Wolf Moon Read online

  Wolf Moon

  By

  Madelaine Montague

  ( c) copyright by Madelaine Montague, 2016

  Cover Art by Jenny Dixon 2016

  Smashwords Edition

  New Concepts Publishing

  Lake Park, GA 31636

  www.newconceptspublishing.com

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

  Chapter One

  Rafe only became aware of the time that had passed when discomfort finally filtered into his mind. He shifted his position then, still staring unblinkingly at the ramshackle house perched on the slight rise in the center of what looked like a debris field, waiting.

  This time he was actually going to get a look at her before he left, size her up, see what he could make of her and what sort of challenge she represented.

  It, or rather she, was the one glitch in an otherwise perfect setup.

  And he’d been searching for a very long time for something like it, something as close to perfect as could be found before they invested a lot of time, effort, and money.

  The location was perfect for the casino they planned to build … with plenty of land left over for homes for the current tribe and expansion for future generations.

  Perfect except that this falling down old Victorian didn’t fit in with the ‘décor’ they had in mind—sitting as it did right beside the most ideal location for the casino.

  And occupied by a non-tribal member.

  There wasn’t another solitary sole occupying the land that formed a perimeter around the parcel—nothing but fields or woods—most of it state owned and unlikely ever to come up for sale.

  Irritation flickered through him.

  Sheer perfection except for this old eye-sore.

  He really, really didn’t want to start a new search.

  Beyond that, he knew for an absolute fact that it was highly unlikely he would find anything as perfect as this parcel of land was.

  But word was the owner had stubbornly refused all offers for the place.

  He had trouble believing she’d had to turn down many.

  But she’d damned sure refused his.

  A screen door screeched, jerking him from his introspection and he focused on the opening just as she emerged.

  The scent that wafted across the yard to where he stood just within the shelter of the trees that made up her orchard was like a jolt of heart stimulant. The organ executed a hard jump in his chest and began a faster rhythm—as if he’d launched into a run.

  The flicker of dark red hair caught by a stray breeze and wafted aloft like a fragile flag snagged his gaze and then drew it downward to the face it framed.

  Nice. Above average pretty, but not beautiful enough to draw men like flies and spawn an ugly nature to go with the pretty package.

  Her figure, well he could only guess at that. She was wearing overalls that only touched her at the shoulders—only a sports bra under it, though, and that made Rafe junior stand up and crane for a closer look.

  The urge to join her in the yard was so overwhelming that he broke into a sweat with the effort to remain perfectly still.

  Disconcerted by his reaction, he was torn between two equal forces—the urge to retreat and the urge to approach.

  His reason reasserted itself as she disappeared into the barn.

  He retreated.

  He needed distance to think.

  Fortunately, he hadn’t gone far before it dawned on him that he had the perfect excuse for introducing himself.

  * * * *

  Two eggs!

  Hannah looked at the six hens pecking at the corn she’d just tossed to them with a sense of outrage. “Two measly eggs? Six of you and that’s the best you can do to earn your keep?”

  Shaking her head, she shoveled another scoop of cracked corn for her ducks and headed out of the barn.

  The last thing she’d expected was to come face to face with a tall, dark stranger when she stepped out of the barn. Her feet grew roots. Otherwise her immediate reaction was a reflexive, allover jerk/spasm. She threw the corn, the scoop, and the eggs up in the air, sucking in a sharp breath and uttering a squawk like one of her chickens—except louder—all within a millisecond of discovering a potential threat.

  Her survival instincts were spot on!

  The man backed off a step, holding his hands up palm outward in a gesture of non-threat.

  Sputtering and slapping at the dust particles and corn coating her, Hannah eyed the man warily, her heart hammering in her chest and ears loud enough to deafen her. The gesture calmed her enough to stand her ground—especially since her feet hadn’t gotten the memo to run anyway—but she wasn’t settled by a long shot.

  “What …?” she managed to gasp, struggling to jog her brain into functioning above the level of a slug.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  Startle? That was putting it mildly! “Can … can I help you?” she asked, struggling to be polite. The urge to laugh struck her as her hammering heart slowed down a bit and her brain grasped the likelihood that there was no threat. She uttered a half embarrassed half hysterical giggle as her mind replayed the scene.

  He smiled faintly in response and her heart went wacko again.

  This time because it hit her squarely between the eyes that he was as stunningly handsome as a movie star.

  God! THE most gorgeous man she’d ever seen in her life walks right up to her and she looks like pure hell!

  “I just noticed there was work going on here and thought I’d see if you could use one more.”

  One more, Hannah thought blankly, feeling her jaw slide to half mast?

  She didn’t realize it had until she sucked in a damned gnat! She coughed, sputtered, struggled with the urge to hack the frigging thing up! And finally just swallowed and shuddered.

  Maybe he hadn’t noticed? When she recovered enough to check, he was gazing off into nowhere.

  “This is … quite a place you have here.”

  Uncomfortably certain he’d seen the gnat incident but happy to pretend he hadn’t just like he was, she looked around and winced inwardly. “It will be when I’m done,” she said stoutly. “I’ve just barely gotten started.”

  He nodded and studied her assessingly. “You planning to flip it?”

  It took her a minute to process the question … coming from that gorgeous pair of lips in that deep, spine tingling voice. “Uh,” she said to stall for time while she figured out what he was asking. “No. That isn’t the plan anyway.” She uttered a deep sigh and scanned the area again. “The plan was to restore it to its former glory. This was my grandparent’s place. They raised me ….” She shrugged. “I guess I sort of see it as a tribute to them. Plus I grew up here after my folks were killed and ….”

  He looked away again, giving her a moment to collect herself.

  Sensitive, Hannah noted absently, polite, respectful. How such a hulking man could seem completely unthreatening boggled her mind. But she felt … almost comfortable—like she knew this man she’d never set eyes on before in her life.

  Which she certainly shouldn’t given the fact that the man was so gorgeous she was about to OD on hormones!

  But she did not want him to go away again!

  If all she got the chance at was staring and drooling, she wanted to be able to stare and drool!

  She had no clue of just how prophetic that observation would prove to be, but she dismissed it at the time. “I … uh … I wouldn’t be able to pay much. What sort of work can you do?”

  * * * *

  Rafe’s mind was made up when he met her gaze again.
>
  He wanted this woman and he damned well meant to have her if he had to go rogue!

  Which he might, given that she was human.

  “I’m pretty good to very good in everything to do with construction—or renovation. I’ve done a little or a lot of just about everything. And I wouldn’t need much … if I could sleep in your barn. Actually, room and board and anything you could spare in cash would work for me. My truck’s in hock. Broke down and needed some major repairs so I’m stuck here a while.”

  “The barn!” Hannah exclaimed in horror before she considered it, instinctively turning to look at the ramshackle building.

  He chuckled. “I’ve camped out a bit. I think I can handle it.”

  Hannah felt her face heat with belated embarrassment—for both of them. Gorgeous or not, she just wasn’t comfortable with the idea of sharing her house with a complete stranger—who was passing through! And, regardless of what he’d said, she was even less comfortable with the idea of him sleeping in her horrible barn.

  She did desperately need a little help, though.

  And it sounded as if he was pretty desperate himself, poor thing!

  “Give me a little while to collect myself and think about it, ok? I’m a lot more awake than I was before I came out of the barn, but my brain is still at speed this early in the morning.”

  “Sure,” he responded easily—because it didn’t actually matter to him one way or the other. He planned to hang close. But it would certainly make it easier to court her if he could move in—always assuming the tribal council would approve the request.

  Chapter Two

  Jeff spent a good minute or so watching Hannah Walker as she debated over various jars of tomato sauce. He had seen her the first day he arrived in town. She had been standing at the top of a ladder with her hair tied in a ponytail, trying to wrestle a clump of leaves from the gutters of an old blue and white Victorian not far from the edge of town.

  He wasn't sure what intrigued him more--the fact that she seemed to have a take charge kind of attitude or that, according to the friendly town folk he'd met at Homerville's only dining establishment, she was trying to restore the old house into something that it resembled back in its heyday. Either way, he'd been scoping out Main Street for the past two days, hoping to catch a glimpse of her.

  Because he thought his best chance was to make the meeting seem completely accidental.

  Tonight, he’d hit pay dirt.

  He watched her for a few moments, chuckling to himself at his wit as he selected a jar of sauce off the shelf and approached her.

  "I'd suggest this one." He held it out to her. "If you like a little heat, that is."

  He knew his clever wit could backfire. It was risky being so suggestive. After all, he didn't know if she was the type of woman who would consider it amusing and play along or be insulted and angry about his bold innuendo. If she was the latter, then he’d probably blown any chance to recoup.

  On the other hand, he needed to move fast if he was to have any chance of his plan working.

  When Hannah looked down at the label of Hot 'n Spicy, and then back up at him and grinned, he felt a moment of relief and triumph that his gamble seemed to have paid off.

  "Do lines like that really work?" she said with sardonic amusement that suggested he needed to do some quick stepping. He’d caught her attention, but holding it was another matter.

  He chuckled. "You tell me."

  "I'm willing to give it a try. The sauce, that is." She deposited the jar into her basket and then extended her hand, but stopped halfway, turning it over and back again. "I'd shake your hand if mine weren't such a mess."

  "I don't mind." He looked down at her paint-speckled pale skin before taking her hand in his. "Jeff."

  "Hannah. I was named for my grandmother."

  Touchy about her name. "Nice to meet you, Hannah."

  She nodded, seemed to hesitate and then apparently made up her mind.

  Hooked, he thought triumphantly!

  "So, is this how you spend your Friday nights? Trolling around small-town grocers seeking out any damsels in distress who might be looking for a little Hot 'n Spicy?"

  This is going to be easier than I thought, Jeff thought as the two of them shared a laugh at her byplay. "Just passing through, actually. But I kind of fell in love with the countryside the moment I got here so I think I'm going to hang around for a few days. Enjoy the leaves, see some of the scenery."

  She let that suggestive comment go right over her head—mostly because it did. It wasn’t until later that she realized he was suggesting she was the scenery that interested him.

  "I figured. Don't think I've seen you around before, although I haven't been getting out much lately." She gestured to her paint-covered overalls.

  "You own that old Victorian on the edge of town, right? Saw it on my way into town a few days ago. I have to admit I was glad to see it looked like someone was taking the time to restore it to its former glory instead of gutting and modernizing it like all those annoying renovator shows on T.V."

  Hannah grimaced and shrugged. "Well … actually Pop-Pop did some ‘modernizing’ on it not long after they bought it, but that was so long ago the plumbing and electric wiring is nearly as antique as the house. It belonged to my Gramma and Pop-Pop. They bought it not long after they married—somewhere around WWI. Now that they've both passed, people keep coming to me, wanting to buy it so they can renovate, but there's no way I'm going to let that happen.” She stopped, sucking in a calming breath as resentment threatened to take hold and forced a little chuckle. “But, truthfully, I’m beginning to feel like I’m in way over my head. I guess I should have thought a little longer about it. It's taken me a month just to strip the floors. Not to mention ...."

  Hannah trailed off, dipping her head and uttering a soft, self-conscious laugh.

  "Not to mention what?"

  "Oh, it's nothing. I know it's just my imagination getting the better of me. I grew up there. You’d think I’d be used to the old place, but I guess it’s because I’m not used to …" She trailed off again as it dawned on her that she’d almost admitted, to a complete stranger, that she lived alone!

  "Oh?" Alex said, propping against a shelf with the air of someone who’s ready hang and gossip for a spell.

  "It's silly, really. I think it's a combination of things. Being bone tired. The changing of the seasons and the darkness this time of year. I think I've just been working too hard and my mind is starting to play tricks on me."

  "How so?"

  "Well, you can imagine. A creepy old house out in the country. I keep hearing weird things. I mean, I guess I’m imagining it. I can’t picture any of the locals hanging out to scare me."

  "Like what?" He couldn’t decide whether to play it as serious or jokingly, which might drawn her out and which might make her clam up.

  Hannah paused for a moment. "I can't believe I'm going to tell this to a complete stranger."

  Jeff chuckled. "Oh, come on. It can't be that bad."

  Hannah threw her head back and laughed. "Alright, alright. It's just -- some nights when I'm sleeping, I swear I hear a scraping noise at the back door, like the sound a cat or a dog would make. But I don't have a cat or a dog. And then there have been these strange markings in the dirt the next day that I can't explain."

  "Well, that could easily just be a raccoon or a possum, scratching around, looking for a way to come in from the cold."

  "You see, I thought about that. But that's not even all of it."

  Jeff smirked. "You mean there's more?"

  "There is. And it's the creepiest thing. I've been hearing this ... well it sounds like … panting."

  "Panting?"

  "Yeah, panting. Breathing. Heavy breathing outside my window at night."

  "Maybe you have an admirer," Jeff said, digging his elbow into her side.

  "Ha, I don't think so! The only one around my house is my handyman, Rafe, and trust me," she said, rolling her ey
es, "he doesn't seem all that interested in anything other than working."

  "Well, maybe he's just playing hard-to-get. After all, how could he resist a lovely lady like yourself?"

  "Aww, you're such a flatterer. But seriously, I think it's just me being over-worked and being alone in that big old house all day. All my friends thought I was crazy when I told them I'd decided to renovate the old place instead of selling it to the highest bidder. But I just couldn't help myself." She tilted her head slightly and smiled at him teasingly. "I kind of have a weakness for older things."

  Jeff ran his fingers through his salt & pepper hair. "There is something to be said for maturity."

  "Yes, there is."

  "Seems like you're not the only one who has plans on bigger and better things. There's quite a bit of revitalization going on all over town, huh?" Jeff reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a brightly colored flyer. "Saw this tucked under my windshield wiper when I went out to the car this morning."

  Jeff handed her the flyer. She took it and nodded.

  "Oh, you mean the old drive-in? Great, isn't it? When I was a kid, we used to go there all the time. It was such a shame when they shut it down and it fell into disrepair. I'm so glad that they decided to fix it up. And just in time for the Harvest Festival, too."

  Jeff nodded at the flyer. "Hayrides, kettle corn, and a showing of The Night of the Werewolf at dusk. You going?"

  "What, to the re-opening? I wouldn't miss it." Hannah didn't skip a beat. "Although it would be nice to go with a friend."

  "What about your girlfriends?"

  Hannah shook her head. "They've all got kids and husbands to go with. And to tell you the truth, I was hoping for something a little more ... romantic. One-on-one. I mean, half the fun of going to a drive in was the chance to get in a little necking and cuddling."

  "Privacy is definitely underrated," Jeff said, drawing closer to her. She smelled faintly of lavender soap and paint, something he didn't think he would be attracted to. But he was, and she certainly didn't pull away from him.

  "Is that an invitation?" she asked, arching one eyebrow.

  "Would you like to have dinner with me first? And then go to the screening afterward?"