Chapter 11
CHAPTER 11
E mery
“We’re here.” A deep voice penetrates the haze of sleep I’ve fallen into.
It takes me a few attempts, though, to blink my eyes fully open. Chance must’ve driven through the entire night.
“You didn’t sleep?” I ask as I sit upright in the passenger seat of his truck, fixing my wrinkled clothes.
He gives a short shake of his head before his eyes rake over me.
A glance down at his arm reveals smooth, veiny skin. But no injury. Not even a scar. These guys really do heal quickly.
I gulp and hold my breath. I can only imagine how disoriented I appear. My hand immediately goes to my hair and I groan at the frizz I feel. Without another thought, I reach for the handbag I kept in my suitcase in the back seat of Chance’s truck. On instinct I pull out the extra hairbrush, the face wash sheets I always keep on hand and a few other supplies to put myself together.
Though I left most of my makeup and hair products back in the motel, having some of my familiar toiletries on hand brings me a modicum of relief.
A woman must always look her best.
Despite my somewhat precarious situation right now, fixing myself to look somewhat presentable is the least I can do.
“What are you doing?” Chance asks.
I clear my throat. “I, um…nothing,” I answer before fixing my hair into another neat bun. That’s the only thing I can do with it at the moment. I start to realize that it’s been well over two weeks since my hair straightening and coloring treatment and I’m running the risk of my roots starting to frizz up.
Not only that, but the awful gray streak in my hair may soon start to reveal itself.
It’s hideous for a woman so young to have gray hair.
I clear my throat and look around. “Where are we?”
In the distance there are red-rust and orange-brown mountain ranges as far as the eye can see. Some of them are snow-capped, but most aren’t. The cerulean blue sky with its white, cottony clouds contrasts the earth tones of the mountains in a breathtaking manner.
I’m reminded of the mountains in Colorado where I was interning. These mountains aren’t as tall as the mountains in Colorado were, but they’re just as beautiful. Something inside me dances with energy and I have the strangest urge to get out and walk—no, run—through the mountains.
Similar to how I felt during my short stint in Colorado, but even more so here.
I shake that odd feeling off and peer through the windshield, straight ahead. A stretch of a dirt road lays before us. The road opens out to various smaller streets, dotted with buildings.
They look like homes.
Except most of them are built into the earth. As if they’re a part of the land and not a separate building built on top of the ground. Most of the homes have the rust-red coloring that’s typical in this part of the Southwest.
I can’t make out the details from this distance, but some look as if their roofs are covered by solar panels.
“This is my home.”
My eyebrows raise.
I turn to him. “You mean where your pack lives?”
He nods.
“This…” He pauses to turn his head toward the building we’ve stopped in front of. “…is our pack doctor’s office.” He turns back to me. “Are you up for a visit?”
“Me?” I swallow. “Why?”
I look from Chance to the building. It’s one of the only buildings around us that isn’t the signature red-clay color. This building is white and larger than the rest. Most notable, however, is that black lettering that reads “Shaman” across the front.
“What is this?” I ask.
“Dr. Drake is our pack’s shaman. He’s able to treat us in both our human and wolf forms. He knows a lot about our kind.”
“Why is he called a shaman?” The question falls from my lips without thinking. I flinch at how rude I must sound.
“Many of our pack are indigenous,” he answers. “Apache.”
I swallow, because that’s obvious looking at Chance.
“Dr. Drake has been our pack’s shaman and doctor for three generations.”
Chance’s Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallows. When he doesn’t continue, I get the sense, not for the first time, that he’s a man of few words. He speaks a sentence or two and would rather let the person he’s speaking with figure the rest out.
“And you want him to check me out to figure out what I am?” I summarize.
The corner of his mouth ticks upward. Not quite a smile, but something close to it. My heartbeat speeds as I anticipate seeing a full smile from him.
Then I remember my senses and push that thought right out of my head.
“If you think it’ll help us figure things out, so be it,” I say.
The words barely have a chance to escape my mouth before he’s out of the truck and rounding the front to come open the passenger door for me. Placing my hand in his offered one feels like the most natural thing in the world.
His roughened finger pads are the complete opposite of my manicured ones but, once again, I find myself liking the contrast. Especially when Chance’s hand tightens around mine.
There’s an assurance in his grasp that I didn’t know I needed.
“When you say shaman, what exactly does that mean?” I ask as we head into the doctor’s office.
A chime sounds as the door pushes over the threshold.
I glance up at Chance and tug on his hand, slightly, when he doesn’t answer.
“What does a shaman do exactly?” I have his attention.
He tilts his head to the side. “He’s more of a doctor than a shaman these days,” he answers.
I start to ask him for clarification, but we’re interrupted. A man of medium height, who appears to be in his sixties rounds the corner.
I could’ve sworn Chance said this Dr. Drake has been their doctor for three generations. That has to make him close to…
“Chance?” Dr. Drake says, breaking into my thoughts. He greets Chance with a smile, his bronzed cheeks wrinkling. “You’re back home. The pack has missed you.”
The older man pushes his black-framed glasses up his nose and then looks at me, his smile widening. He then drops his gaze between Chance and I.
That’s when I realize my hand is still firmly in Chance’s hold. The older man’s smile grows even wider.
“And this is?”
Chance peers down at me and then at our clasped hands. Slowly, he releases my fingers, almost as if he doesn’t want to let them go.
“This is Emery. I told you about her when I texted you,” Chance says in a businesslike tone.
“Ah yes.” The older man approaches with his arms outstretched. “Emery. The shifter who does not know she’s a shifter.”
He lets out a laugh as if he made a joke.
I look over at Chance. His face softens slightly. That must be his reassuring look. He’s telling me without words to trust this Dr. Drake.
“I-I don’t know what Chance told you,” I say to the doctor. “But I only found out that shifters exist yesterday. Out of the blue,” I add. “Despite what Chance believes, I can almost assure you that I’m not a wolf shifter.”
The doctor’s smile fades but doesn’t disappear completely. “Well, you would know your life experience more than anyone.”
His words don’t come across as condescending. For whatever reason, that gives me some reassurance.
“However, I would like to run some tests. If you’re open to it?”
I look between Chance and the doctor. “What kind of tests?”
“Blood tests. Listen to your heartbeat. The basics.”
“I go to the doctor regularly for my annual physicals and exams. I never get sick. I’m fit as a fiddle,” I say with assurance. I can’t even remember the last time I had more than the sniffles.
“My family goes to one of the best family practitioners where we’re from in Upstate New York.”
Surely, if there were something amiss in my tests the doctors would’ve brought it to my attention. I don’t want to tell this Dr. Drake that he and Chance are mistaken, but I’d know if I were a wolf shifter.
As soon as the thought crosses my mind, something feels as if it moves in my belly. Almost like my stomach growling, but it’s not hunger I feel.
Are you sure?
A voice asks in my mind. I push it away as if it’s nothing more than my subconscious mind overworking itself, but I can’t help but notice the question has almost a distinct voice.
With a shake of my head, I return my attention to Dr. Drake.
“I’m sure the doctors you’ve gone to are great. Still, since you’re here and you’ve been through quite a lot in the past few days.” He pauses, his eyes flickering to Chance.
“I would love it if you could indulge an old doctor and allow me to run a few tests. Just to make sure everything’s in working order.”
His cheeks wrinkle as that smile of his returns.
“Besides, the most excitement I’ve had lately is when one of the newly shifted pups got stung by a bee causing his snout to swell.” He looks up at Chance. “Turns out Richie Jr. is allergic to bees.” He tuts.
“Nothing a little ointment couldn’t fix. That and great shifter genes that had him healed in no time.”
Chance gives a nearly imperceptible nod of his head.
“Sure,” I finally say, shrugging. “I don’t see the harm.” I’m sure he won’t find anything, but if he needs some entertainment, why not?
“Oh.” I suddenly remember. “After our exam, maybe you can give me a prescription for some iron pills?”
“Iron pills?” A wrinkle appears as his forehead creases in confusion.
“Yes, I left them behind in my motel room.” I turn to Chance. “That, along with much of my makeup and other products. But since we’re here at the doctor…” I trail off before turning to face Dr. Drake.
“That’s the only health issue I’ve had. I have low iron so I’ve been on pills for years. Usually, my mother gets my prescription refilled, but since I’m here, would you be able to create a prescription for me? I’m sure there’s a pharmacy not too far from here, right?”
The confusion on the doctor’s face doesn’t go away completely, but it dissolves slightly as he says, “Yes, there is one in town. Once we get these tests over with and analyzed I can write out your prescription.”
“Thank you,” I say, relieved. “My mother…” I trail off.
“Oh gosh.” I clutch Chance’s arm. “My mother.” I haven’t spoken to her in two days. I’m sure she must be worried.
How am I going to explain to her about Ashley?
The truth is, I’m not in a huge rush to speak with either one of my parents, but I’m certain they must be worried.
I tell Chance all of this.
“We’ll get you in contact with your parents once we’re done with Dr. Drake and you’ve had an opportunity to eat.”
His voice is so calm and steady. So much so that I just want to lean on him for support. Despite having slept in the truck much of the way here, while he did all of the driving, I’m feeling wrung out.
And he says ‘we’ as if we’re in this together. Like no matter what happens, I can rely on him.
I only have one thought as I follow Dr. Drake to his office so we can get these tests over and done with: God, I hope that’s true.