle was sick. He’d heard about a witch woman who could heal animals.”
Rose slanted her a look past across Carla. “You? Are you a witch?”
Gen shrugged. “No. Sometimes I get feelings about someone. Woman’s intuition, I guess. But I let the men in Broken Bow think I was a witch because I hoped it would keep them away.”
“Did it?” Rose asked.
“Not so much.” Gen scowled when she remembered Mike Lundgren. “There was one who wanted to marry me. Michael Lundgren. Well, more than one, but once Mike made his interest known, no one dared go against him. I thought I would have to marry him because what choice did I have? I had no money, couldn’t hunt enough or grow enough vegetables to keep myself fed, and my clothes were wearing out.” She shuddered. “I was running out of things to trade. He could keep me fed, sure, but marrying him would have killed my soul. He’s the reason Laura was shot. He hired a couple of guys to kidnap me and bring me back to him.”
She brushed the last sandwich crumbs off her hands and took a sip of cider, privately rejoicing that Mike would never be able to bother her again. “Seriously, I think I would have given up on living after a few years of being married to him.” Her lips quirked in self-mockery. “That sounds melodramatic—”
“No, it doesn’t,” Carla said quietly.
Gen noticed that every man in the room had stopped what they were doing and were focused on her. She cleared her throat and hurried on. “Anyway, when Laura offered to bring me here, I leaped at the chance. And, uh, he told me that his wolf had picked me to be his mate. He said it was my choice. If I wanted, he would just bring me here and go away. But if I accepted him, he would always take care of me.”
An almost sub-vocal rumble went through the room. Carla arched an eyebrow at her.
“So, did you accept him?” she asked.
Gen swore she could have heard a pin drop. No one was even pretending to play cards now. She leaned back in her seat, a soft smile warming her lips. “You know, I think I have. No, I know have. I just have to tell him.”