Wolf Moon Read online

  Picking up her brush, she raked the tangles from her red locks, smoothed it and then twisted it into an informal bun at the base of her skull.

  She’d chosen a simple, elegant dress that was comfortable and still made her feel sexy. She decided on sandals to go with it rather than heels. It was already a little cool to be wearing sandals, but she didn’t think cold feet would be an issue.

  Not that kind anyway.

  "Jeff is interested,” she muttered to herself, “so just quit beating yourself up over the one that wasn’t and enjoy the damned date!”

  By the time she made her way back over to the window, she saw that Jeff had arrived and now stood in the driveway looking skyward. She struggled not to compare him to Rafe—who was also standing in the yard—making no pretense that he wasn’t staring suspiciously at the guy who’d just pulled up in front of her house.

  Shit!

  She’d been so busy gloating about having a date she hadn’t considered that she should have warned Rafe that she was expecting someone!

  After a few moments, Jeff turned and looked up, waving when he noticed Hannah standing in the window watching him from the top floor. She smiled and waved back, motioning to the front door before heading downstairs to meet him.

  By the time she got to the front door, he was waiting for her on the porch—well standing on the front porch. He’d walked the length of it and was headed back in her direction, leaning over the railing and poking at the bushes as he progressed. He straightened as she stepped outside and turned to her and smiled widely.

  Curious, Hannah crossed the porch and joined him, glancing over the railing. “Did you lose something?”

  He looked a little startled. His eyes widened a moment, his expression going blank. Then he smiled a smile that contained no humor and little friendliness. “I was just looking for tracks.”

  Hannah blinked at him. “What …? Oh!” She laughed with more than a little discomfort having forgotten the conversation about ‘weird things’ until he brought it up again.

  Struggling to recover and redirect his attention, she glanced out toward the horizon as he had earlier and stared appreciatively at the multi-colored sunset. "Enjoying the view? Gorgeous isn't it?"

  "It certainly is."

  Hannah glanced at him when he spoke, saw he wasn't looking at the sky, only at her, and looked away again. She laughed self-consciously, but didn’t acknowledge the compliment. Instead, she returned her attention to the landscape behind the house. In the golden light of sunset, it looked like a painting--the old maples and birches now handsome with leaves of crimson and gold.

  "It really is beautiful, isn't it? Makes me miss my Gramma and PopPop, though. Even before my folks died and I came to live with my grandparents, we always spent a lot of time out here in the fall helping out—especially with the pears. Then Gramma and mom would make pickled pear relish and can it. It brings back so many memories,” she said nostalgically.

  "Sounds like fun."

  "It was. But with all the other work around here, I haven't had a chance to tend to the tree, so Rafe does it for me."

  As if on cue, Rafe came around the corner of the house, his bushel basket overflowing with pears, which he carried up to the porch.

  "Ma'am," he said, depositing the basket at her feet.

  "Hannah,” she reminded him. “Thank you, Rafe."

  She stared at him hard, trying to catch his eye and gauge his reaction to Jeff, but he seemed intent on ignoring Jeff’s presence altogether. "Oh … uh, Rafe. Just an FYI I might be late getting back tonight—well, probably will. Jeff’s taking me out to dinner and then we’re going to catch the show at the new drive-in.”

  Rafe glanced at her then, and then focused on Jeff for a split second, nodded, and headed back down the steps.

  "The strong, silent type, I take it," Jeff murmured with obvious amusement, reaching down to pick up one of the pears. It was golden with a red blush along one side.

  "No. He isn’t much for conversation," Hannah retorted a little sourly, but when she saw Rafe hesitate, as if he’d overheard, she added, “but strong is helpful, especially since he’s also very skilled.”

  Her face heated when she realized that her effort to sooth Rafe’s ego had sounded sexually suggestive. She tried to tell herself it hadn’t, that she was just self-conscious, but when she glanced at Jeff and encountered an angry look she realized it wasn’t just her imagination. Jeff had thought so, too.

  Discomfort wafted through her. She cleared her throat. “Shall we go?” she asked brightly. “I’m starving!”

  Jeff seemed to shake his annoyance. He took her hand and led her down the steps and toward the car, then released her and opened the car door for her. The courteous gesture lightened her mood considerably. Smiling at him, flicking a quick glance toward Rafe to see if he’d noticed, she slid into the passenger seat.

  She was disappointed again. Rafe had taken the ladder down and carried it across the lawn to the barn. In the process, he’d missed the entire damned princess routine!

  She returned her attention to Jeff just in time to encounter a lascivious glance at her bare thighs. The skirt of her dress, she discovered, had slipped up almost to her crotch when she’d slid across the seat. Grabbing the hem, she snatched the fabric down and smoothed over her thighs and Jeff straightened, closing the door with a little more force than she thought necessary.

  Oh great! Things were looking up already.

  Well at least she didn’t think she had to worry about Jeff being attracted to her. If she felt like getting laid it looked like he was her man!

  She wasn’t sure she was.

  She’d thought so at the time—or she’d at least been open to the idea.

  That look Jeff had given her had unnerved her a little, though—the angry one—had set off alarm bells.

  She’d just met him! If he was that jealous did she really want to get more involved?

  Of course, he was only visiting the area. There would be no serious involvement, but did she want to do anything that might make him more possessive?

  She glanced at him a little uneasily as he climbed in behind the wheel. He met her gaze with a smile that relieved her.

  It wasn’t until later that she realized that smile never reached his eyes.

  Chapter Six

  As soon as they’d ordered, Jeff found out that he wasn't going to be able to get away with just small talk. Hannah turned her chair and directed her attention squarely on him.

  "So, you know all about me and my renovation ambitions, but I know virtually nothing about you. What do you do, Jeff? And how exactly did you end up here, in Homerville of all places?"

  "What? You seem surprised that I’d like it here at all. Don't you?"

  Hannah chuckled. “Yes and no. Like I said, I grew up around here. It’s home. It feels … safe, comfortable, familiar. At the same time, I really like my privacy and you don’t get much of that in a place like this.” She shrugged. “But, of course, every place has good points and bad. Thing is, it’s home … for me.

  "That's exactly it," Jeff said, pausing a moment to take a swig of his beer and think of a believable response. "I love that it isn't a tourist trap, that it still maintains that small town charm."

  A frisson of uneasiness slithered through Hannah. It was the sort of sentiment couples looking for a safe place to raise their family expressed—quiet, safe, charming. Singles weren’t usually looking for that. They wanted action, entertainment, social opportunities—beyond church socials.

  "True. But you must have some other reason for coming here of all places. We aren't exactly a hotspot, unless you count the annual tractor pull, but if that's the case, you're out of luck. That was last month," she said in an attempt at humor to chase away the discomfort of suspicions she had no reason to feel other than his answers seemed ‘off’.

  Jeff chuckled uncomfortably. She was relentless. He would give her that. But he was just as determined to thwart her curiosity. After a
moment’s thought, he shrugged at the idea that came to him, realizing it was at least close to the truth and should sound like the truth—even if it actually wasn’t. "Actually—I usually don’t tell people because you never know how they’ll react or how they’ll interpret it, but … well I'm a wildlife photographer. I … uh … freelance,” he added quickly when it occurred to him she was on the verge of asking what publication he worked for. “I realized it would be perfect for this series idea I’d been toying with.”

  Hannah leaned closer, her eyes alight with interest. "Oh, really? So you decided to stay to what ...? Capture the local wildlife?"

  "Wolves. I was thinking about a series against the backdrop of small town USA. You know, they’ve invaded a lot of the major cities on the eastern seaboard. A wolf pack attacked a jogger right in a park in the middle of a city just … well, I guess it’s been at least a year ago now,” Jeff said, clearing his throat. He immediately regretted the impulse to elaborate since that story was just too close to home and for several moments threatened his grip on his emotions. "That and the leaves, of course. The countryside, the changes of the seasons. The colors around here are so spectacular, I couldn't resist. Not to mention ... the locals."

  Hannah gaped at him, hardly even absorbing anything he said after that first comment. “Wolves?” she echoed, blinking at him and then feeling her face turn red from a mixture of confusion and suspicion. “Uh … I’m pretty sure we don’t have wolves around here.”

  Fury flashed through Jeff—partly at himself for the slip and partly at Hannah for her seeming determination to trip him up—and was quickly and ruthlessly tamped. She wasn’t actually suspicious, he told himself. She was just more intelligent than the people he usually dealt with and less inclined to just accept things at face value.

  He reached across the table and put his hand on hers, hoping a little flirtation would steer the conversation away from him and back onto something a little less nerve wracking. “This local in particular,” he added pointedly.

  It seemed to work. Her vaguely suspicious expression immediately lightened.

  "So, what about you?" he asked.

  "What, my career? I'm sort of between things right now, which actually kind of works out, considering the house and all."

  "Oh?” he pretended surprise. “You mean you're not a professional interior designer?"

  Hannah tilted her head back and laughed. "Oh, hell no! Apparently, you haven't seen what a nightmare I am with a paintbrush. One day maybe, but I still have a lot to learn. Plus, small town folk aren't exactly lining up to hire an interior designer. That's probably why most folks seem a little amused at my efforts to redo the house on my own."

  "You ever think about leaving?"

  "Homerville? Oh yeah, probably about a million times. But there's something about this town that I just can't bring myself to leave behind. I guess … I guess it’s just that all my best memories are tied to the place."

  Hannah had a dreamy look in her eyes as she spoke.

  Jeff shifted uncomfortably as his body reacted even before he consciously acknowledged the attraction.

  Which was poorly timed in his humble opinion!

  He’d been tracking that bastard a solid year. No female—be she ever so sexy—was going to get between him and the son-of-a-bitch that had killed his girlfriend!

  Well, one of the bastards, but the last one. He’d taken care of the rest of the fucking pack.

  It made his task easier in a way.

  And complicated the hell out of things in another way—or would, if he allowed himself to get sucked in.

  He wasn’t going to.

  She was useful, and that was all there was to the story. Even supposing she survived, she was clearly enamored of the sick freak. She might thank him and she might turn on him.

  Didn’t matter.

  Either way, he was about to be done and then he could move on.

  * * * *

  Rafe was so thoroughly pissed off when Hannah got into the car with Jeff and left that it was a while before it occurred to him just where it was that he’d seen that face before.

  Far too long a while.

  He had stomped around her place ‘putting stuff up’ ‘sorting and organizing’—basically making unnecessary work for himself in an effort to divert him from the anger that was liable to make him do something stupid--until he’d begun to think it was getting on toward time for her to be back.

  His brain didn’t help. It kept recycling the events that had unfolded over and over so he could pick them apart and kick himself.

  She thought he wasn’t interested.

  He shouldn’t have been surprised since he’d been at pains to toe the line until he knew whether the council would allow the mating or not, but he was so damned focused on her that it hadn’t occurred to him that she would consider his behavior evidence of a lack of interest!

  Hell! He’d been in no doubt that she was as attracted to him as vice versa. She lit up like a Christmas tree any time he was anywhere near her and began producing the chemical attraction that had been driving him insane!

  She was human, but he was damned if he could see how she could possibly have missed his response to that mating call! Deep down she must still be in touch with her instincts enough to have ‘felt’ it?

  Maybe not.

  Or maybe she was just tired of waiting for him to make a move?

  Those old bastards heading up the council never got in a hurry about any damned thing unless it was something they wanted!

  He shook the thoughts and moved to a place in the yard where he could see the moon.

  It was full tonight, and so bright it lit up Hannah’s place almost like daylight—dusk anyway.

  It was mooning across the sky as if a strong wind was blowing it!

  It was while he was staring up at it, straining for the sound of a car engine, trying to decide if it was ten-ish or eleven-ish when a distant memory surfaced.

  Hannah’s ‘date’ was the bastard he’d pulled out of a pack of rogues!

  He’d been standing right in the middle of them, screaming obscenities and daring them to tear him apart!

  Which they would have if he hadn’t arrived when he did.

  Not that he hadn’t acquitted himself fairly well … considering he was only human and totally insane.

  He dismissed the thought almost as soon as it occurred to him because it just didn’t seem logical that the guy would be here—now—with Hannah.

  Everything had happened so fast, he had to strain to capture the memory—and he still wasn’t completely certain it was the same man.

  But he reminded him of that man, and what were the odds?

  Probably a million to one … unless the guy had followed him for some reason?

  It clicked in his mind then. He’d known someone was on his back trail. He’d thought it was more of an annoyance, though, than anything to get worked up over.

  Could he seriously consider it might have been a human?

  Or was he just that crazy jealous?

  He shrugged. He thought he was just that crazy jealous, but on the other hand he was pretty sure that, between the two of them, that’s taken out the rogue pack. He’d put it down to a stray he’d missed—because he sure as hell couldn’t think of any reason for that stupid bastard to be tailing him!

  But what if—as farfetched as it seemed--it had been him all along, he wondered, feeling cold creep through him abruptly?

  If it was, he sure as hell hadn’t followed him all this way to thank him for his help!

  Chapter Seven

  After a good meal of hot wings chased by ice cold beer, Hannah was not only thoroughly relaxed and enjoying herself, she was a lot more ‘in’ to Jeff and the idea of convincing him to go for a homerun on their first date.

  After all, he was attractive and he wasn’t likely to be around long.

  She might as well live a little! She was bound to have a long dry spell once he was gone.

 
She chuckled at a stray thought as they left the diner and headed toward the downtown street Festival.

  Jeff, glanced at her, smiling curiously.

  Hannah shook her head. “That’s the downside to living in a tiny town where you know everybody.”

  He lifted his brows questioningly.

  She shook her head again, regretting that she’d brought it up. “You can’t go anywhere without running into people you’ve known—all of your life!”

  He nodded. “I thought the waiter didn’t look at me very friendly. An old flame?”

  Hannah snorted. “Very old. We dated in high school—like a million years ago.”

  Jeff laughed. “High school wasn’t that long ago for you,” he disputed gallantly.

  Hannah shrugged, her amusement vanishing as it sank in that it actually hadn’t been all that long. It just seemed that way because there’d been so many life-changing events in the years since. “I guess not. Seems that way, though. Seems like a lifetime.”

  “Life can be that way,” Jeff responded grimly, “when you lose someone close to you.”

  Hannah sent him a glance of surprise but he seemed disinclined to elaborate and she was sorry she’d led them toward unhappy nostalgia.

  The festival distracted both of them. Ordinarily public drinking wasn’t allowed, but the ordinance had been relaxed for the festival. Jeff stopped by a vendor and bought them both a cup of spiked punch.

  Hannah bit her lip. “I don’t know how familiar you are with that stuff, but they call it hunch punch around here. It’ll knock you on your ass if you aren’t careful.”

  Jeff snorted a laugh and inhaled enough of the drink to send him in a coughing fit.

  Hannah didn’t know whether to laugh or not. “Sorry!”

  He shook his head, chuckled, and then coughed again. “Hunch punch, huh?”

  Hannah laughed with embarrassment more than humor. “Hey! I didn’t name it!”

  He took another sip. “I don’t taste anything but punch.”

  “And you won’t. You’ll wonder what happened tomorrow. It’s got 100 proof golden grain in it. Nobody notices until they’re falling down drunk. They should’ve named it sledge hammer.”