Wilder (Birds of a Feather Book 1)
Author: North, Lena
Date: 2016-12-14
Publisher: FAB Publishing

Wilder

Lena North

Copyright © 2016 by Lena North

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Cover design: Copyright © 2016 by FAB Publishing.

Illustrations & Cover: Copyright © 2016 by Lena North

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Discover other titles by Lena North:

The Dreughan series:

Courage

Reason

Joy

47 Sweet Street

Sissa Raudulfsdatter:

Runes of Fate

My thanks

As always, to my family.

This one is also for you, Amanda, with my thanks for general counsel as well as for sorting out all my funky grammar and misplaced commas – but mostly because you got what Vilda, Sannah and Troy was all about, long before most others did.

Prologue

I’m flying, gliding across the sky, twisting and turning with the winds. The last rays of the evening sun slide over me, and I scream loudly, with pure happiness because I am complete. I am at peace. There’s someone next to me, and I hear a deep chuckle, so I turn, knowing that I will see my love. I’m smiling because I know that his beautiful eyes will smile back.

Then my tears wake me up, and I remember. I have nothing. I am alone.

Chapter One

What?

I think I almost gave the lady filling up gas at the pump next to mine a heart attack when I without any kind of warning gave up a loud shout.

A few drops of gas had escaped the nozzle, and I watched how they fell, like in slow motion, toward the ground. My foot remained frozen and then the drops hit my white sneaker. My favorite white sneakers that I got from Gramps for my birthday almost a year ago. That's when I screamed, releasing my frustration and anger, letting a few translucent drops and a pair of cheap sneakers be the outlet. It made the older woman jump, and she backed away, looking at me like I was deranged. I did not give a shit, not in the least. Grandpa Willy was dead, I was on my way back home from the funeral, and I was way beyond caring about anything.

Earlier that day, I'd stood there, alone in front of the coffins, without feeling anything except the tickle from a few drops of rain slowly making their way over my bent neck and into the neckline of the god-awful, white, flowing dress I was wearing. Willy would have laughed at the whole spectacle, and he would’ve hated that I'd been wussy enough to put the traditional funeral clothes on. He knew I hated dresses, and he wasn't much for fashion, but even he knew that white was totally not my color. My white hair and skin seemed to blend into the dress, giving me a ghostly look where the only thing breaking the whiteness was my eyes.

When people are nice to me, they tell me that my eyes are the color of amber, but in reality, they are mostly yellow, which isn't even remotely close to the more common shades of brown or pale, grayish blue. Freaky eyes, my classmates told me when I was younger, before I found out just how useful skills in martial arts were. Gramps enrolled me in classes when I was six, saying it was to teach me self-defense. I quickly decided that beating up bullies was defending myself, which justified using my newfound skills.

I also wear sunglasses whenever I can get away with it without looking like a celebrity wannabe. Due to some weird weather phenomenon involving how clouds move between the mountains and winds gush over the open sea, we mostly have fantastic weather in our little country, so I get away with my dark shades often.

When they'd lowered the coffins into the ground, the huge gathering passed by me to press my hand, give me awkward hugs or kiss the air close to my cheek. Everyone told me how brave I was. How strong. The truth was that since my father's assistant, Bethany, called to tell me that Gramps had been in a car accident, I'd felt nothing. Nothing, except for an awful icy ball of fear that settled firmly in the pit of my stomach. Bethany had continued to murmur soft nonsense, likely thinking that she was comforting me and probably hoping that this would give her brownie points with my father. Somewhere in the middle of her inane murmurs I cut off the call and started running, desperately hoping that it was all a sick joke.

When I got to the hospital, they ushered me into a large, sterile room and there he was. Willy. My wonderful grandfather. My family. He was laying on a bed, with a sheet pulled up over his chest, and it looked almost like he was sleeping. No injuries were visible, and his eyes were closed, his face relaxed. A strange vibration in the room hit me as soon as I entered, or perhaps it was a lack of vibration, I couldn’t tell, but either way, I knew instantly that Bethany had told the truth. He was gone. Dead.

I gripped the bed frame so hard my knuckles were white and tried to focus on pushing air in and out of my lungs. I couldn’t move, couldn’t talk, and I remained frozen at the foot of his bed until one of the nurses pried my fingers off the steel frame and gently pushed me out of the room. Then they gave me hot, sweet blackcurrant tea, and told me that Willy's heart had given up on him. Massive coronary were the words they used, and I blinked. My grandfather had the biggest heart I knew, and I'd been firmly lodged in it, felt safe there. It felt surreal when they calmly told me that it had suddenly stopped working, and I wondered if I'd ever feel safe again.

They also explained that there had been a passenger in the car as it swerved over the road and straight into the mountainside.

My mother.

I stared at them, not knowing what to say and wondering what they were talking about. My mother never went anywhere with Willy. I couldn't even remember if I'd ever seen them together. Growing up, I spent the weeks in my parent's house, of course. It wouldn't look good if people knew how little they actually saw of their only child. They had an image to uphold, and schools in our swanky suburb to Prosper City were considered excellent.

But when school was out on Friday afternoons, that's when I went home. Until I was old enough to drive myself, someone picked me up and took me to Double H, Willy's ranch up in the foothills. I didn't return to my parents' house until Monday evening, and by then they were usually gone, leaving me with one of the many housekeepers we've had over the years. Father had to go on business trips, or to his family in Marshes, a small, secluded village by the sea. My mother always went with Father. I never did.

When I started college, I asked Mother if I could spend some of the weeknights at Double H and she'd agreed, reluctantly. Since then, months could pass and I didn't see or hear from them. Maybe I should have resented that, but I’d given up on them a long time ago, and the thought of having any kind of relationship seemed preposterous. I mostly felt relief.

I declined to look at my mother's mangled body, and since my father had identified her already, there was no need. Then there had been arrangements to make, details to handle, people to deal with. I'd done it all, calmly and efficiently, and they'd told me how strong I was, how brave. I hadn't felt brave. I hadn't felt anything. It was as if it was a dream, all of it, and when I lay in bed at night, I tried to pretend that it was.

Father had disappeared, but when I walked into the dining room to have breakfast just hours before the funeral, he was there. One look on his face told me that he didn't want to talk, so I didn't. In a weird way, it felt good to see his grief for Mother, since I felt very little myself.

Now we were in separate cars, on our way to the lawyers' office, to hear both Willy's and Mother's last wills. What was in Mother's I didn't know, and I didn't care. I expected her to pass everything she owned to Father and that was all right with me. I knew exactly what Willy's will would say. We'd talked about it several times over the years, and he'd explained what he'd do and why.

Mickey waited on the curb when I got to the offices of Brentford-Suthermoore Attorneys at Law, and when I saw the warm compassion in his eyes, I clenched my jaws. To my horror, I felt how my eyes started to sting, and I breathed slowly through my nose. God, I thought, not now. I couldn't allow myself to feel anything, not just yet. I really didn't want to have a meltdown outside an office building in downtown Prosper.

“Do you think Willy picked them because of the name?” Mickey asked lazily, and added, “Would have been just like the old coot.”

“What?” I breathed.

“Yeah, but Wilder, think about it. BS Attorneys at Law?”

A startled giggle bubbled up my throat, pushing back the tears that had threatened to spill over. As we walked into the building, I took hold of his hand and held it in a firm grip. I'd forgotten that I still had a safe place. Mickey and his parents would still be there for me. Andrew Farnham, Uncle Andy, was the foreman on Double H and his wife Gwendolyn ran the kitchens. I'd grown up with them around me, and they were in so many ways my family too.

Gramps' attorney was an elderly gentleman with dark skin and sharp eyes who introduced himself as Douglas Suthermoore Senior. Without further small talk, he moved us gently in front of him into a large conference room. Father was already there, sitting stiffly at one end of the long, oval table, glaring at Uncle Andy who sat at the other end with a small, relaxed smile on his lips.

“We have a minor problem,” Mr. Suthermoore Sr. started, and made a pause, shuffling a bunch of papers around in front of him. “Mrs. Fratinelli's will is in perfect order, and there are no questions around that,” he stated, gave me a small embarrassed smile, and continued, “It's short and quite simple. She passes all her belongings on to her husband, Paolo Fratinelli.”

I heard Uncle Andy make a small annoyed sound, so I slowly moved my foot to nudge his shin gently.

“I am aware that this would have been my mother's wish, and I will not contest her will in any way,” I said calmly.

Mr. Suthermoore Sr. straightened a little and I could see a faint flicker of annoyance pass over his face before he continued, “Very well. It is most unusual, and considering the magnitude of her estate -”

“I will not contest her will in any way,” I repeated forcefully, interrupting him rather rudely. I didn't look at my father, and he didn't say anything although I could hear him move slightly.

“Very well,” the attorney repeated. “The problem at hand is with Mr. Callaghan's last wishes. Willy made a...” He trailed off, moved a hand over his brow slowly and then he cleared his throat loudly. I realized that he was Gramps' age, and I wondered how close they had been. I'd never met him, but then again, I hadn't met many of Gramps' friends. A few had visited Double H, but mostly it had been just him and me.

“Mr. Callaghan made a stipulation in his will and neither of us took precautions for a situation where he and his daughter died at the same time. I'm afraid that the thought never occurred -”

“What stipulation?” Father asked. He sounded almost angry, and I turned to look at him.

My father had always been a stranger. He rarely said more than one word at the time to me, and it was usually a curt command. The rare weeks he was at home he ate dinner alone and spent the evenings in his office. Mother was always nervous, and she used to flutter around, whispering to me to be quiet and not disturb him. It had always felt as if she was afraid, but I'd never understood why. Father had never been anything but sweet and gentle toward her, and the love he felt for her was evident.

Paolo Fratinelli was a handsome man, wearing his age well. He was tall, heavily built and had thick white hair that he kept short, and immaculately groomed in an elegant backswept style. It looked like he used products on it, and I'd heard the hairdryer from their rooms many times, so I was fairly sure he did. I'd always found this vanity slightly ridiculous, but I'd never told anyone. He tanned easily, and his pale, icy blue eyes were piercing over a long, sharp nose. I looked nothing like him, except that I had the same white hair.

“I have written statements from the police and from the hospital that Mr. Callaghan passed away just before his daughter, so she should inherit him as per his wishes. The problem is that he made a request which Mrs. Fratinelli had to fulfill to claim her inheritance,” the attorney replied, and I jerked around to look at him. This was news to me.

“What happens if this request isn't fulfilled?” Uncle Andy asked slowly.

“I've consulted with my partners, and the only interpretation that can be made is the same as if she refused to fulfill the request,” Mr. Suthermoore Sr. replied. “Miss Fratinelli-Callaghan will inherit his full estate then,” he added.

“What?” Paolo barked, and the word echoed in the big room.

“Can someone else fulfill the request?” I asked quickly.

I didn't want to battle this out in court, and I knew that my father would take me there. My mother's money would not be enough, not when Gramps' estate was so much bigger, and that I'd be the one to inherit would anger him. Willy and I had talked about this, so I knew what would happen, and how ugly it would be.

“Wilder,” Uncle Andrew said warningly, but I continued speaking.

“I want Grandfather's wishes to be honored if it's possible.”

“It's somewhat irregular, but we could, of course, draw up papers where you state that you waive any claim to further inheritance than your Grandfather wished and that you accept the fulfillment of the request from Mr. Paolo Fratinelli instead,” Mr. Suthermoore Sr. said calmly, and our eyes met.

I realized that the old attorney also knew what would be in store for me if we didn't solve this. I nodded, once, and Mr. Suthermoore got to his feet.

“This should not take long. I will organize refreshments,” he said and walked away.

We didn't speak as we waited and no one touched the tea and cookies a pretty, dark-skinned girl brought for us. I got even more convinced that Mr. Suthermoore Sr. had prepared for this when he returned not more than ten minutes later with papers that he put in front of me. I skimmed through the text, and signed them quickly.

“There, done,” I said brusquely as I pushed the papers toward the attorney.

“Very well,” he stated in a voice slightly tinged with relief, and then he looked directly at me. “I can read the will out loud, and you will get a copy of it, of course, but it's quite long and full of legal terms. Perhaps you'd like me to give you a summary instead?”

“Yes, please,” I replied.

“Mr. Callaghan wished for you, his beloved granddaughter, to have the Double H ranch, including the land and everything on it, as well as the company associated with running the ranch. He also left you a house located in the mountains, in the village called Norton.” Then he pushed a small box toward me.

“All you need is in there.”

I nodded slowly. The ranch I'd known Gramps planned to leave to me, but the house in the mountains was news. We'd been skiing as often as we could in the winter, but we'd always stayed at one of the bigger resorts on the side of the mountains open to tourism. I wondered why we'd never gone to this house.

“Mr. Fratinelli,” the attorney continued, interrupting my thoughts. “With a few exceptions that I'm sure you'd consider minor, Mr. Callaghan wanted his daughter to inherit everything else, which she did upon his death. This means that as per your wife's last wishes, the main part of Mr. Callaghan's estate is about to become yours. As you know, this includes considerable parts of several companies, some of which you manage already. There are also various funds, as well as his priceless art collections. I have all details documented for your -”

“What are the exceptions?” Father interrupted tersely.

“Two plots of land adjoining the Double H ranch that he bestowed upon Mr. Andrew Farnham and Mr. Michael Farnham, and monetary settlements on some of the people working for him. The value amounts to less than one percent of his total estate,” Mr. Suthermoore Sr. replied promptly as if he'd expected the question.

“The request?” Father asked after a short silence.

“Yes, of course. Mr. Callaghan wanted his daughter to tell Wilder the truth.”

“Finally,” Uncle Andy murmured.

I turned to stare at him, then at my father, who looked grim, and then back at the attorney.

“Fine,” I heard my father snap, and I turned back to look at him. “It doesn't matter anymore, and if it had been up to me we'd have told you a long time ago,” he said sourly.

“Told me what, Father?” I asked, completely bewildered.

“Oh, but I'm not your father,” he replied instantly, and I blinked.

“Wh-”

“You were an unfortunate mistake in your mother's youth before she met me. I am not your father,” he interrupted.

His voice was full of calm superiority, and I stared at him as he leaned back. To my surprise, the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkled a little, as if he enjoyed the situation.

“It can't come as a surprise that I don't like you very much, Wilder. Now you know why,” he said calmly.

“You are a complete shithead,” Mickey growled suddenly, ignoring his father's quiet voice telling him to calm down.

“If you say so,” Paolo murmured with a small smile playing on his lips.

I couldn’t stop staring at him, wondering if I was dreaming.

“An asshat,” Mickey hissed then, as he leaned forward over the table. Then he pulled in a deep breath. “No. You are a dick faced shitgibbon of a fucknugget,” he finished loudly and succinctly.

I suddenly had to suppress an inappropriate desire to giggle. Where the heck did Mickey come up with these things?

“I compliment you on your choice of friends, Wilder,” Paolo said coolly, and without waiting for a reply he continued, “He'll fit in well with your father and his crowd.”

“What?” I gasped. I had another father, one that I'd never heard anything about, and Paolo knew him?

“Go to that little dinky town in the mountains and walk into a sleazy joint called Johns. You'll find him there with a beer in his hand, I'm sure.”

There was a strange buzzing in my ears, and the room seemed to narrow in on me until all I could see was the pale blue eyes in the face of a man I'd spent my whole life trying, and failing, to please. Suddenly it was all too much, and a wave of confusion and grief hit me so hard my chest felt like it would explode. I couldn't stay, couldn't deal with it all, so I grabbed the small box from the table, got to my feet and started walking toward the door.

“Wilder,” Uncle Andy murmured at my side.

“I can't deal with all of this now, Uncle Andy,” I whispered. “Please, I need to go. Can you deal with...” I waved my hand toward Paolo Fratinelli as I trailed off and walked away without looking at the man that I for almost twenty years had thought was my father.

“Mickey, go with her, you drive,” Uncle Andy barked behind me, but I ignored him.

When I got out on the street, I stopped abruptly and pulled out my sunglasses. The bright sunlight hurt my eyes, and I wasn't sure what I wanted to do, or where I wanted to go.

“Come, we'll take my car,” Mickey murmured at my side as he slung an arm around my shoulders, pushing me gently toward the old, beat up piece of junk he drove.

“Where do you want to go?” he asked as we wound our way out of the city.

I stared straight ahead, pressed the small box against my chest and focused on pushing air in and out of my lungs. My mind was still spinning and what I mostly wanted to do was scream, but I held it together.

“Norton,” I replied hoarsely.

Chapter Two

Hawker

“Stop!”

“Shit! What?”

Mickey hit the brakes hard as he continued cursing. We'd been in the car for a few hours, but I'd turned up the volume until music blasted loud enough to prevent conversation, so we'd said absolutely nothing. Mickey knew me well, and one look on my face had told him that I needed to stew on things for a while, so he'd let me do just that. He had been bopping his head slightly to the rhythm of the music, clearly deep in his own thoughts, and he’d not been prepared for my shout.

I pointed to the line of houses on our right side and he turned off the highway.

By the time we approached Treville I had finally calmed down a bit, so I'd lowered my gaze to look at the box Mr. Suthermoore Sr. had given me. That's when I noticed my funeral dress with its soft layers of white lace. This spiked my anger again, and my grief, and I wanted desperately to get out of the awful attire.

“I'm not walking around in this getup, so you need to get in there and find me something to wear that doesn't make me look like a friggin' wraith,” I growled, pointing to a surprisingly large store.

The sign above the door said “Bozo’s,” which made me think that my outfit would likely be more clown and less fashionista, but anything would be better than what I had on, so I didn't care. To be honest, I wouldn't have cared any other day either. Jeans and a tank top were my usual choice, and since Bozo seemed to be favoring the biker lifestyle, I figured there would be jeans in his, or her, store.

Mickey stared at me with a whisper of a smile lurking in his eyes.

“You want clothes from a store called Bozo's, and you want me to buy them?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think that’s wise?” he asked, and I could see that he struggled to hold back laughter.

“Mickey, please...” I whispered, and waved my hand to indicate the dress.

“Gotcha,” he snorted as he unfolded his massive frame from the small car.

He came back quickly, tossed a bag in the back seat and drove off.

“Hey! I want to change,” I exclaimed.

“That was a biker store, sweetie,” was his strange reply.

“Yeah, I got that,” I replied.

“For men.”

“What?”

“Really, really big men, Wilder. There wasn't much of a selection in the smallest sizes,” he said, and his face was serious, but I could clearly see a familiar glint in his eyes and I started to worry.

“Stop the car and show me what you got.”

He ignored my order, muttered, “Yeah, in a while,” and kept driving. We passed quickly through the lower parts of the mountains until we'd reached the junction where we'd leave the highway leading up to the ski areas, and then he turned onto the smaller road that would take us through the back country toward Norton.

I wondered what it would be like, the house Willy left me, the village around it, and the people there. Norton wasn't a place anyone ever went to, or at least not anyone I knew. It wasn't forbidden to go to Norton, of course. The main issue was that it was far away from the major cities and there was nowhere to stay up there. All houses were owned by locals. They didn't rent to strangers, or anyone really, and they didn't sell their houses either. Getting a house in the village was through inheritance only, and I had no clue how Gramps had gotten his hands on one. I didn't think he had relatives in that part of our country, though when I thought about it, I didn't know.

The skiing was rumored to be fantastic on that side of the mountain. There were few lifts, however, and the passes to them were for locals only, so if you went there for the day, you'd have to walk up the mountain. Some hardcore skiers did, and it was considered something to brag about on the after ski at the resort Gramps and I had stayed at. We usually randonnéed several times each winter, but it wasn't my favorite activity, so I'd never asked Willy if we could go to Norton. I wondered why he'd never taken me to his house, or mentioned it, at least.

“Okay, Wilder, so... you can't get mad,” Mickey said, and I jerked.

I'd been so deep in my thoughts that I hadn't noticed how he'd turned off the road and into a parking area overlooking the vast open plains and the lower parts of the mountains.

“What have you done?” I asked slowly.

“I did the best I could, but they really - and I do mean really - didn't have many options for someone your size,” he replied.

“Shit,” I murmured, grabbed the bag from the back seat and got out of the car.

Leather pants. My stupid, idiot friend had bought me a pair of leather pants.

“They have these things on the sides so you can adjust the size,” I heard Mickey say.

There was laughter in his voice, although he tried valiantly to hide it. I didn't say anything and turned my eyes back to the pants. They did indeed have leather strappings crisscrossing the outer sides from the waist and all the way down the legs. Beneath the leather straps, there was... nothing. I glared at Mickey.

“You do realize that these are supposed to be worn with jeans underneath, right?”

“Did the best I could,” was his reply.

I reached into the bag again, hoping that whatever else he bought would be enormous and long enough to cover the pants. Then I growled.

“A vest?” I glared at him and shouted, “You idiot! How about a plaid shirt? Or a t-shirt? Something normal?”

“Wilder, really. They were huge. Like super huge. No, bigger than huge actually. Ginormous. Like tents. Or -”

“A leather vest, Mickey? Really? And what am I supposed to wear underneath?”

“You always have cute underwear, sweetie, and besides, it'll be tight. I figured it would be like a tank top, more or less,” he chuckled.

I glared at him, stomped a few steps away to toss the bag on a wooden picnic table, and started to pull off my white dress. He was right, I did have nice underwear. My secret rebellion on this god-awful day had been to wear boy briefs made entirely out of black lace, and a matching bra. Standing there in my skimpy underwear I realized that the panties would be clearly visible in the gaps on the sides of the pants.

“Do you seriously expect me to go commando?” I growled at Mickey as he came up behind me.

“Did the best I could,” he replied. “Don't worry, it'll be sexy with lace peeking through. You'll have all the biker dudes drooling as you prance around in those pants. It would have looked better with strappy sandals, or any kind of high heels, and Bozo had a very nice selection, though only in my size, or bigger.”

“Oh, God. Could you be a little less gay every now and then?” I asked, but I did it laughing. The thought of Mickey in strappy sandals was too funny. Gay or not, he was a jeans and t-shirt person, just like me.

“I've told you a million times, Wilder. I'm not gay,” he said patiently, and he had indeed done that. I just didn't believe him, and I wondered why he still insisted he wasn't when I'd explained to him just as many times that to me, love was love, and I didn't care what way he swung. I'd also never seen him with any of the girls that fawned over him, and they were many. I had however seen him in a tight clinch with a boy a few years back, although I'd never told him that.

“Whatever,” I murmured, too busy tightening the leather straps to get into that particular argument, again. “There,” I added as I straightened. “How do I look?”

“You look hot, Wilder,” he replied promptly.

Okay, I thought, maybe it wasn’t as bad as I’d feared. Then Mickey started laughing.

“What?”

“Bozo had whips, and I thought they were for herding cattle, but looking at you, I’m thinking that I was wrong about that.”

“Crap,” I murmured

He just grinned widely, “Just joking, Wilder. It’s a small town in the mountains, no one will care. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Hmpf,” I grunted, hoping that he was right.

I'd strapped the pants on as tightly as I could, and the gap on the sides was only about an inch wide, so I'd figured it wasn't too visible. The vest was tight, and I'd buttoned it up so it would cover at least part of my chest, though the lacy bra could probably be seen if I moved my arms. Oh well, I thought. I'd just have to keep my arms to my sides and they'd surely have another store in Norton, or perhaps Willy had some clothes that I could use in the house. My grandfather hadn't been a big man and I'd always loved to wear his flannel shirts.

The thought of Willy made my throat constrict, and the weight on my chest was back again.

“Let's move,” I said tersely.

“Are you okay?” Mickey asked gently.

“Not really,” I whispered. “But I will be. We'll go to Norton, take a quick look at the assclown supposed to be my father, and then move on to Willy's house. Once we find it, we'll drink all the expensive whiskey I'm sure he kept there. Tomorrow we'll see if we can ski. After that, life moves on. It has to, hasn't it?”

“You don't want to talk to your father? Ask him -”

“Absolutely not,” I interrupted. “He's nothing to me. I want to see him, see if he really exists, but then we'll leave. I don't look like Mother at all, so he won't recognize me, and we'll just go to that bar, hang for a while, and then leave.”

“But Wilder...”

“No. Don't, Mickey, please. Let's just get this done?”

I was pleading, but the anger and hurt simmering in my chest could be heard in my voice, and he knew me well enough to recognize that the best thing would be to give in. So we got back into the car and followed the winding road up through the mountain until we finally drove into Norton.

Mickey slowed down, and I looked around as we crept along the main street. It was a really cute little village with well-kept houses and stores lining both sides of the road. It seemed like I'd have a variety of choices in Norton when it came to replacing Bozo's leather gear. Between two huge windows showing off tees and jeans of all kinds, as well as some really fabulous shoes, there was also a coffee shop with large plush couches and armchairs. It looked like a place I could spend hours in. A couple of restaurants were open, and the snow was cleared away. People were strolling along the sidewalk, even though most of the stores were starting to close up for the day. There seemed to be residential areas on our right, sprawling out from the main street, and to our left, the mountains rose sharply behind the houses.

Then we reached a square and Mickey slowed down even further until we barely moved. Two ski lifts went up on the mountainsides, so sharply it looked like they were almost vertical. They disappeared around ridges, and I wondered how far up into the mountains they reached.

“Look at that,” I breathed with awe.

“Yeah...” Mickey replied, sounding less excited. He liked skiing and was good at it, but he preferred the groomed slopes and rarely followed Willy and me when we went out of bounds.

“Tomorrow we'll see if ski passes come with the cabin, or if we have to walk,” I said determinedly.

“Either there are passes or you walk, you mean?”

I turned to him, grinning, knowing well that he'd be right there with me, grumbling and whining all the way to the top, but still following me each step I took, just like I went swimming with him in the summers, even though I didn’t like it all that much.

As I turned, my eyes locked on a low building to the side of the lifts. The house was somewhat anonymous, looking like a warehouse or storage building. Over the door, there was a black sign with one single word in neon orange.

Johns.

“Look,” I whispered.

“Fantastic. I need to pee,” Mickey replied cheerfully and turned around to park outside the building, next to a long line of motorcycles.

I turned to stare at him.

“I am about to get a first, and last, look at the fat, drunken loser that's supposed to be my father, and that's all you have to say?” I asked sarcastically.

“Yup,” he grinned, unbuckled and folded out of the car. “Come on Wilder, let's get in there, pee, and then we can leave again.”

He was clearly trying his best to make this easy for me, although he'd been slugging down soda all the way from Bozo's so he was probably not lying about needing to use the facilities. I took a deep breath, pulled at the ridiculous vest, and adjusted my sunglasses. Then I opened the door and walked into what looked like a roadside joint. Inside, the light was dim, but it wasn't dark, so I figured I'd leave the sunglasses on for a while, not wanting my eyes to attract the attention they usually did. We walked straight up to the bar and then I turned.

“You'll be okay for a while, sweetie?” Mickey rumbled. “Pee,” he added unnecessarily.

I nodded but continued to scan the crowd, trying to figure out if any of them could possibly be my father.

There were perhaps twenty people in the bar. Mostly men, and all in some kind of biker outfit. Jeans, long sleeved tees, and leather vests seemed to be the uniform, but a few had leather pants. Most had black semi-long hair although some were more gray than black. Facial hair of some sort was common, and it was mostly neatly trimmed goatees, but I spotted a few full beards.

Every one of them stared at me, which was hardly surprising. It was probably not an everyday occurrence for someone like me to walk in, with my leather bitch outfit, long curly white hair and mirror sunglasses. I kept my cool and stared back at them, refusing to let my nervousness shine through. Suddenly, I was grateful for the clothes Mickey had gotten. They would have stared at me regardless, and it would have been worse to walk in there in jeans and a tee, or that horrible white dress. The leather felt almost like a shield.

“Hey there, little girl. Looking for some fun?”

A man, probably twenty years my senior, got to his feet and walked toward me. He was tall, wiry, and looked like he hadn't showered in a week. He was also slightly unsteady on his feet.

Jeez, I thought. It was early evening still, and I wondered at what time people started drinking in this place. I didn't mind having a couple of beers, even though, strictly speaking, it wasn't legal. I did mind spending time around people who were drunk, though, mainly because someone usually started to touch my hair or comment on my eyes, and it was always a struggle to get them to stop. I wasn’t too happy about using my fighting skills on someone who was inebriated, but I did when I had to.

“Not really,” I answered the man blandly.

Then a thought struck me. This man could actually be my father. There was no resemblance between us, but he was the right age, more or less. I turned away slightly, hoping that this would discourage him.

It didn't.

“Bet I could change your mind,” he murmured.

His voice had deepened into a hoarse, lazy rumble that I supposed he thought was sexy. I thought it sounded ridiculous.

“No,” I said.

He grinned, and slid his hand slowly up my side, fingering the opening between the leather straps in my pants.

“Yeah?” he murmured as he leaned into my side, letting his hand glide up over my chin.

I grabbed his hand quickly and twisted it around in a backward angle that wouldn't injure him, although it would hurt.

“I don't want to fight you. Walk away, and there will be no harm done,” I said.

My voice was loud and crystal clear, cutting through the soft music and all conversation stilled. I heard a few men chuckle, and so did my admirer as he twisted his hand out of my grip.

“Walking in here looking like you do? You're practically begging for someone to give you a good ride, little girl,” he said confidently.

I saw Mickey approach from the side, but he was grinning. He stopped a few steps away, knowing well that if things got ugly, then I'd be more dangerous than him, in spite of my much smaller size.

I backed away from the man and raised my hands, palms toward him.

“I'm not looking for trouble, and I'm not looking for fun. My friend needed to use the facilities, and we'd like to get something to drink. Then we'll leave. Okay?”

“Let me keep you company while you drink? Then maybe you'll stay a little longer,” the man countered.

I just stared at him, thinking that he must surely be dumb as a brick, or perhaps more drunk than I'd imagined. Unfortunately, the man seemed to take my silence as agreement and stepped forward suddenly, reaching out quickly to grab my arm. I twisted away, which turned out to be a stupid thing to do because instead of catching my arm he got hold of my breast.

He chuckled, and I felt his fingers move around me as his grip hardened. I was still not sure if this would turn out to be the man who fathered me, but if it were, then I’d surely throw up.

When his thumb slipped in under the leather vest to stroke me, my temper ignited. No always meant no, regardless of who he was, my stupid clothes and the location I was in.

I raised my left hand, cocked my elbow and punched him swiftly, straight in the face. It made him stumble backward at first but he turned out to be persistent, or maybe I hadn’t put enough power behind my punch because he moved toward me again, so I struck again, slightly harder this time.

“I said no,” I said, calmly but loudly.

Then I took hold of one of his hands and twisted him around until I was behind him. I heard people move around me and sensed rather than saw how Mickey stepped beside us, stopping anyone else from getting involved. The man I was holding grunted and tried to get loose, so I reached around him and grabbed his big belt buckle, leaned backward and took him with me until his feet left the floor. Then I turned slightly and used my hip to twist him sideward so I could push him down on the floor, with me on top. I put a knee in the small of his back and held a hand firmly on his neck.

“I guess you get my point now?” I asked calmly.

I got no reply except a muffled grunt, so I shook his head a little. The bar was suddenly eerily silent, and I stiffened, wondering what was going on but not daring to shift my eyes from the man beneath me.

“Let him go, Wilder,” a deep, gravelly voice rumbled.

Slowly, I turned my head to the side and realized immediately that I had been so very wrong. My father was not a fat loser of a drunk sitting in a corner drinking cheap whiskey.

My father was a tall, scary man with long, pitch black hair and tattoos slithering down his arms from under a tight t-shirt that showed off a lean muscular body. I realized another mistake I'd made. I'd thought that he wouldn't know who I was since I didn't look at all like my mother, but the man in front of me would recognize me anywhere because, except for the color of our hair, I looked just like him. It was like looking at a weird mirror where my face stared back at me from a man much older than me. He seemed calm, unnervingly so, but the two men at his sides were scowling angrily. At me? Or at the drunken man on the floor?

“I'll deal with Doug. Let him go now,” he ordered calmly.

“Shit,” the man beneath me whispered. “You're Wilder?”

“Shut up, Doug,” one of the two men flanking my father said quietly.

Slowly, I let go of the man, and he scrambled to his feet quickly, cowering as he approached the three men standing side by side, hands on their hips.

“I'm sorry, had no clue, wouldn't have -”

My father's eyes flicked to the side, one eyebrow went up slightly, but then he looked back at me. This was clearly an order because one of the men immediately moved over, grabbed Doug's arm and led him away.

“Willy's gone then?”

At first, I was surprised by the question, but then I understood. Willy had known this man. And he'd known him well enough to share the contents of his will, had told him that I'd know the truth once he was gone.

“Yeah,” I whispered hoarsely.

“Do you know who I am?”

I stared at him. Did he think I was stupid? Slowly, I pulled off my sunglasses and stretched them out in the general direction of where I thought Mickey would be. He took them, and when he did, he squeezed my hand a little. This calmed me down, and I raised my chin, holding my father's eyes. Eyes that were the same freakishly yellow color as my own.

“I buried my grandfather and my mother this morning. Then I went to the attorney's office and heard how Paolo Fratinelli became the owner of everything except our ranch and a small house in this village. Next thing, Paolo told me that he isn't my father and that I should go to this place to find the man who was. So yeah... It's been one of the worst days of my life. But I know who you are,” I said, slowly and succinctly.

“Carrie's gone too?” he asked, looking surprised but I could see a fleeting moment of sadness wash over his features.

“Carrie?” I asked. Then I got it, and with a small, tense smile I continued, “Yes. Caroline Fratinelli is gone too. I have no family left.”

My mother had never been called Carrie in her whole life, or so I'd thought. Although this man didn't look like he'd hook up with someone called Caroline, so maybe I was wrong. Maybe she'd been a Carrie with this man. I wondered what had happened.

“Yeah, you do. You have family here,” one of the men flanking my father murmured.

I turned to him and realized that he looked a lot like me too, and was about the same age as my father, so maybe I suddenly had an uncle? It didn't matter, though. None of them had cared much about me so far, so why would they start now? I didn't want anything to do with them.

“No. I do not have family here. I've seen you. You've seen me. Now I'm walking away.”

And I did. I'd turned and started walking toward the door with Mickey at my back when a voice echoed through the silent room.

“I know Willy was everything to you, and I get that today was difficult, so I'll let that comment slide. Won't do that next time, Wilder,” my father called out to me, and I thought it sounded like he was warning me not to annoy him.

I turned slowly, and our eyes met again. I'd spent my whole life trying to behave in a way that would make the man I thought was my father love me, or at least not dislike me so much. That wasn't a road I intended to go down again. This man wasn't at all what I expected, but it also didn't feel like he was my father, so I had absolutely no reason to please him.

“I don't even know your name,” I heard myself whisper.

To my horror, my voice sounded small, and a little sad, so I turned and moved quickly toward the door. When I stretched my hand out to push it open someone came in from the outside, and I automatically stopped. Then I stared.

Walking through the door was the most beautiful man I'd ever seen. He was tall and built in the same wiry way as my father. His black, thick hair was curly and pulled back in a short ponytail at the nape of his neck, which showed off a lean face and cut cheekbones. He seemed to be a few years older than me, and he was the only one in the bar, except my father, without any kind of facial hair. Then his eyes turned toward me, and I felt my brows go up in surprise. They were a dark green, so deep it felt like I could drown in them. Something warm started to form in my belly, sliding deeper into the core of me, and as our gazes held I sensed that his mood was somehow changing.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he murmured, and his voice slid over me like a warm, soft blanket, cocooning me in a mist of affection.

“Hey,” I said, and to my embarrassment, my voice sounded oddly breathy.

“Shit,” I heard someone say behind my back. “There he goes again. Mackenzie, don't, she's -”

“You have the prettiest hair,” the beautiful man crooned softly, ignoring everyone else.

Then he grinned a cheeky, confident grin. It made him even more beautiful, but suddenly I got a strange feeling that it was all fake, and behind it, there was an ocean of loneliness and grief. I held his gaze thinking that I would have wanted to get to know the man behind the phony facade he put up. The shiny, charming surface he showed me? Not interesting at all.

He moved a little like he was about to turn back toward the door, and it felt almost as if he expected me to follow him without questions. This didn't sit well with me, so I straightened my back.

“Thanks, sugar,” I started sweetly, without moving. “You have gorgeous eyes,” I added with a smile.

“Tha -”

“Are you seeing someone?” I asked, interrupting him.

“What?”

He seemed stunned, and behind me the silence was thick.

“Oh, I'm sorry. I don't mean to pry, but I have this friend. He's single, and I think he would love to meet you,” I continued.

The silence became deafening. It felt like all air stopped moving and I frowned.

“You think I'm gay?” he asked slowly, clearly confused.

“Well, yes. A pretty man like you would be. Aren't you?” I asked, pretending to be thoroughly surprised. There was no doubt in my mind that this man was so far from gay he might as well be of a different species than the rest of us. A species called testosteronus sapiens.

Then I looked at Mickey, who was grinning so broadly it looked like his face would split, winked and jerked my head toward the door. I turned back to the man blocking the door, only to find him staring at me, looking shell-shocked.

“I'm sorry, but we need to leave,” I said calmly and gave him a gentle nudge with my elbow to push him out of the way as we walked out into the quiet evening.

When we reached the car, Mickey couldn't be quiet anymore. He slung an arm over my shoulder and chuckled, pulling me into his arms.

“You were awesome, honey,” he whispered into my hair.

Then Mickey tensed, and his head went up. I turned in his arms and leaned back into his embrace, and watched my father stride over the parking lot. He was alone, and the door to the bar was closed.

He stopped just in front of us, put his hands on his hips and watched our relaxed stance and the obvious affection between us.

“I'm Hawker,” he rumbled after a long while. “Hawker Johns.”

I still said nothing but Mickey apparently felt that he'd been left out of the action, so he stretched his hand out.

“I'm Michael, Wilder's -”

“I know who you are, Mickey. Know your father,” Hawker rumbled.

“You know Uncle Andy?” I asked, but then I suddenly remembered the attorney's office.

When Mr. Suthermoore had said that I should know the truth, then Uncle Andy had immediately murmured the word “finally.”

“Uncle Andy? Jesus…” Hawker muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing. I know him as Rider, though.”

I stared at him and tried to picture Uncle Andy with his calm ways and easy humor, together with this hard man. I couldn't.

“I get that you're pissed at me, Wilder. Can't blame you, but there's a lot you don't know -” Hawker started.

“Do I have any siblings?” I interrupted quietly, and he jerked.

“No. I only have one child.”

The way he said it, I sensed pain behind the simple words. I hadn't wanted anything to do with this man, but it somehow felt as if I owed him to listen to his side of the story. Maybe that would also give me some clues to why Willy had kept all of this hidden from me, I thought. Suddenly I missed my grandfather so much, and the hurt grew in my chest until I thought I'd start bawling then and there.

“Okay,” I whispered.

I sounded hoarse, and Mickey wrapped his arms tighter around me, sensing that I was about to lose it.

“I'm not so sure I want the family I apparently have here, but when all of this has sunk in, perhaps we could talk? Just you and I?” I asked.

As I watched, his face relaxed, and I realized that this was important to him.

“Yeah,” he mumbled.

“Okay,” I said.

“Fantastic,” Mickey interrupted. “That's for another day, though. Now we need to get some food, find Willy's cabin, and then we'll see if the old coot left any whiskey for us.”

I turned my head to glare at him, grateful that he got us out of a situation that had escalated into something I wasn't prepared to deal with. I did however not think it was a great idea to make my newly found father - who actually was more than a little bit scary - think we were a couple of drunken fools.

“Follow the road north, turn left where there's a sign that says “Callaghan,” and you'll find the house. There's a store two blocks up the road, but I'll call and have them send someone out with supplies for you.”

When we turned toward Hawker he’d already started to walk back toward the bar, but over his shoulder he tossed, “You'll find whiskey on the kitchen counter, but the good stuff is in the corner cabinet by the couch, top shelf.”

As we stared at him with open mouths, he walked into the bar without looking back, and the door slammed shut behind him.

Chapter Three

A lot of snow and a dead man

I spent the morning looking at a pile of maps we'd found on the kitchen table, and there were routes and slopes marked out all over the mountain. It hurt to realize that Willy had skied these mountains without me over the years, and I cried helplessly as I sat there with my darling grandfather's notes in front of me. The past week had been a blur of activities, but that morning I started to let myself accept that Willy was gone and grief washed over me in huge painful waves.

When I heard Mickey getting up, I tried valiantly to calm down, dried my tears and started making breakfast. He saw immediately that I'd been crying, of course, so he pulled me into a tight embrace and held me there for a long time. I cried even more then, knowing I was safe to let go as he held me up.

Finally, Mickey wiped away my tears with his big hands and cupped my cheeks.

“You can only move forward, Wilder,” he whispered, using words Gramps had said to me many times over the years.

“Yeah,” I whispered. “Hurts, though.”

“It'll pass sweetie,” he murmured into my hair.

We stood there a while longer until my breath came easier, and then we had breakfast. It tasted like dry hay, but I forced myself to eat because I wanted to find out if we could ski. If we could, I'd need the energy.

Except for the skis, Mickey kept his gear in the trunk of his car all winter season, and I figured I could borrow something from Willy. His boots would be too big, but they'd do for a short run down a simple slope. There was a second, smaller, door next to the main entrance and when we opened it I gasped. My skis and boots stood neatly along one side, and a few bags that I recognized as mine were piled up in a corner. I'd always thought we stored our gear at the resort, but Willy had apparently kept it here. We adjusted the longest pair of skis we could find to fit Mickey's boots, and they were ridiculously short for him, but they’d do.

I had no clue if we'd be allowed on the lift, but I figured it was worth a try at least, and otherwise we could always drive over the mountain on the small back roads and go for a few runs on that side. It'd take us a while to get over to the resorts, but it'd at least be something to do. I had time off from school to deal with the death of my mother and grandfather, and needed to fill the next few days with something.

It turned out that not only did they allow us access to the mountain. They actually expected us. As we parked the car, I heard how they started up the lift and when we approached they took one look at the skis Mickey was carrying. Then they started laughing.

“Hey there,” one of the men called out as the other one walked away only to return immediately with a pair of skis for Mickey.

“Hawker said to be prepared in case you were crazy enough to try skiing in Willy's gear,” the man said as he put the skis on a table and pulled out a screwdriver from underneath, and turned to me. “It's been coming down heavily in the last weeks, so there will be plenty of snow. You can ski practically anywhere you want.”

I smiled at the man, and we chatted as we got into our boots and moved over to the lift. They warned us that the last few days had been warm so the snow would be heavier than usual, making the skiing a bit more difficult. Mickey's face darkened, and he tried to convince both the men and me that it would be dangerous, but we just laughed at him.

“We watch out for danger all the time, boy, and blow any risk away as soon as we see it,” one of the men assured us.

The lift creaked a little as it swung us out from the base and started to bring us up the mountain. The dark blue sky was completely clear, and the winds from the evening before had calmed down to a light breeze that brushed gently through the pine and aspen we passed through. I leaned my head back to listen to the sounds of silence, and a deep sense of peace washed over me. I loved Double H and the people there, and I enjoyed the energy in downtown Prosper, but nothing compared to how I felt when I got up in the mountains.

We passed a few places where we could get off but each time I shook my head at Mickey's silent question, and then we reached the end of the lift. The view was amazing, and we stood there for a while, taking it all in. It was possible to walk even higher up in the mountains, and I could see tracks where others had done so, but we were high enough. I stretched my arm out and pointed to the different ridges I'd decided upon as I watched the maps that morning. It was a route Willy hadn't marked, and I'd decided that we'd go on his routes some other time. Today, I wanted to go on a path where I wouldn't wonder all the time how he'd felt when he'd been there.

The snow was heavy, creaking slightly with every turn we made, and the ravine I took us through was steeper than I expected, so it didn't take long until we were breathing heavily. I stopped and turned to watch Mickey coming down the mountain, ready to suggest that we'd move back towards the lift to find easier ground.

As I watched, the snow cracked in a long line below and around his skis, breaking into large chunks that started to roll in front of him and toward me. My gut fell, and I started waving my hands, pointing to the side. He understood immediately and went down with it just a little bit to catch speed before he turned sharply to the veer away, moving upward as best he could. An avalanche was starting right underneath him, and getting to the side and above the line where the snow broke would be his best bet, something we'd both had drilled into us since we started skiing outside the prepared slopes.

Masses of snow started rolling straight toward me, building quickly in size and speed. I couldn't do anything for Mickey, so I turned my skis and kicked off, trying to get myself out of the way. Mickey had been higher up where the ravine was wider, so I hoped that he'd been able to get to the side and that he hadn't been pulled along with the snow. He was much heavier than me so if he got caught he'd sink deeper in the wave of snow and likely not make it.

I was lower down, there was no room to the sides, and as I swung my head around, I saw that the snow now filled the whole ravine. It came toward me too quickly, and I knew that I wouldn't be able to ski fast enough to get to a place where I could veer off.

Strangely enough, I was completely calm. I knew that my chances of making it out of this unharmed were slim, but my head was clear, and I started to evaluate my options as I kept my skis straight ahead, going down the mountain faster than I ever had before. I glanced from side to side, trying to find an overhang, some huge rocks, or anything that would protect me from the huge masses of snow that came thundering down the mountain at my heels. A few smaller avalanches had started to the sides as well, probably from the vibrations the main one caused. A few birds were screeching loudly somewhere high above me, and it felt like the whole mountainside vibrated. The air was filled with the crackling sound of the moving snow with a deep rumbling base roaring loudly.

Then I suddenly saw it, just a little bit further down, to my left side. The snow had loosened and fallen off, and there seemed to be a ledge or even a small opening.

Large chunks of snow rolled by me, and I felt the wind coming from the avalanche, so I knew that this was my only chance. If I didn't make it, I would be buried, and with the terrain up here it would take too long for search and rescue to come all the way from the resorts to find me. I wouldn't make it out alive.

Gathering all my strength, I turned sharply to my left, up on a small ridge. Then I kicked away as hard as I could, jumping toward the opening. The first section of the avalanche hit the lower parts of my legs from the side, and I felt a sharp pain in my right foot, but the chunks of snows also tore off my skis so when I landed with a thud, I could crawl toward the ledge. It opened up, and I realized that there was a cave going into the mountain. Focusing only on the entrance in front of me and ignoring the pain in my foot, I got up and ran.

It felt like the rumbling thunder from the masses of snow went on forever, and the opening slowly filled up with huge blocks of snow. I limped as close as possible and used the pole I still had hanging on my hand to poke at the blocks. I would survive for quite some time in the cave, but if I could keep the opening at least partially clear it would be possible for me to make a signal to rescuers, or even try to get down on my own. When the sounds finally died down, I'd managed to keep the snow from closing the opening completely, and I sighed with relief. Then I turned around to take a look at the cave and froze.

A dead man leaned against the back wall.

He sat by the wall in a place where it tilted a little, and he leaned his head back. His eyes were closed, and his face seemed somehow relaxed. It looked like he'd fallen asleep, or perhaps as if he'd known he was dying and had accepted it. I knew immediately that the man was dead, though, because he'd clearly been dead for a very long time. His body was sunken in and looked dried out, mummified, and the clothes he wore were strange. They looked like they could have been black but had faded into a brownish gray, and the long tunic and britches were cut in an old-fashioned way that reminded me of how men, in particular warriors, had dressed in the middle ages. He had long hair that fell over his shoulders, and it didn't look like anything I'd ever seen before. Even though the color would have dimmed over the years, it was still a deep red, heavily streaked with gold and auburn. It must have looked almost like flames of fire once, I thought.

My foot had started to hurt, and I wondered if I should try to take off the boot, but decided against it. I had felt the bones snap so I figured it was broken, which meant a huge bucket of good painkillers would be needed to make the pain of pulling it off bearable. I wondered where the closest medical center would be, and hoped that I wouldn't have to go all the way down to Twin City.

I calculated the timing, and if Mickey had made it, I figured he'd do what we'd been taught and as soon as he couldn’t see any signs of me he would get down to Norton for help as fast as he safely could make it. That would take him at least an hour, probably slightly longer, though I knew he'd ski like the devil to get down. Then it would take at least another few hours until they had people gathered and up on the mountain, searching for me. I pulled out my phone, but I'd lost coverage even before we got into Norton so calling for help wasn't an option. I had a long wait ahead of me, though, and needed something to do. Using my ski pole to lean on, I approached the man slowly, snapping a few pictures as I wobbled along.

On the ground next to the man's left hand there were some signs drawn as if he'd used his hand to pass a final message along before he died, and I took photos of them as well. Keeping my weight on my left foot, I lowered myself to the ground and sat down with a low grunt of pain. As I leaned back a bird screech outside, and I smiled. The avalanche had passed, and if birds were moving around, then danger would be over.

My eyes went to the dead man again. Then a thought hit me, and I searched the cave with my eyes, looking for his things. There was nothing to be found. No skis, no bags, no snowshoes... Nothing. How on earth had he gotten to this place, I wondered. It was high up, and to reach the ledge I'd had to jump, coming off a ridge on my skis and at full speed. The snow would never melt at these altitudes, not even in the summer, so he must have climbed.

“Amazing,” I breathed.

I sat there for a long while, just looking at the man. He was tall and even in his current state he somehow looked striking. He must have been stunning when he was alive, I mused. As my gaze slid over him, I noticed darker patches on his side, just beneath his heart, and I gasped. He had been injured? He'd climbed all the way up to the cave, injured?

Leaning back against the cave wall, I tried to focus on how the man could have gotten up there, but I found it increasingly difficult to stay awake. It was a reaction to what I'd gone through and I knew that staying awake in case someone called for me was the best thing to do, but my lids kept drooping so finally I gave up and dozed off.

I didn’t sleep deeply, and the pain in my foot kept waking me up. After what felt like forever, I shook my head to clear my mind from the dizziness and moved around to make my way toward the entrance, knowing that I should start pushing the snow away to see if I could make my way down on my own.

“Wilder?”

I gave up a strangled scream when a deep voice called my name outside. Then I heard the sounds of a helicopter approaching and I crawled on my hands and knees across the floor toward the opening. I had no clue how they'd gotten to me so fast, but I didn't care. They were there, and they'd get me and my broken foot to a hospital.

“In here!” I shouted.

A head appeared in the opening, and then hands started digging away the snow.

“Got her, bring down the basket!” the man shouted, and I recognized the voice.

It was Hawker.

I helped to push the snow away and tried to climb out. He put his hands under my arms and pulled me out, jarring my foot in the process.

“Watch my foot. Broken,” I ground out.

My head had started to spin, and I held on to his strong shoulders, hoping that I wouldn't embarrass myself by puking or fainting.

“Fuck,” he murmured and pulled me deeper into his arms. “You gave me my first strands of gray hair today, Wilder.”

“Mickey?” I whispered, and my hands clenched his shoulders even harder.

“Okay. He's in Norton, worried out of his mind.”

“Can you get word to him? He saw the avalanche chase me down the ravine, so he'll want to know I made it out alive,” I asked, trying to sound calmer than I felt. I was okay, Mickey was okay, so I had nothing to worry about anymore, I told myself. It had been a close call, though, and my knees shook.

“Yeah, reckon you're right. It took three men to hold him back when we got news that you made it,” Hawker said, just as calmly, but his head was turned toward the ravine and under his helmet and goggles, I saw how his jaws clenched and unclenched rhythmically.

I leaned back to stare at him. How could they have gotten news about me? Before I could ask, a clunking sound came from our side, and I noticed a litter basket hanging there, swaying beneath a hovering helicopter. Two more men with helmets and goggles covering their faces stood on the mountainside, grinning widely, and three pairs of skis were propped up against the snow. I looked around and realized that Hawker and the men must have skied on top of the avalanche, through the ravine, to get to me. That had been incredibly dangerous, the snow wouldn't have settled properly, and they could easily have set it all off again. I opened my mouth to ask them about it but didn't get the chance. Hawker lifted me up as if I weighed next to nothing, swung me into the litter, tightened the straps around my body and then his mouth formed a smile that seemed almost taunting.

“You afraid of heights, girl?” he asked.

Before I could tell him that I wasn't, not in the least, he made a sweeping motion with his arm, and the helicopter started moving away from the mountain, taking me with it. I thought they'd winch me up, but they didn't, they just moved slowly with me hanging underneath.

I lay there in the open litter, watching the skies as the helicopter gently brought me down into the valley, and it felt like the flights I often went on in my dreams. My foot hurt and so did my head, and I was frozen to the core. I should have felt miserable, but I didn't. I felt like I'd come home.

Mickey came running when they brought me down on a helipad just outside Norton and tears started to gather in my eyes when I saw the look on his face. He leaned over me, choking out my name over and over, and when I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, I could feel how he pulled in one ragged deep breath after another. I realized that he was also close to tears.

“I'm okay, Mickey. I'm okay,” I whispered, and after a while, he leaned back. I could see that he’d pulled himself together, but just barely.

“Jeez, Wilder. I thought you died. Can't believe you made it out of there. I barely got away, and then I stood there, watching half the mountain come crashing down on you,” he murmured.

“Yeah,” I said hoarsely, remembering how close the call had been. “Lucky,” I added.

Someone interrupted us, saying that they had to get me into the hospital, and Mickey lifted me out of the litter, into his strong arms. They'd brought out a stretcher, but when they tried to push it in front of us, he grunted, kicked it away and carried me into the large building. Mickey placed me on a bed and moved to sit down next to me, but an older woman in white clothes clearly had other ideas because she put her hands on his chest and said determinedly, “Leave. Now.”

I could tell that Mickey wanted to protest but the look on the nurses face clearly changed his mind, and he shuffled out of the room, turning around at the door to give me a small, tense smile before he disappeared.

“Your family's doctor is out of town, but Mackenzie promised to take a look at you. Let's get you out of your clothes, and then I'll go get him,” the nurse said.

She had a strange twinkle in her eyes, as if she found something in my situation hilarious, which I thought was weird, and also slightly insulting. It had started to hurt all over, though, so I said absolutely nothing as we began taking off my clothes. Not until she touched the boot on my left foot. Then I screamed from the sudden sharp pain.

“Okay, not touching that. I'll get Mac, and he'll give you something before we try to get it off,” she said and disappeared.

I leaned back, closed my eyes and was almost drifting off to sleep when I heard the door open.

“Shit,” someone said loudly and I heard several voices giggling.

I opened my eyes slowly and watched as the beautiful man I'd insulted in the door to Johns the evening before strode into the room. His eyes met mine, and they were annoyed, but that shifted to worry as he got closer to me. He looked different in a white coat, I thought. Then everything started spinning, and the world turned black.

***

I dreamt that I was flying and it felt fantastic. I soared high above the mountain, swept closer to the snowy surface and had just turned upward again when angry voices interrupted my flight. I wanted to make them stop, so I tried to raise my heavy eyelids, but everything looked blurry through the small slit I managed to pry open, and I could only see shadows moving around.

“Where's Doc?” a man growled.

“With his daughter in Twin City, you know that, Hawker. I'm the only one here, and I know this doesn't make you happy, but I'm telling you - she isn't injured badly so I can handle it. She has a tiny crack in her foot and some bruises, that's all,” another angry man growled.

Feet were moving around and it sounded like a fight was about to break out.

“I don't want a player like you near my girl, Mackenzie,” the first voice barked, and I recognized it. Hawker.

Mackenzie must be the pretty man who pretended to be a doctor. I giggled.

“You awake, Wilder?” Hawker asked immediately.

“In my dreams, I am,” I replied with another happy giggle because everything really felt absolutely fantastic.

“Shit,” someone said. “Guess the pain meds have kicked in?”

“Yeah,” the man called Mackenzie said calmly. “Didn't want her to feel how I pulled the boot off, so I made sure she didn't.”

“Boy, you need to stay away from my innocent daughter. Am I making myself clear?” Hawker growled.

I giggled again, wondering what he was talking about. Then I decided to set him straight.

“I'm not a virgin,” I shared.

The room went completely silent.

“Mickey -” Hawker rumbled menacingly, but I interrupted him.

“Why would I tell Mickey? He wasn't there,” I asked, and added an outdrawn, “Iffy.”

“What?” Hawker asked.

“Why would he be there?” I asked back, and continued to explain, “He's like a brother to me, and my best friend, so it would be beyond gross for him to watch me when I -”

“Aaaand that's enough sharing, I think,” a new voice cut me off.

“Who are you?” I asked, and when my question was met with silence I clarified, although I was having a hard time moving my tongue, so it came out a bit slurry. “Hawker is here, and he's angry. The pretty man with the eyelashes is here, and he's angry too. I don't know why everyone's so angry, and I don't know who you are?” My voice went up at the end making it kind of a question.

“I'm your uncle,” the voice replied, full of laughter.

“Andy?”

“No, not that uncle.”

“Then you're not my uncle because I only have one uncle, and his name is Andy,” I stated because this I was sure of. My thoughts were getting fuzzy, but I still tried to make this stranger understand. “He's kind of not really my uncle, but there's no one else. My mother is gone. My grandfather is dead, and I miss him. I have no one now, and I miss Willy...”

My voice rose as I remembered my grandfather, and how he was dead. It suddenly felt like I was falling and I moved my hands around feebly, trying to find something to hold on to. Then someone sat down on the side of my bed, a big, rough hand grabbed hold of my hands, and I felt another rough hand caress my cheek gently.

“Don't worry about that now, Wilder. Just rest, and we'll take care of all the rest later, yeah?”

I exhaled, held on tightly to the hand, and started to slip deeper into the dream. I hadn't felt safe like this since I got the call about Willy.

“Is this how it feels?” I murmured.

“What do you mean?” the man said, sounding like Hawker but also not like him at all. This voice was gentle and sweet.

“I always wondered what it would feel like to have a dad. I mean a real one,” I slurred, and continued to explain, “Maybe it's like this? For a long time, I had a father, but he really didn't like the look of me. Then they told me I had another father, but he must have liked the look of me even less...”

My voice trailed off as darkness closed in and I felt the bed shift as the man next to me moved away. Through the buzzing in my ears, I heard a low, hoarse string of foul words, and I tried to focus but I lost my hold on the dream, and everything went black again.

Chapter Four

Recouping

I woke up when Mickey put a hand on my cheek to caress it lightly.

“Time to get up,” he whispered and nudged me gently when he didn’t get any reaction from me.

“Okay,” I said sleepily.

I kept my eyes closed because I hated that he was leaving, but I didn’t want him to know that.

“It will be, Wilder,” he murmured, seeing right through me as always.

I turned, stretched slightly, and opened my eyes a crack but then I closed them again. Mickey sat on my bedside, fully dressed and holding his jacket and car keys in his hand.

The past few days had mostly been a blur. When I woke up at the hospital, a full day and night had passed. An elderly man with a mass of curly gray hair had stood by the side of my bed together with Hawker and Mickey. Apparently, the pretty man called Mackenzie had given me enough painkiller to put a medium sized cow to sleep for a week – Mickeys words – and they had worried. I didn’t mind. My sleep had been healing, and not only for my foot, which was covered in a very nice looking emerald green walking cast.

Hawker had been scowling, but I ignored him and focused on the elderly man who introduced himself as Doc Anderson. He told me that my foot wasn’t broken, just slightly cracked, and I wondered what the difference was. If the bone wasn’t whole, it was broken, wasn’t it? I decided quickly that this probably wasn’t a good moment to discuss the finer points of skeletal injuries, and nodded silently as he went on explaining that I’d be sent home to my house, with a cane to lean on and that the cast would come off in a few weeks.

The first day, no one came to the cabin, and I started to wonder if Mickey had somehow warned them off. I'd dreaded visits, mostly because I knew that my so called father would be the first one to come and I had no clue what to say to the man. He’d saved me, at risk to himself, so I’d have to thank him. This wasn’t something I looked forward to, though. The man had ignored me all my life, and I did not like the fact that I owed him for rescuing me off the mountain.

Now it was the second day back in the cabin, and Mickey would go to Double H to pick up some clothes and other things for us. Even though he got an early start, he wouldn’t get to the ranch until early in the afternoon, and to turn around and drive right back would make it a very long day in the car for him. It took some effort, but after some persuasion, he’d agreed to stay with his parents for the night and then return the next day instead. The convincing had started as cajoling, continued with a lot of yelling from both of us and then I’d brought out the big guns. I’d started crying, something I could do whenever I wanted to, and as big round tears rolled slowly down my cheeks, I let my bottom lip tremble a little to add to the overall effect. Unfortunately, Mickey had known me all my life, but when he’d stopped laughing, he finally agreed to spend the night with his parents.

“Wilder,” Mickey murmured and shook my shoulder slightly. “I get what you’re doing, and I’ll give you that play because I have to leave. Need you to promise me one thing, though.”

“Okay,” I murmured again.

“You should talk to your dad,” he said, firmly.

That got my attention, and I sat up so abruptly my head almost slammed into his chin.

“What?” I asked sourly.

“I don’t have time, Wilder, so don’t act stupid. Talk to Hawker, yeah?”

I stared at Mickey, wondering if he had already spoken with the man himself.

“I don’t have time, Wilder,” he repeated himself, and added, “Talk to him.”

Our glares held for a while but then his face softened and a small smile played at the corners of his mouth. I was ridiculous, and we both knew it. Of course, I would have to talk to Hawker.

“Sure, I promise,” I murmured, still sullenly, but that was mostly to save face.

I knew my face saving efforts had failed when I heard him chuckle, but I couldn’t hold back a small grin of my own, so it didn’t matter. Best friends were sometimes a pain, but they were always a comfort.

Then Mickey left, and I got out of bed. They’d given me a cane, and I’d laughed when the nurse gave it to me. It was a deep emerald green, exactly the same color as my cast.

And there I was, hobbling into the kitchen to make breakfast in a small cottage that Willy had left me, wearing some of his clothes and missing him so much I thought my chest would explode. The numbness I felt those first days after I lost him had passed and the pain was almost unbearable. In a way, I was actually grateful Mickey had left because I knew that he would have held me as I cried but he would also have tried to cheer me up, and he would have kept me busy. Without anyone around to see my grief, I could let it rip through me and even though it hurt it was also cleansing. It felt as if the tears washed away that ball of ice and grief in my stomach.

When the river of tears seemed to subside, I topped up my coffee and stared out the window, feeling hollow but also calmer. I decided that I needed something to do, or another crying jag would surely commence. Since I couldn’t leave, I figured going through Willy's things would keep me busy for most of that day.

The house was small, only two bedrooms and a kitchen that extended into a surprisingly large living area, but there were still things to go through. Willy had a closet full of clothes in the room that had been his, so I sorted them into piles. Throw away. Donate. Save. I cried again as I worked my way through his clothes because the smell of him lingered in some of the garments, but the tears came easier. Then I attacked the desk and shelves that lined one of the walls in his bedroom. They were full of papers and books, and I put most of it in boxes, thinking that I'd either send it to Double H and go through it later or maybe ask Hawker if he knew what to do with it. A lot were notes about the history of the area, and some of it were clearly old.

The cabin was built of stone, and the windows were small so by mid-afternoon the rooms started to get dark, and I realized I hadn’t eaten all day. One more shelf, I told myself. Then I’d make myself something to eat and spend the evening on the couch.

Then I found a box full of papers that were different than the others. It seemed to be a manuscript or even a kind of diary, and once I started reading, I couldn't tear myself away from the text.

“It was a beautiful spring morning, and ahead of me I had an easy day, an easy task, but I held my lips pressed together to keep the tips of my mouth from twitching. I couldn't smile, not yet. I wished Troy was with me, but I was glad Susannah wasn't, and it was a struggle to walk slowly through the settlement...”

I put the box under one arm and brought it with me to the couch. Then I hobbled into the kitchen, made myself a cup of tea and a huge sandwich. It took two trips to get the warm brew and the plate to the cozy living room, but then I settled in to continue reading.

When it was completely dark outside I moved around the house to make sure the door was locked and turned on a few more lights. The story was fascinating, so I leaned back on the couch and continued reading. I wondered how Willy had gotten his hands on it.

“...that night I lay in a bed that was more comfortable than anything I'd ever slept in before, but found that I missed watching the stars, missed feeling the wind in my face.

“Silly girl,” I muttered to myself. I wondered why I couldn't be happy, promised to the prince, a soft bed under my back, and an easy life ahead of me with no hard work. Then I was too tired to think anything else, and I fell asleep.”

***

I gave up a small cry when a loud knock suddenly echoed from the door.

“Wilder! Are you okay?” Hawker called loudly from the outside and then I could see his face peering in through the window. “Open the door,” he commanded with a scowl.

I raised a hand to indicate that I’d heard him. Then I noticed that it wasn’t dark anymore. I'd been so immersed in the story about this girl called Vilda and her friends that I hadn't noticed how hours had passed by. It was still early morning but the sun was up, and I’d spent the night on the couch. I gathered up the papers and put them back in the box.

“Open the door immediately,” Hawker semi-repeated himself, sounding both angry and impatient.

Jeez, I thought. What had crawled up his behind? As I got to my feet and grabbed the cane, I almost hit my cup of tea, which was half empty and standing next to the sandwich I had barely touched. I’d have to make breakfast.

“Good morning to you too,” I said sourly as I stood in the open door.

“You have had the lights on all night, I’ve knocked several times, and you did not open the door,” was his angry reply.

“So?” I retorted.

I could see why he would have worried – if he’d been my dad, which he wasn’t. I’d managed without real parents my whole life, and I didn’t need one all of a sudden.

“For fu –” he started, but I interrupted him immediately.

“Oh no, you don’t. You do not get to come here, wake me up and start shouting foul words.” I glared at him and then I laid it all out. “You might think that you’re my father, but you are not. I had Willy. I had Mickey and his parents. That had to be good enough for me, and it was way beyond good, so I did not suffer, but I also spent way too many years wondering why the man I thought was my father hated me so much. Spent the same number of years wondering why my mother didn’t love me.”

My voice hitched a little because I was pretending that it hadn’t hurt, but it had.

“I am grown up now, mostly, so you don’t get to come here and play at being my father. Not after a shitload of years when you could have been one and wasn’t.” I concluded grimly, angrily and with no little determination.

I could see that I got through to him, and a flash of hurt passed over his face. Then he leaned into me and growled, “Shut up, girl. You have absolutely no clue what you’re talking about, and you need to move that ridiculous cane and your sorry ass foot over to the kitchen so I can get some coffee going.”

I stared at him, wondering if he was insane.

“I –”

“Move.”

“I –”

“Move.”

“Will you stop interrupting me?” I shouted.

“Move.”

Oh my god. Realizing that he wouldn’t give up, I hobbled through the living room, up the two steps into the kitchen, and sat down at the table. The metal cane made a loud rattling sound as I threw it on the floor, and then I turned to the rather scary but somehow completely safe man that had stalked me through the house.

“What?” I snapped.

“Shut up,” he replied, seemingly calmer but still unhappy.

Then he moved around the kitchen, making coffee and pulling food out of the fridge. I could see clearly by the way he knew where everything was that it wasn’t the first time he was in Willy’s house, and it hurt.

“You’ve been here before,” I stated quietly.

“Had dinner here every Monday for many years, Wilder,” he replied.

I stared at him.

“What?”

He turned slowly toward me, and his anger was gone. His face was a blank mask, showing no feelings at all, and I didn’t like it. Then he put a plate full of huge sandwiches on the table.

“Eat,” he murmured.

“But –”

“Eat.”

Oh my god. Were we back to that again? I grabbed a sandwich with cheese and sliced tomato, thinking that being a huge man with long black hair, tattoos and a perma-scowl on his face, he was also oddly domesticated.

“I will eat if you explain,” I murmured through a huge bite. Then I stopped chewing and raised my eyebrows. “Did you put salt and black pepper on the tomato?”

“Well, yeah,” he replied. “Are there any other ways to eat tomatoes?”

“No,” I murmured, but thought to myself that it was odd. I did that too, all the time, and he was right. There wasn’t any other way to eat tomatoes.

We ate in silence for a while, and I was about to say something when he suddenly put his cup down on the table with a small thud.

“I’m sorry about your mother, Wilder. We disagreed on everything, and a few more things most likely, but I’m still sorry,” he rumbled quietly.

“Did you know my mother at all?” I asked because I’d never heard my mother disagree with anyone about anything. A smirk emerged on his face, and of course, in one sense he would have known her. I tried to backtrack by feigning a confident, grown-up attitude to the whole thing. “Except for getting in her pants, I mean,” I added, snootily.

That didn’t make him happy if the muscle clenching in his jaw was an indication, but he held his temper in check and spoke calmly.

“Yeah, Wilder. I knew Carrie.”

I didn’t say anything at first because I had absolutely no idea what to say.

“Did you love her?” I suddenly heard myself asking.

“No,” he replied gently.

Our eyes held for a long time, and it felt strange to look into eyes that looked so much like my own.

“Wilder…” he started, sighing as he pulled his hand through his long hair. Then he straightened and continued resolutely, “No, I didn’t love her, and she didn’t love me. We met, and she was… She was pretty, yeah?”

He started to look a bit uncomfortable, and I couldn’t stop myself from grinning.

“I get what happened, Hawker. I’m kind of proof of that?” I said, thinking that I understood and hoping that it would stop him from going into further details. I had absolutely no desire to hear about the hot and heavy part of their encounter.

He grinned back at me and at that moment I could see clearly that my mother would probably have thought that he was pretty too.

“Where did you meet?” I asked.

“Uni. I had some classes with Rider, and we became friends. Went with him to his home, met Carrie there, and then later at parties in Prosper,” he replied.

“You’ve been to Double H?” I asked, surprised that he had been to the place where I had spent most of my childhood. At least the happy parts of it.

Hawker just stared at me with his brows high on his forehead.

“What did they tell you, Wilder?” he asked slowly.

“Fath –” I caught Hawker’s eye and corrected myself. “Paolo told me that I was an unfortunate mistake in my mother’s youth and that this was why he’d always disliked me. When Mickey called him a few foul names, Paolo explained to us that Mickey would fit in well with your crowd and that we’d find you in Norton, in John’s. Probably with a beer in your hand,” I said, and concluded, “That's all I know.”

“Jesus,” he whispered. “No wonder you came in with an attitude.”

“I always have an attitude,” I corrected him.

Willy had always said it was in my genes, and I’d always thought that Gramps had meant that I got it from his genes, but now I realized that he had meant genes that came from the man sitting in front of me. Hawker defined the word attitude.

“I know,” he muttered.

“No, you don’t know,” I snapped.

“Yeah, Wilder, I do,” he said bitterly, and when I wanted to protest he talked over me. “After the divorce and when I’d left Double H, I had dinner here with Willy every Monday because that’s when you went back to those idiots. When Willy had dropped you off at school, he went here, and we talked about you, how you were, what you’d done. He had pictures, videos, and he told me about every second he’d spent with you.”

“But –”

He interrupted me immediately, and that was good since I didn’t know what to say. Divorce? Leaving Double H? Willy going here each week?

“There are things you don’t know, and I can’t tell you everything, but you should know one thing –”

He made a pause, and I realized that he was suddenly angry.

“I didn’t want to leave, and when I had to, then I wanted to take you with me. I couldn’t, and it has pissed me off for years to have to stand back. To only be a shadow in your life. To sneak in at competitions and graduations, stand in the back with dark shades and a stupid cap on my head, leaving before it was over so no one would notice. Surviving on scraps of information, like a fucking stray.”

I made a strange gurgling sound, but when it seemed as if he would continue talking I raised a hand.

“You need to shut up,” I said, and he blinked. “You lost me at the divorce, Hawker,” I continued.

He blinked again, but his face seemed to soften slightly.

“Yeah,” he sighed.

Then he moved to top up our coffee, and when he sat down again, he had calmed down.

“Yeah,” he repeated but remained silent, as if he didn’t know where to start.

“Please,” I whispered. “Were you married?”

“We got married when Carrie found out about you. Moved up to Double H. We wouldn’t have married if it weren’t for you, but things were okay between us. Not great, but we got along well enough, and I liked Double H. Loved Willy. Then you were born, but Carrie… she just wasn’t wired to be a mother, Wilder. And then she met Paolo Fratinelli.” he murmured.

He held my gaze warily, almost as if he expected me to break down when he shared this.

I started laughing.

“Wilder?”

“Jeez, Hawker. You expect this to be some kind of upsetting news to me?” I said. “You knew her as Carrie, but she wasn’t. She was Caroline Fratinelli, and she was a shitty mother who didn’t care about anything but Paolo Fratinelli. She didn’t care about me, or anything else, the way she cared about him. She gave me nothing when she lived and left me nothing, not one cent, in her will. All she had, all that she ever was, she gave to him. Sucked for me, but that kind of love? Not many of us find that.”

We sat in silence for a while, and then he sighed deeply.

“Always hated that guy. Not because Carrie loved him, didn’t give a shit about that. Just thought he was a…”

He trailed off, so I leaned in.

“A dick faced shitgibbon of a fucknugget?”

He barked out startled laughter, and I had to grin at him.

“Jesus, Wilder,” he said finally. “Apt description, but still –”

“Mickey’s words,” I interrupted calmly, and proudly.

“Yeah, that's something Rider's boy would say.”

“Not really, Hawker. Uncle Andy didn't seem so very happy with Mickey right then. Paolo was indifferent, though,” I said, remembering the condescending look on his face.

“Probably didn't understand,” Hawker snorted. “I always thought his brain had to be more or less pickled with all that hairspray.”

His unexpected words startled me, and I laughed out loud.

“Look, Wilder, we have more shit to talk about,” Hawker started when I had calmed down.

“Yeah,” I said and looked down at my coffee. Things were happening too fast, and I didn't know how to cope with suddenly having someone like Hawker in my life.

“I get that you're confused and that the past weeks has been hard,” he murmured gently.

I raised my head, and our eyes met. His were calm, and soft, but there was a hardness around them too. He looked determined, and when he started talking again, there was a steely tone in his voice.

“But, Wilder, you need to get that I've waited a long time to have this. I won't let it slip through my fingers again.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but he didn't give me a chance, which was good since I had no clue what to say. Not until he said it for me.

“Can we take it slow? One step at a time?”

“Yeah,” I said again, this time on an exhale, so it sounded almost like a sigh.

“Okay.”

“Okay,” I echoed, and added in a soft whisper, “I miss Willy.”

“Me too,” he muttered. “But, Wilder, Hare was right. You have family here.”

“Hare?”

“Brother. You met him in Johns. He was on the mountain with me too,” he explained, but I started laughing.

“I have an uncle called Hare? He’s named after a huge rabbit?”

Hawker stared at me and slowly a roguish grin spread across his face. It made him look years younger, and as I smiled back at him, I wondered what my mother had been thinking. How could she have chosen Paolo when she could have had this man?

“Hare is short for Harold,” Hawker chuckled. “Meet them all tonight.”

It was a question, but he didn't put it as a one, and I wondered what he meant. And how many “all” would be.

“I -”

“Tonight.”

“I -”

“You will meet them tonight, Wilder,” he stated calmly.

“You're very bossy,” I snapped.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“And frustrating,” I added.

“Pick you up five thirty,” was his only reply.

Then he got to his feet, swiftly moved the empty plate and our cups to the sink, and turned to me.

“Rest for a while, Wilder,” he said calmly, turned and walked toward the door.

“Hawker,” I called out, and he turned. The scowl was back on his face, and it looked like he was bracing for my next words. “See you tonight,” I said quietly.

When his face softened, I realized that he'd expected me to refuse to meet his family. I held his gaze and raised my chin a little. After a while, his mouth twitched, like he was about to laugh but held it back.

“Christ, Wilder. It’s gonna be an experience getting to know you,” he murmured. “Five thirty,” he added and walked out the door.

I sat in the kitchen for a long time, watching the door my father had closed gently behind him.

Chapter Five

Everyone

I called Mickey, but he didn't pick up, so I assumed he was already in the car on his way up the mountain. Without my cell phone, I couldn't check where he was, which was frustrating because I really wanted to talk to someone about my morning with Hawker. I had other friends, of course, but none as close as Mickey and I’d pulled away from them when Willy died. I knew they worried, and that I probably should get in touch with them, but I didn’t know what to think about this newfound father of mine and had no clue how to explain about him.

In the end, I just left a message for Mickey, telling him that I’d be away in the evening and that he should come looking for me if he didn't get to Norton too late. I hoped that he’d arrive in time, to back me up. The unspecified number of family members that I would meet felt a bit daunting, and I wondered what they'd think about me. And what I would think about them.

Then I hobbled around in the house, full of nervous energy. After a while, my foot hurt, and I got back to the couch but I was too wired to sleep, so I picked up the story I’d started to read the night before. I wondered if Gramps had written it, which seemed unlikely, but not impossible. When I was little, Willy had always told the best bedtime stories, about heroes and princesses, dragons and other magical creatures. The tone in the papers sounded a lot like his stories, and some of it was also remarkably close to what he used to tell me. He'd had a way of making it all seem so real, and I’d loved our evenings together. Though, the first part I'd read had been told by a girl called Vilda, and it didn’t seem like something an older man would be able to construct, not even my Gramps. Then the adventures had continued, but told by Vilda’s friend Susannah, and she sounded even less like Willy. The stories were simple but had an arresting quality to them that drew me in, and I found it difficult to put the papers down, even when dusk started to settle outside my little house. I raced through the pages, following Susannah from the village of Dragoncourt and through her adventures in the enemy’s stronghold, Pantano. When the story reached its end, and I realized that another part started up, told by the third friend, Troy, I reluctantly put the pile of papers back in their box. I had to get ready for my family dinner, though by then I hoped it would be a quick meet and greet so I could get back to my couch and my papers.

I had hoped that I would be able to ask Hawker some questions in the car on our way to wherever the meeting was supposed to be held. These hopes were crushed when I heard the roar of pipes coming up the short gravel road that led to my front porch. My eyebrows went up, and I barked out startled laughter. Was he picking me up on his bike? With snow on the ground and me with my cast and a cane? Hawker was certainly not like any other man I’d ever met.

“Hey,” he murmured when I walked through the front door.

“Bike?” I asked.

“Well, yeah,” he replied like my question was borderline stupid, and it was of course, with him sitting there, clearly on a motorcycle.

“Okay,” I said, hobbled over and since I’d been riding bikes since I was old enough to nag Gramps into letting me fix up my own together with Mickey and Uncle Andy, I got up behind him, leaned the cane along the side of the bike, and settled in.

When we turned and roared down the road, a thought struck me. Uncle Andy had always been ridiculously fond of his motorcycles, and he and Aunt Gwen had been to various biker gatherings a couple of times each year. Hawker had called him Rider, so maybe that’s how they’d become friends. Had they met over the years? The thought of them sneaking around behind my back stung, so I pushed it away.

We drove along the main road, away from Norton but after just a short ride the road ended, right in front of a huge stone house. My eyes widened, and I looked around to see if I'd missed how we turned off somehow but we hadn't. The road continued up to the house, and that was it. How cool, I thought. The main road through the mountains and up to Norton was just one long driveway to this house. As I looked, I realized that it was actually several buildings. Two big houses flanked what seemed to be the main one, and there were a few smaller cabins, scattered on the hillside. Then I straightened because I realized that we'd just gone around the area and my little house was visible through the trees.

“Seems we're neighbors,” I said.

“Seems so,” Hawker replied but didn't elaborate.

Getting off the bike gracefully wasn't possible, but I managed, and when Hawker tried to help me I frowned at him. He scowled back at me and moved up the steps toward the large wooden doors.

“Hawker,” I called out.

I hadn't moved from the bike when he turned to me, looking impatient.

“I'm not going inside unless you give me at least a little warning on who's there.”

“Shit. I should have told you,” he rumbled. “Didn't think,” he added as he walked down the steps again. “I'm not used to having a daughter, Wilder. I'm also proud of who you are, so I wanted to get in there and show you off to the family, but I should have told you,” he repeated, and his face looked hard, but I'd started to get to know the man, so it didn't scare me.

When the silence stretched out, I pushed, “Still not telling me?”

He grinned, and I thought again that my mother must have been mad to go for Paolo instead of this man.

“Right. This is my father's house, and he will be there. I have two brothers, and they'll be there too. My youngest brother's wife will be there, although she’s a pain in everyone’s ass, so we’ll stay clear of her. They also have kids, expect them to be there.” He paused and added slowly, “I have friends, and we're tight. Some of them will be there too.”

“Okay,” I whispered, thinking that this seemed like a crowd I could handle.

“Okay,” he echoed, and our eyes held for a while.

Then I nodded, and we moved up the steps at the same time as the doors were swung wide open.

“What in the hell is taking so long, son? Get in here, and take the girl with you,” a deep voice boomed loudly.

A flash of something I couldn’t identify passed over Hawker’s face, and then he looked at me with an oddly pleading look.

“You’re gonna have to cut the old man a lot of slack tonight, Wilder. I hope you can find it in you to do that,” he murmured.

Then we turned toward the huge man standing in the open door, staring at me.

“Shit,” he murmured hoarsely.

“Um, what?” I asked, thinking that this was an odd greeting.

The man didn’t answer. He just kept staring at me, and I wasn’t sure if it was a trick of the light coming from inside the house but it looked like his eyes were getting shiny.

“Noticed that you look like me?” Hawker murmured in reply to my question.

I looked at him with my eyebrows raised, and he got the message that I had indeed noticed this.

“Yeah, well I look like my ma, except she had white hair,” he said in the way of explanation.

Oh.

“Spitting image,” the old man whispered, swallowed and with an effort he pulled himself together. “Sorry, girl. Seen pictures, but seeing you…” He swallowed again. “Spitting image,” he finished.

“Her name is Wilder, Da. You know that,” Hawker said irritably.

“Hey,” I said inanely and stretched out a hand.

“Hello, Wilder,” he replied, and the strength returned to his voice again. “I’m your grandfather,” he added.

Oh no.

“All due respect, Sir, but you’re not,” I said calmly.

The air around us seemed to still, and I heard an owl shriek in the silence. The sound seemed ominous, like a warning.

“Willy was my grandfather,” I clarified. “You are the father of the man who fathered me. I just met you, and I met him,” I indicated Hawker, “just a few days ago. So, no. You are not my grandfather, not when it’s less than two weeks since I lost the man who was.”

The old man’s eyes narrowed, but I held his gaze, hoping that he could understand that I was in no way ready for what he was asking for. Finally, his face softened.

“Spitting image,” he murmured, and added, “I’m sorry about Willy, he was a good man.”

“He was,” I said.

“I’m Gilmore,” he said and grabbed my hand to drag me into the house.

We walked through an open hallway and into a large living room. When we entered, everyone froze, and so did I. Gilmore continued into the room, but Hawker stayed behind me. Then one of the men came toward us, and I recognized him as the man who had stood by my father’s side in the bar when I first met him.

“Hello again, Wilder,” he said with a wide grin. “I’m the uncle that isn’t Andy.”

“What?” I asked.

I had no clue what the man meant, but it felt as if I should know and I tried to remember, but my mind was blank. Hawker made a quiet rumbling noise, but the man right in front of me didn’t seem intimidated.

“Never mind,” he chuckled. “I’m Harold,” he added.

“Harold,” I echoed, and nodded slightly in greeting.

“No, Harold,” he said, and I blinked.

“Harold?” I asked.

“Harold,” he repeated.

I sensed that he was somehow making a joke on my behalf and I did not like it at all.

“Oh, you’re Bunny!” I exclaimed with glee that was totally fake in the beginning but turned real when I saw his face darken.

“What?” he asked, not sounding happy at all anymore.

“Hawker told me about you. You’re my uncle Bunny,” I replied.

Hawker made a choked sound that I sincerely hoped was laughter.

“Hare, Wilder. I told you about your uncle Hare,” he murmured in a strained voice.

I turned to him, and the corners of his eyes crinkled slightly. Since I had my back toward the gathering, I twitched my eyes slightly in a small wink and watched how his lips tightened with held back laughter.

“Oh, you’re right,” I said innocently and turned back to my uncle. “I’m so sorry. Guess I got it all mixed up. But a hare is just a very big bunny, isn’t it?”

I put my head slightly to the side and blinked a few times. There were muted chuckles all around me and then Hare’s face softened.

I thought he’d say something else, but he was pushed to the side by a young boy who came running through the room, screaming loudly. The boy kept running, and he slammed into me, so I took a side step. Unfortunately, this made me lean a bit too much on my cast, and I grunted. Hawker immediately moved, but I was quicker. I grabbed the boy by the scruff and yanked him toward me. His eyes met mine, and I knew immediately that he was well aware of what he’d done, and had probably done it deliberately.

I rapped the cane against my cast and asked, “Do you know what this is?”

“Yes,” he replied sulkily.

“Running into someone who has a cast on their foot, knowing well why they have this cast makes me think you’re an idiot. Unless you have some words to say to me?”

I put the last as a question and waited for the boy to answer. It took him a while.

“Sorry,” he whispered, finally.

I wasn’t sure he meant it, but at least he’d said it.

“Apology accepted,” I replied, and I wasn’t sure I meant it either. “Now go away.”

I dismissed the boy with a small push and turned to the room. A couple was standing straight in front of me and when I saw the man I almost laughed. He looked exactly like my father… except he didn’t. He was slightly shorter, a little bit thinner, and his features were the same, but softer as if someone had blurred out the edges. His hair was long and cut in the same style as Hawker's. It wasn’t black, though, it was a dull brown, and his eyes weren’t yellow, they were also brown. He looked like a faded, washed out copy of my father.

“You must be another uncle,” I said.

“Yes, I’m Magnus. Sorry about my boy, he –”

“No need to apologize, the boy did that for himself,” I interrupted.

“He’s very young,” the woman said, which was an apology in a way but it was clear she didn’t mean it as one.

She looked like she had been pretty once, but she wasn’t anymore. Her long, black hair was gorgeous, and her big eyes had an unusual brownish color that shifted toward green, but she looked hard. She wasn’t old in any way, but there were already deep wrinkles between her brows and the tips of her mouth slanted downward. The air around her vibrated with dissatisfaction, and I wondered if it was because I’d scolded her brat or if it was a permanent state.

“Huh,” I mumbled, not wanting to go into an argument, but silently I thought she was silly. The boy must be six or seven years old so he should know better.

“I’m your cousin,” a voice interrupted.

I turned, toward the voice and a huge smile formed on my face.

“Hey there, little cousin,” I said. Then I couldn’t hold back laughter. “Wow, but you look just like me,” I exclaimed, and after a closer look I added, “A prettier version of me, I think. You didn’t get the weirdo-eyes.”

“I –”

“Althea. Go and play with your brother,” the woman interrupted.

The girl immediately walked away, shoulders slumping, but just slightly, and I noticed with satisfaction that her back was straight as a rod.

“But I would have liked to get to know my cousin,” I said sweetly, and then I couldn’t help myself. “It’s good for the younger generation to bond, don’t you think? Makes it easier when we grow into adulthood,” I added.

I knew this was a nasty comment. I was already more or less an adult, and the woman wasn’t that much older than me, but she rubbed me the wrong way for reasons I could not explain. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, and it made her look quite silly, but I kept my laughter in check and watched her silently.

“You are just like your mother,” she snapped.

“Murielle,” Hawker rumbled immediately, slowly and menacingly.

The woman glared at him, then at me, but finally, she turned around and walked away. I chuckled silently because the thought of my mother insulting anyone was hilarious and my aunt-in-law had looked so silly walking away all in a huff.

“I’m sorry –” Magnus started, but that set me off into laughter, and I cut his apology off.

“Jeez, uncle Magnus, stop apologizing for everything. Grow a pair, why don’t ya,” I said cheekily and with a grin.

I meant it as a joke, but I could have kicked myself because I could see immediately that he didn’t take it as one.

“Wilder, perhaps you need to grab something to eat,” Hawker said, and that clearly wasn’t a question. “Let’s go,” he added, grabbed my arm and moved us over to a table to the side where there were trays full of various kinds of food.

“So far, Wilder…” Gilmore suddenly murmured at my side, “you’ve informed me that I’m not your grandfather, told one uncle that he is a big bunny and the other that he has no balls. You also shared with your aunt that she’s old and that her son is an idiot.”

He speared me with a look, and I realized that I had indeed done all of that.

“Um,” I mumbled.

Then both Hawker and his father started laughing. Loudly.

“Guess the apple didn’t fall far from the tree,” a voice murmured behind me.

I turned and almost dropped my plate. Three men stood behind me, next to each other and so close to me that I had to tilt my head back to look at them. Two of them had to be brothers, and the third was my uncle, Hare.

“Um,” I mumbled inanely, again, thinking that I really needed to work on my vocabulary.

I also figured some back-tracking was due, and that insulting everyone around me probably wasn’t the best entrance into this family.

“I’m sorry I called you a big bunny, Uncle Hare,” I said resolutely. “You started it, but I still shouldn’t have said that.”

I looked around to find my other uncle, and murmured under my breath, “I should probably tell Uncle Magnus that I’m sure his balls are quite adequate. After all, he has two kids –”

Loud laughter startled me out of my musings, and I looked around.

“Christ, Wilder, don’t go talking to Mag about his genitals. He’ll never recover from the shock,” Hare said with a grin. He had lost the scowl and seemed mostly embarrassed instead. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable before. It’s an old joke, the thing with my name. It isn’t Harold with an a and an o, it’s Harald with two a’s.”

“Okay,” I said, thinking that this wasn’t all that funny.

“Yeah, I know,” said, reading my mind. “Not so funny, huh?”

“Uncle Bunny, that was funny, though,” the younger man said, and the third man started laughing.

“Hell yeah,” he rumbled, stretched out a hand to shake mine. “I’m Miller.” Then he grinned widely, and added, “I was out of town when you got away from that avalanche, or else I’d helped bring you down. I out-ski both your father and uncle, so if you want a guide on the mountain then let me know.”

I heard Hawker snort something that sounded suspiciously like “in your dreams,” but my uncle Hare just laughed.

“I’ll let you know, although I’ll need a while to get out of my emerald glory,” I said and clanked the cane against the cast. Then I turned to the younger version of Miller who was patiently waiting for his turn to greet me.

“Kit,” he said, stretched his hand out to grab mine,

“Brother?” I asked and tilted my head toward the older version of Kit.

“Brother?” Miller said with a wide grin. “Oh, I’m gonna like you, Wilder.”

Kit chuckled and said, “Uncle.”

I was glad that I finally had managed not to insult someone, though also a bit surprised because Miller had partially gray hair, but he didn’t look old enough to be the uncle of a man Kit’s age.

“Mill is almost ten years younger than my da,” Kit explained.

“Da?” I asked.

It was a word that I wasn’t accustomed to, though I knew it had been used in the mountains in the past. In Prosper, we said “Father” or more affectionately, “Dad.”

“Yeah, archaic, isn’t it? We still use it a lot up here in the mountains.” He grinned at me and didn’t let go of my hand. “Welcome home, Wilder,” he added.

I wasn’t entirely comfortable with his greeting, but he looked like a nice guy, and I figured that I’d insulted enough people already, so I just smiled back at him and pulled my hand slowly away from his.

“You thought Mackenzie was gay,” a voice said.

I turned, and there she was again, my young cousin. My eyebrows went up in surprise from this unexpected comment, and the fact that she had heard about my meeting with the beautiful man.

“Not really, no,” I said slowly. “I gave him a tiny set back because he seemed in need of one, though.”

She grinned and when she did her nose scrunched up a little in a way I recognized.

“He was p –” she grinned again when my eyebrows went up and corrected herself, “super angry. He didn’t want to look at your foot, but there wasn’t a doctor around, so he had to.”

“What do you mean, no doctor?” I asked, thinking that I must have misunderstood.

“I guess he is a doctor, in a way…” she said, but she sounded uncertain, and I just stared at her wondering what she was talking about. I had a cast on my foot, didn’t I?

“Althea,” Hawker rumbled warningly.

I frowned at him and turned to my cousin.

“In a way?” I asked.

“They didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

She had started to squirm, and her eyes darted to Hawker.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and then without warning, she took off. I reached for her but she was quick, and I only felt the soft fabric in her plaid shirt whisk through my fingers.

Then I turned toward the men. Their faces were completely blank, showing absolutely nothing, but as I glared at them, I saw a flicker of humor in Kit’s. I held his gaze a long time, and then I slowly inched up my right eyebrow in a silent question. He sighed.

“Hawker?” he said.

My father grunted, which apparently was some sort of approval because Kit sighed again and started talking.

“Yeah, so, Wilder. Our doctor was away for the day, you know?”

I had been told as much, so I nodded.

“I guess we freaked out a little, and, well…” he trailed off.

I couldn’t tell if he was uncomfortable or if he was about to burst out in laughter.

“What?” I snapped.

“Doc looked at the x-rays when he got back,” Hare suddenly said.

I looked at him.

“This Mackenzie. Is he not a doctor?” I asked slowly.

Hawker had apparently had enough by then and told me straight out what I’d begun to suspect.

“He is a doctor, Wilder, and a good one. For animals, though. He’s our veterinarian.”

Chapter Six

Being alone is not the same as being lonely

“The Vet?” I whispered.

Hawker nodded.

“The Vet,” I repeated, slightly louder this time.

Hawker nodded again. A muscle moved in his jaw, but I couldn’t tell if it was because he tried to hold back laughter or if he was angry for reasons completely unknown to me.

“I really need a beer,” I said.

Miller made a strange grunting sound, but apart from that, the men remained silent, and none of them moved. I supposed that they expected me to explode, but really? A bone was a bone, wasn’t it? We also had a Vet on retainer for the animals at Double H, and I had the highest respect for her skills.

“I’ll get you one,” Hawker said.

“Hawker,” I called out as he started to move. “Strictly speaking, it isn’t legal to give me one.”

I figured I’d point this fact out before slugging down the beer. That way he couldn’t say anything about it later. When he barked out startled laughter, I realized how stupid I’d been.

“I was there, Wilder. Know your age down to the exact second of the actual conception,” he said.

Ewe. I did not need to hear that.

“Wow,” I said, with emphasis. “I’m not sure why you felt compelled to share that lovely piece of information. Didn’t know if you were up to date on current legislation, that’s all.”

Judging from the reactions I got, this was apparently a hilarious comment. Hawker just looked at me with a strange smile playing at his lips. He had his hands on his hips, and after a while, he used one of them to push the edge of his untucked shirt to the side. There was a leather clip hanging in his belt, and on it sat a shiny police badge.

“Yeah, Wilder. I’m up to date,” he said.

“You’re a cop?” I asked, and I knew I sounded shocked because that’s what I was.

Never in a million years would I have guessed that being a police officer was my father’s chosen profession.

“Sheriff,” he replied calmly.

“Sheriff,” I echoed.

“Yeah,” he said and walked away to get me my beer.

I stared after him, not knowing why I was so surprised. The man was clearly a leader. It was just that I’d thought he was the leader of the local motorcycle club or something like that.

When he got back with the beer, we sat down on couches and chairs, eating and talking. I mostly listened, and watched, and so did Hawker. Another trait we had in common, I concluded. The mood was great, mainly because Hare was hilarious, and Miller kept egging him on with a dry sense of humor. Kit clearly thought the sun rose and set with Hawker, and if he could have sat on the floor at Hawker’s feet – he would have. I couldn’t get a good grip on Magnus, though. He laughed when everyone else laughed, agreed with all opinions, even when they were clearly conflicting which I thought was impressive because he managed to make it seem genuine. His eyes didn’t meet mine, and I knew that I had to speak to him at some point about my joke.

Gilmore didn’t really say anything, and each time I looked at him, his eyes were on me. This unwavering stare was a bit unnerving, to say the least, and after a while, I’d had enough. I pulled in a breath, ready to snap at him when I suddenly remembered how Hawker had asked me if I could cut the old man some slack. I figured that this was doable, at least a little while longer, and leaned back into the couch.

“Thanks, Wilder,” Hawker murmured.

He was sitting next to me, and I suddenly realized that except for when he got me my first and second beer, he’d not been two steps away from me since we entered the house. I turned to him and with a smile I raised my bottle in a silent toast. He did the same and was about to drink when we heard the doors open and quick steps moving toward the great room.

“Wilder!”

It was Mickey, and his parents entered the room just behind him. Seeing them made my heart soar, and I realized that even though I was having a surprisingly good time, I’d also been slightly on edge the whole evening. Maybe even since I first laid eyes on my father. It felt so good to see the three of them, standing there in the doorway. This was my family, my real family, here to back me up.

The others started toward the entrance, and I reached for my cane when I caught movement at the corner of my eye.

“Rider!” Althea shouted with glee and ran through the room.

The men around me continued moving toward the entrance, but I watched in shock how Uncle Andy bent slightly and braced for the impact of the girl. He pulled her into his arms and swung her around, grinning hugely.

“Hey there, Allie girl,” he said as he set her to her feet.

As I watched, Aunt Gwen put an arm around the girl’s shoulders and smiled down at her. My gut started to hurt again.

Then the men got to them, and greetings were exchanged, with Uncle Andy in the way of manly men with back pounding and a few curse words. Aunt Gwen got affectionate hugs and kisses on her cheeks. I had a hard time breathing as I watched the group in front of me. They were friends, and they’d met often. I could see this because they didn’t act like acquaintances, they acted like family. And I wasn’t included.

My eyes went to Mickey, but he had his back mostly toward me, watching the scene in front of us. I wished he’d turn around so I could see his face. The thought that he’d also been to Norton and knew about all of this hurt so bad I suddenly wanted to scream.

As I slowly approached the group, Hawker and Uncle Andy stopped in front of each other. They were both smiling, and through the noise and movement, it seemed like they were all alone. Then they hugged, and not in the manly bumping chests and hitting each other as hard as possible on the back way. It was a hug between brothers.

“Finally,” I heard Uncle Andy murmur.

There was that word again, and it grated on my nerves. What did they mean?

“Yeah,” Hawker sighed and started to step out of the embrace.

“I’m so happy for you,” Uncle Andy said with a huge smile.

That’s when my head exploded. Strangely enough, the only sound a head makes when it shatters into a million pieces is just a soft gasp. It was enough for the men to hear, though, and they turned to me.

“Fuck,” Uncle Andy murmured when he saw my face.

“Yeah,” I snarled sarcastically. “Finally, the old man died. Glad you’re all happy about it, though,” I said hoarsely.

When both men took a step toward me, I raised the hand I didn’t use to hold my cane.

“No,” I growled.

Then I pulled in a deep breath, reached for the last pieces of my dignity, and turned to Mickey. He looked at me then, and to my relief, he looked as shocked as I felt.

“Did you know?” I asked.

“How can you even ask that?” he replied.

“Look around Mickey,” I murmured. “Two weeks ago, I thought that family was my crappy parents, Gramps, your parents – and you. Gramps is gone, Mother is gone, Paolo turned out to be an asshat. And right now, it turns out that the only family I had left, the one I thought I could count on to keep me safe, has lied to me my whole life.”

I swallowed and whispered.

“So yeah, I have to ask, Mickey. Did. You. Know?

“No, Wilder, I didn’t fucking know,” he snarled.

“Okay,” I exhaled. “Do me a favor, buddy. Keep them away from me, yeah?”

I didn’t wait for him to reply and turned to the now silent group. Then I pasted a wide, polite smile on my face, and hobbled toward Mickey’s parents, which was also the direction of the door leading out of the room. I had to get out of there before I started screaming or crying. Or both.

“Andrew, Gwendolyn,” I said sweetly. “I’m so happy you’re here. I hope you didn’t drive all the way up here on my account?”

I didn’t give them any chance to respond as I kept moving through the group, but I heard Hawker grunt something that sounded like a curse.

“Though, I’m sure you didn’t,” I exclaimed. “You’re here to see your friends, of course.”

“Wilder –” Aunt Gwen started, but I cut her off, turning my head around the room, including them all in my next words but not looking at any of them.

“Well, it was so good to see you all,” I said happily. “I’ll be leaving now, but it was great meeting everyone. We must do it again sometime?”

Like, never.

Then I walked out of the room with as much dignity as a girl can muster when she’s wearing an emerald green cast and her world just shifted on its axis.

Outside, the air was cool, and I quickly shuffled into my jacket. It was Willy’s, and it was a couple of sizes too big but it was warm, and I’d decided to keep it. A few men were standing there, and the way they were spread out in a half circle in front of the house made me think that they looked like guards, but why we’d need that I didn’t know so maybe they weren’t.

I also realized that it would have to be a long walk back to my house since I had no means of transportation, but whatever. I wasn’t going inside again to ask for help.

One of the men stepped out of the shadows as I slowly made my way around Hawker’s bike.

“Wilder,” he said quietly.

I looked into a pair of beautiful green eyes, and if I hadn’t been heartbroken, I would have smiled at the cautious look on his face.

“Ah, the Vet,” I said.

“I would have told them to move you to Treville or Twin City if you’d been seriously hurt Wilder,” he replied. “You weren’t, so I dealt with it, yeah?”

“Okay,” I said.

The ground was covered with snow, and they’d scraped some of it off the road which just meant that patches of ice had formed instead. I was afraid to fall so even though I kept moving, it wasn’t fast.

“Your name is Mackenzie?”

“Yeah. Everyone calls me Mac, though.”

“Okay,” I said again.

“Look…” he started hesitantly, and I stopped. “Hawker won’t let you walk all the way back. No way.”

“I –”

“He won’t, Wilder.”

“But –”

“I’ll take you,” he murmured and added. “Just let me go inside and tell them?”

“What?”

“I know you hurt right now. Anyone can see that on your face, and we all heard what went on inside so I get why you do. And Hawker can be a huge idiot sometimes, but he’s a good man. He won’t let his girl hobble through the snow,” he said. His eyes locked on something behind me, but then he continued, “So he’ll force you into one of the cars, and he’ll try to explain what he can’t, and that’ll just make the rift bigger. I’ll bring you home, so you can all calm down before you say shit to each other that you can’t take back.”

I looked at him, but he kept his eyes locked over my shoulder so I turned around slowly, fairly certain of what I’d see.

As I expected, Hawker stood on the front porch, flanked by Mickey and Uncle Andy.

“Give me an hour Mickey?” I asked softly, thinking that I needed the time alone to sort my head out and calm down.

“Sure,” he muttered. “I really need some time too, so I’ll go for a drive, will be with you later,” he added and glared at his father before stomping down the stairs. “Thanks, man,” he muttered to Mac, and then he got into his car.

I turned to the remaining two men on the porch.

“Do not come to the cabin. Don’t call me.” I inhaled, and then I added, “Fuck. You.”

“Wilder…” Hawker started, and I pulled in a breath to scream at him.

They had lied to me my whole life. It had been shitty growing up with my so called parents and the man in front of me could have done something about that. But worse, the other man on the porch, someone I’d trusted my whole life, had lied to me. I’d thought that I had a family with Andy and Gwen at Double H, and had started to hope that I’d get another one in the mountains with my relatives there. And both families had lied to me my whole life.

“Right. This ends right now,” Mac said firmly.

Then he bent slightly and picked me off the ground as if I weighed nothing at all. He put me in a huge black car and walked quickly around the hood. Neither the look he exchanged with Hawker, nor the nod Hawker gave him, escaped me, but I was so grateful to get out of there I just bent my head and stared at my lap.

Mac was silent for the short ride to my cabin, and when we got there, he just got out, lifted me out of the car, carried me into the cabin, and placed me on a chair in the kitchen. Then he walked around swiftly, checking the two rooms, the bathroom and finally the windows. If I hadn’t known that he was the town’s veterinarian, I’d have thought he was a cop.

When he started making tea, I opened my mouth to protest, but he cut me off immediately.

“I get that you want to be alone, but that’s just bull-shit,” he said calmly, turned to me and added just as calmly, “I’m not a big fan of bull-shit, Wilder.”

“But –”

“Shut up.”

“I –”

“Shut up.”

“God! You’re just like Hawker,” I shouted.

“Yeah?” he said, and the way he said it I suspected he took it as a compliment.

“This is not a good thing, Mac,” I snapped.

“Of course it is,” he said patiently, and kept speaking before I could protest. “You don’t know the man, and right now you hurt. But Wilder, I’ve been around Hawker all my life, and he’s the most solid man I know.”

I stared at him as he calmly put two steaming mugs of tea on the table and sat down.

“You want my take on what happened before?” he asked.

I sat down, without a word. Did I want to hear what he had to say? He didn’t give me a chance to say anything, he just kept talking.

“No one is happy that Willy died, you get that, right?”

I knew he was right, but I didn’t confirm this because I was still pissed at the wording they’d used. He grinned knowingly at me.

“You get that,” he concluded. “Hawker has also spent fucking forever wanting to have you with him here in Norton. You get that too, right?”

“Humpf,” I said, knowing well that this was a ridiculous reply.

“Exactly,” he said. “So then you get that, regardless of the grief over Willy, people will be happy for Hawker.” He held my gaze, and added softly, “In particular, his best friend?”

“But, Mac, that’s exactly it,” I whined. “I had the shittiest father you can imagine, and the one person who could have fixed that did absolutely nothing.”

He started speaking, but I talked over him.

“And the couple who was like an aunt and uncle to me, who showed me what good parents were actually like? They did nothing either. Worse, they hid what they knew and snuck off in secret to go here.”

I looked steadily at him, hoping that he’d understand the feeling of betrayal, even through his obvious admiration for Hawker.

“Any of them strike you as people who do mean shit for no reason at all?”

“No,” I muttered.

“Right. So you should probably calm down and listen to what they have to say?” he said, putting it as a question when in reality it wasn’t.

I started to realize that I’d probably overreacted, but the hurt was still there.

“Maybe,” I conceded, but added, “Some other time, though. I didn’t like to feel so alone.”

His green eyes softened, and when they did, it felt like I drowned in them. I’d ignored how beautiful he was, or had tried at least, but when he gave me that tender look I couldn’t stop my mouth from forming a small smile.

“Babe, being alone isn’t the same thing as being lonely,” he said. Then he cocked his head a little to the side. “You think what you’re facing is hard? Try having no one, bet you'd find that a whole lot harder. There’s a lot of people who want nothing more than including you in their family. All you have to do is let them.”

The way he said that made me think that he was talking from experience, and I didn’t want to pry, but I also wanted to know. Curiosity won.

“You have no one?” I asked.

“My parents were killed in a car crash when I was just a kid, Wilder. I was raised by my uncle and his family after that. They did their duty,” he replied.

I could hear that this was not a topic he enjoyed and a sudden dislike for this uncle of his that I hadn't even met washed over me.

“Sucks,” I said gently.

“You do not want to talk about this anymore,” he said, and I blinked.

His voice had suddenly changed into a smooth, sweet murmur. It felt like honey slid through my veins, my insides got warm and tingly, and I felt how my mouth started to form the word okay.

“How the hell do you do that?” I gasped instead.

“Amazing,” was his weird reply.

“What?”

“All my life. Everyone. And then there’s you,” he continued.

“Mac,” I snapped.

“I don’t know how I do it, and I don’t know how it works. Don’t use it much, but when I want to… People just seem to agree with me. You don’t.”

“Weird,” I said because really? What else was there to say?

I also knew what it felt like to be different, mostly because of my eyes but partly because of how I never knew how to back down. I didn’t want Mac to feel bad, though, so I used words my grandfather had said to me as I grew up.

“Being weird just means that you’re unique. Being unique means you’re special and if you’re not, then you’re common. I know what I’d rather be.”

I got that soft look again then, and my belly made a flip.

“Willy said that,” he murmured.

“Did you know him?”

“Met him, yeah. Knew him? Not really,” he replied, hesitated, but went on, “None of them were here a lot, Wilder. Willy came in each week to see Hawker, but he usually left the morning after. I don’t think I’ve seen Rider and his woman here more than two, maybe three, times. All three of them have family here. And still, they stayed away, for you.”

I did not understand at all. What had kept Hawker from seeing me? And why had they stayed away again? Mac must have seen my confusion because he suddenly started chuckling.

“I’m messing it all up, aren’t I? Well, it’s Hawker's story to tell and he will when the time is right.”

“Okay,” I said but the dismay I felt must have been clearly visible on my face because Mac started laughing. He had a dimple on his left cheek.

“Am I interrupting?”

Mickey’s voice came from the door, and I jumped because I’d been busy staring at Mac. Then suddenly a bird screeched loudly, right outside, and Mickey jerked around, hunching his shoulders as if he was afraid of getting attacked.

“What the hell was that?” he asked.

“Come in and close the door, Mickey,” Mac said calmly.

He had stopped laughing, though. There was an odd tension in his posture, and his eyes seemed to be focused on the door.

“I should get going,” he said abruptly and got to his feet. “Walk me out?” he asked Mickey and kept moving without waiting for a reply.

“Mac,” I called out when he had almost reached the door.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,” I whispered. Then I asked, “How long will I have to keep the cast?”

“It really was just a tiny hairline fracture so if you were a cow I’d take it off after a week or two,” he said. “Ask Doc, though. He might have other ideas.”

Mickey burst out laughing when Mac almost called me a cow, and I realized that he might not have known about his parents visiting Norton, but he had known that Mac was a Vet.

I decided that we would bring out the whiskey and argue about that as soon as he got back inside.

Chapter Seven

Jiminella

I sat on the front porch to the sprawling farm house that was the center of Double H. Mickey and I had left Norton early the morning after my first meeting with my new family. It was cowardly and a little bit childish, we both knew that, but neither of us wanted to deal with any of them until we’d cooled off a little. Mickey had left a note on my kitchen table, letting whoever read it know that we’d be at Double H and that they should stay away. Then we got into his car and left.

In my hands, I held a cup of blackcurrant tea, and I’d made it in my own cup, the special one that no one else ever used. It was perfectly ridiculous, big and pink with purple swirls and a handle painted in silver, but Gramps had given it to me for no reason at all, and I loved it. I’d fought more than usual with my parents that week, and a couple of the girls in school had added to my grief by calling me a boy, which was an unforgivable insult to a girl at the age of twelve. I hadn’t shared any of it with my grandfather because I hadn’t wanted him to make another call to my parents. That always made his face weirdly gray, and it scared me. I also hadn’t wanted him to think that I missed something because I didn’t. But also, I did. With Willy, it was all about martial arts, dirt bikes, and outdoorsy activities, and I loved that. I didn’t want him to know that I sometimes dreamed of having something that was girly, like cute shoes or maybe a pink clip for my hair.

I’d slipped away and walked around in the forest for a long time, cursing and kicking at tree trunks, trying to get rid of my anger the only way I knew how. Finally, I sunk down in the high grass on a meadow where butterflies fluttered around the flowers and a few birds circled in the sky. I lay back and watched the blue skies above, thinking about my life, and finally, calming down. Then I’d whispered to myself that I was stupid and that I should forget about being a silly girl. A soft wind had swept through the grass then, and it felt as if it swept away the remaining anger. I knew Willy couldn’t have known about my tantrum, but maybe he guessed because the next weekend he brought me tea in the cute pink tea cup.

I smiled at the memory as I sat there, leaning against the wall. I missed my grandfather, but the memories of him came easier, and the sharp pangs of grief had dulled into a soft ache.

I also smiled because I’d gotten an email from Mac. It hadn’t been long, but I thought it had been very sweet, asking me if I was okay and letting me know that he’d talked to both Hawker and Rider, and they would stay in Norton for a few days. He ended it by telling me to call if I needed anything, although he didn’t leave his number so maybe that was just him being polite.

“Hey,” Mickey said as he stepped out on the porch with a cup of what smelled like coffee.

He’d not gone to his parents’ home when we got to Double H. Instead, he’d stayed with me in the main house, although I hadn't seen much of him. He’d been busy reading, and so had I.

In the car, I’d told him about the stories I’d found, and asked him if he could take a look at them. He’d been reluctant, but agreed when he saw that it was important to me. After only a couple of pages, he’d raised his head and looked at me with a grin and then we’d continued reading through the day and long into the night.

“How much have you read?” I asked.

“All of it.”

“All of it?”

“Yeah. They weren’t difficult to read, and I wanted to get to the end,” he said.

“I wonder who wrote it. Do you think it was Gramps?” I asked.

“I don’t know, could be. It doesn’t look like Willy's handwriting, though, and the paper seems strange too. Maybe you could ask Mary to do some kind of test to see what kind of material it is?”

I nodded. Yes, this was a good idea. My friend Mary was in her last year of college, just like me, but unlike me who majored in engineering, she studied art with a focus to become a conservator. She would know how to test the paper, or she’d know someone who could do it.

“Good thinking. I’m going down to Prosper later today. I’ll have to report back to school, and thought I’d pass by the house to get my things as well.”

“You want me to come and help?” he asked, and that was nice of him.

It was unlikely that Paolo would be in the house during the day, but he could be, and it never ended well when the two of them to met.

“Nah. Either I go myself, or I’ll ask one of the girls to come,” I replied.

My girlfriends hated my ex-father just as much as Mickey did, but they usually hid it better.

I went to the school office first, to let them know I’d be back in class the next day and to set up appointments with my teachers to get assignments to make up for the time I’d missed. After that, I’d moved over to the art section of our university. It was located in a small building right next to our huge library, but I knew that it would be locked because the art majors unanimously, and ridiculously, insisted that they weren’t students. They were “artistes,” and they couldn’t be disturbed. I’d called Mary on my way to the city, so she was already waiting by the door, though I knew she was busy with a big restoration project so I just handed her an envelope with the small piece of paper that I’d cut off from the manuscript. She grinned and disappeared back into the building with a loud shout, “I’ll let you know when I know, Wilder! And I might be at the house later, but that depends on the…”

She kept talking, but she also kept walking, so I didn’t hear what her presence in my former home was dependent upon. It didn’t matter, though. She’d either join me there or she wouldn’t, that’s how Mary was, you never quite knew.

It felt weird to walk into the house I’d spent the school weeks in as I grew up. It had never been home, but it had felt familiar, and now it didn’t. My other girlfriend, Jinx, was ditching class to come with me, and I was grateful that she did. Her name wasn’t Jinx, of course. No one in their right mind would name their daughter that.

Her real name was Jiminella Nixée Sweetwater, which sounded like a joke but unfortunately wasn’t.

Her parents were wonderful, but also unbelievably odd. Since Jinx moved into her own tiny condo, they lived in a caravan. They also claimed they could talk to animals, knew when the world would end, and followed their own laws which they, when challenged, declared were ancient but still valid.

Jinx and I had met on the first day of engineering classes and struck up a friendship immediately. Opposed to me – Jinx was brilliant. She started at university at the age of fourteen, going for a medical degree but once she had one, she didn’t go into practice as everyone expected. Instead, she shifted focus and started studying various topics, before ending up next to me in an engineering class. Jinx truly got the formulas and theories, but what she excelled in, and enjoyed the most, was what she called practical engineering. She had several patents approved already and had been shrewd enough to license them strategically, so they gave her a very nice income, and would for a very long time.

“Wilder!”

I was on my way up the stairs to my room when I heard Paolo Fratinelli call out to me. I turned slowly, wondering what it would feel like to look at him.

I felt nothing. This was a surprise, and relief, because all my life there had been a wave of sadness washing over me when I’d seen how he looked at me with either disinterest or worse, dislike. Now he was just some man that I didn’t have to care about anymore.

“Ah, the shitgibbon,” Jinx said from the entrance.

She’d been to the car to get a few bags I’d brought to pack my things in, and she entered the hallway full of confidence, as usual. She’d never liked Paolo, and I had told her what Mickey called the man in the lawyer’s office.

“Jiminella,” Paolo said and inclined his head, but he didn’t respond to her insult. Then he turned to me. “Wilder, I was so concerned when I heard about your incident. Are you healing properly?”

He sounded completely sincere when he said two whole sentences to me for the first time in my life, lawyer induced conversation excluded.

“Wh –” I started because it was totally surreal to see his face.

He looked like he cared.

“I’m sorry, Wilder,” he interrupted. “I behaved badly when we last met, and I have been eager to apologize ever since. My grief… Your mother…” he trailed off, murmuring the last words as he stopped one step down from me, so we were almost eye to eye.

“You’ve been a reminder of what your mother did, and it’s been hard for me. I haven’t handled that very well,” he said.

I blinked. He smiled gently and cocked his head a little to the side.

“I’ve had time to think, and with Caroline gone… You are a part of her. Maybe we can find a way to be family still? I only ever wanted what’s best for you, Wilder. You have to know that,” he said, holding my gaze and still smiling.

I didn’t know what to say. Really? Family? What a complete jackass this man was. I had no clue why he wanted to be a family with me all of a sudden, and I did not care. What I wanted to do was kick him in the gonads, and I was about to do that, at least verbally, when Jinx exploded.

“You are such an asshat! What in the hell is wrong with you, asking her something like that? Huh? Did the sun fry your brain into a raisin? Did you lean too close to the mirror, so you smacked your head? Did you accidentally spray hairspray in your nose? Did –”

“Jinx,” I interrupted.

When Jinx started shouting at Paolo, he bent his head down, giving us a picture of pathetic grief and defeat. He held one hand to his forehead, and then he turned away from us. Unfortunately, he had a wide silver bracelet on the arm right in front of his face, and it was shiny. He wore that bracelet a lot, and it looked beyond ridiculous.

I saw a reflection of his eyes in that bracelet, though. It was only a fleeting moment and then he closed his eyes in apparent sadness, but I didn’t miss that shrewd glance. For some reason, he wanted me to trust him, to befriend him.

Okay, I thought. I’ll play along. For now.

“Paolo,” I murmured, and put my hand gently on his shoulder. “It is hard for me too. I miss her too.”

Jinx made a huffing sound, but I ignored her.

“I’m sure we can find a way. Maybe we can have coffee or dinner? We could talk a little, and then we see?” I asked.

“Thank you, Wilder,” he said hoarsely, and if I hadn’t seen his eyes before I would have believed his sincerity. “Did you meet that man?” he asked quietly, and I knew he meant my father.

“Yes,” I replied. “But, I don’t understand, how did Mother meet someone like that?” I asked, and added, “He was quite awful, and used really bad language, all the time.”

When I sensed that Jinx was moving I quickly added with as much disgust as I could muster in my voice, “And he looked horrible. He had tattoos. All over.”

Paolo didn’t know me very well so he would believe me when I seemed outraged by Hawker’s tats.

Jinx kept moving toward us but I could see a sweet smile form on her mouth, and since Jinx didn’t do sweet, I knew she got my message. I had a big feather tattooed in black and gray on the back of my left shoulder. I got that done when I was sixteen. Willy had signed the papers for me and I think the tattoo artist knew that Gramps wasn’t my legal guardian, but he didn’t care and drew up a beautiful, intricate feather that took two long sessions to complete. It hurt like hell, but I loved it, so it was totally worth it. Jinx knew this, so when I mentioned Hawker’s tats she understood that I was up to something.

“Oh, Wilder,” Paolo murmured. “You don’t have to see him again, you know.”

“Of course not,” Jinx added brusquely. “Paolo,” she added, “I’m sorry about my comment before. I didn’t understand…” she trailed off and stretched her hand out.

He smiled as he shook her hand. Then he turned to me.

“I’m sure you want to start packing up your clothes, Wilder, but you should know – if you want to sleep here sometimes, then you’re welcome to, any time. And if you can’t fit all your things into the car, then just leave whatever behind, in your room or the garage. You can come by and pick it up later, or I can have someone send it to you?”

“Thank you, that is very generous of you,” I said as I started to make my way up the wide stairway.

“Not at all, Wilder,” he said, and the way he kept repeating my name made me uncomfortable, but I just smiled over my shoulder at him.

“Is there anything from your mother that you would like to have?” he asked. “As a memory of her,” he added unnecessarily.

I thought about it but couldn’t think of a thing.

“Maybe some of her jewelry?” he prompted.

“She had a box where she kept some of her trinkets?” I asked, trying desperately to think of something that would seem like something a daughter would like to have from her mother. “You know which one I mean, the one made of wood, with the silver inlays? If you don’t mind, I would really like to have that,” I said. “It reminds me of how pretty she was when she went to dinner parties and grand openings,” I added, hoping that I hadn’t laid it on too thick.

He smiled gently and nodded. I sighed with relief. The box was beautiful, so I didn’t mind having it, but I didn’t really care.

“It’s in her room, on the side table. Take it with you, both the box and its content,” he said jovially.

“Thank you,” I replied.

“I’ll be leaving for the office now, but we’ll stay in touch, Wilder?” he said and started walking toward the door.

“Absolutely, Paolo,” I replied, and moved as quickly as I could toward my room.

As we packed, Jinx and I talked about how nice Paolo had been, and how good it would be for us to have a relationship now that Mother was gone. We’d pretended to be sincere and not even with a glance betraying that we were lying through our teeth, both of us. We hadn’t heard Paolo leave so we kept it up just in case he was lurking around.

“That was weird,” Jinx said when we were finally in my car, on our way up to Double H.

We’d taken as much as we could with us, but some we had to leave in the garage, and I’d go back another day to get it. She was right, of course, that had been totally weird.

“He’s up to something,” I murmured and focused on moving the car in and out of traffic.

I probably wasn’t supposed to drive with my cast, but it worked so I did it anyway. I didn’t want to end up in an accident, though, since I suspected strongly that my insurance wouldn’t cover such behavior.

“Well, duh,” Jinx said.

“I don’t know what it is all about, so I figured it would be good to wait and see,” I said.

“Okay,” she agreed, “just let me know if I can help you out somehow.”

“Sure. I’ll see you all the time in class, so we’ll talk about it when I know more.”

“You’re coming back?” she asked.

We had less than a year to graduation so why wouldn’t I come back? I was surprised she even asked, and she noticed.

“You hate engineering, Wilder. And you suck at it. I’m super happy that we met, you know that, but I never got why you even started.”

“I had to get a degree in something, didn’t I? Figured it’d be useful,” I murmured, but if I were honest – I didn’t quite know why I’d started either.

“Why?”

“Engineers are needed all –”

She cut me off immediately.

“No. I meant, why do you have to have a degree? Almost everyone else in this world needs one. You? Not really?”

“What are you talking about? Of course, I have to earn a degree. It’s not like I’m going to live off Double H,” I stated.

“Why not?” she asked.

“What?”

“Why would you not live off Double H? It’s yours, isn’t it?”

“But –”

“Willy gave it to you.

“But –”

“And you love it.”

“God! You’re just like Hawker,” I yelled.

“Really? I guess I’ll like him then,” she said calmly and unwrapped a piece of candy. “What are you going to do about him?” she asked then, through a mouthful of chocolate.

“Don’t know,” I replied sulkily.

“Do you want my advice?” she asked and, true to herself, didn’t wait for me to reply. “If he has a good explanation for why he left you with the clowns, then you forgive him. If he hasn’t, then you don’t.”

We had stopped at a red light, and I turned to stare at her. She grinned and took another huge bite of chocolate.

“It won’t get any greener,” she said and indicated the lights with her head.

I thought about what she’d said as we drove through the foothills and turned off beneath the gate with the familiar insignia. The ranch was called Double H, but our symbol was two H’s, so this was what we branded our cattle with and also what was on top of our large gate.

I didn’t say anything until I’d parked the car.

“It isn’t that simple, Jinx,” I said.

“It’s just that simple, Wilder,” she snapped immediately as if she’d been waiting for my words. “You’re the one making it complicated. Just let the man explain, and then you decide.”

I opened my mouth to argue with her, but the front door was suddenly thrown open, and Mary came bouncing through it, followed by Mickey.

“Hey! I was running late so I figured it’d be better to just go straight here,” she shouted. “I’ve cooked, and Mickey has started up the grill. Come, let’s eat!”

Chapter Eight

Do you have the keys to the gun safe?

When my phone buzzed, I jumped, like I did every time it indicated that I got an email. I’d sent a short reply to Mac, but he hadn’t replied and, not wanting to seem too eager, I hadn’t been in touch with him again.

This time, it was an email from Aunt Gwen. It was almost as brief as Mac’s, just saying that they loved me and she hoped that we could talk when they got back to Double H. She didn’t make any apologies and offered no explanations, and at first, that annoyed me, but I also realized that trying to have that particular conversation over email would be stupid. She was right, though, we should clear the air, so I sent her a message back saying that I was still in a sour mood, but I loved them and, yes, we would talk. I got a smiley back, which felt good.

A couple of days later, our family doc took off my cast. Then he got the sour, elderly nurse in his practice to do an x-ray.

“Huh,” was his initial medical opinion on the status of my foot, but then he turned with a smile. “You’ve always healed quicker than anyone I’ve ever met, Wilder. This is not an exception. I’ve compared x-ray images, and the crack was small, but it was there. Now, it isn’t. We’ll give you some exercises that’ll build the strength back up, but in essence – you can do anything you want, as long as it doesn’t hurt.”

My smile was wider than his. I’d been increasingly frustrated with the cast, and all the questions I’d had to field from my classmates had been annoying. They’d been beyond impressed to hear about how I out skied an avalanche, but I didn’t like the attention and had downplayed it as much as I could.

“Fantastic,” I murmured and wiggled my toes.

“I’m sure you think so, Wilder, though I must say that the cast was done exceptionally well. My compliments to the doctor in Norton,” he said. I choked and started coughing, but he just went on, “Try to stay out of trouble in the next week, will you? Annie and I are celebrating our twenty-fifth anniversary, and we’re doing that at a secret location,” he said with a wink.

“Congratulations to the both of you,” I said, and I meant it.

Annie was our Vet, and the couple had managed medical concerns for everyone on Double H, both humans, and animals, all my life.

“If you only share it with Annie, then as an anniversary gift I’ll tell you a little secret,” I added, leaned closer, and whispered, “The Doc was away when they brought me down from the mountain. It was the town Vet that put the cast on my foot.”

He burst out laughing, so loud the nurse opened the door to frown at him, hissing that there were patients in the waiting room. He just made a shooing motion with his hands, still laughing.

“Awesome, Wilder, I’ll be sure to tell Annie. It’ll make her day.”

We chit chatted a little bit, but he had patients waiting, so I thanked him again for taking off the cast, and got into my car to go to the city. I had class, laser technology with a special focus on free-space optical communication, and I could have skipped it on account of the doctor’s appointment, but I’d missed several weeks already so I’d decided to go.

As I sat in class and listened to the teacher drone on and on about something I couldn’t find it in me to care even a little about, the question Jinx had asked echoed in my head.

Why was I even there? I’d done courses in all kinds of other topics on top of the engineering stuff, and I realized that I’d done this to keep myself from dying of boredom. The past couple of years I’d focused more and more on history, archeology, and my latest favorite, anthropology. If I dropped out of engineering, I could do more of that. I could also do more work on Double H, and they might need me there with Willy gone. There’d be time to visit Norton more too if I wanted.

Without exactly knowing how it happened, I found myself walking toward the door. I had my bag on my shoulder, but the books and my notepad were still on the desk.

“What are you doing, Wilder,” the teacher asked sharply.

“Leaving,” I said. “This is too boring, and I’m sorry, but I can’t do it,” I clarified.

Jinx gave up a whoop and gave me two thumbs up. When the teacher glared at her, she just said casually, “Yeah, yeah.”

She could get away with that because she was probably the best student the university had seen in the past hundred years, but she obediently settled back into her chair, although still grinning and wiggling her phone to indicate that we’d talk later. I nodded and walked out of the room, feeling ten pounds lighter.

Mickey made the same whooping sound as Jinx when I told him, and it made him look ridiculous, but he gave me two thumbs up too. I just shook my head, and since Doc had told me I could do whatever I wanted, I decided to go for a ride on my bike.

When it came to motorcycles, I favored the old fashioned cruisers, but I had a dirt bike too. I used it mainly to get around off-road on Double H, and in the winter season, I put studded tires on it.

“You’re sure Doc said it was okay for you to go out on the bike?” Mickey asked for the third time.

“Yes, Mickey. He said I could do anything that didn’t hurt. If it hurts, I’ll come back,” I replied for the third time, and added, “I’ll only go for a short spin. Half hour, max.”

“I can come with you,” he offered.

“No, please, Mickey. You have to study, and I’ll be fine,” I said.

Mickey was a much better biker than I was under normal circumstances, but I was way more competitive, so if he came with me, we’d end up racing. I guessed this would make my foot hurt, and knew that it wouldn’t stop me, so I wanted him to stay in the house. Finally, he gave in, and I set off through the snow and into the forest.

I went up the mountain on easy trails for a while, and then I veered off through the trees to wind my way down in a huge semi-circle. The air was cold, and it felt good to be out on the bike, off-road with no time to think about anything but the snow and my tires.

After a while, I stopped and turned off the engine. The skies were clear, and the smell of winter and pine trees was soothing, so I stood there for a while. A bird called out high above me, and I raised my face to look, but I couldn’t see it. I suddenly had a strange feeling of remembrance. Like this had happened before. I frowned but then a cracking sound came from my left, and I wheeled around to look.

On a branch, a short distance away sat an enormous bird. I’d never seen anything like it before, and as I looked at it in awe, it spread its wings and flew off through the forest. The body was almost as white as the snow, but the wings looked mostly black or perhaps patterned in dark gray. I followed its slow flight, but then I narrowed my eyes, not sure if what I saw was correct.

Right underneath where the bird disappeared, there were cattle. My back straightened, and I started to turn my bike, starting it at the same time. There wasn’t supposed to be any cattle up here. In the silence before my bike roared again, I also heard them. When I got closer, my blood froze. At least one cow was down, and several of the others showed clear symptoms of distress, mooing and staggering.

To the side, there was a huge pile of something that looked like pellets. A few empty sacks were tossed to the side, and I jumped off the bike and pushed the cattle away to take a look. Then I roared, making the animals back off a little. The text on the sacks told me what the content was, and when I got closer to the pile, I also recognized it clearly.

Fertilizer. My cattle had been poisoned.

At first, I froze, but then I sprung into action. I realized that we were quite close to where a big old bathtub stood. We placed tubs out here and there on our land so that they'd collect rain and give the cattle fresh water, though we filled them occasionally in the dry season. The herd would know where the tubs were located, and stay in the area around them, so placing the fertilizer near one was logical.

I drove over to the tub, dug out a short chain I had in the equipment bag at the back of the bike, and hooked it around one of the feet of the tub. Then I used the force of the bike, running next to it, to drag the tub in front of the pile. A few cows were still eating, and I roared at them to get out of my way. When I’d gotten the tub in place, I unhooked the chain and started to push, trying to turn the tub over so it would cover the fertilizer. If I could manage, it would prevent more cattle eating it, until I could get help.

The tub was heavy, and the edge had rusted up, so it was brittle and sharp. I had thick gloves, but I could feel the edge cutting right through them and scrape against the palm of my hand.

“Fucking shit,” I roared.

The tub didn’t move no matter how hard I pushed. Suddenly the cattle got spooked by something and started to move in my direction. I heard the bird shriek loudly, probably scared from the sudden commotion, and this made the cattle run faster until one of them ran straight into the side of the tub, giving me the help I desperately needed. The tub teetered on two feet, and I pushed it with everything I had in me until it finally turned and landed on top of the dangerous pellets.

“Oh, shit,” I whispered wildly as I looked around.

Knowing that I couldn’t do anything for my animals and with a heart that bled for them, I jumped up on the bike and flew down the mountain as fast as I dared to go.

As I drove up in front of the ranch, I shouted loudly for help, and for Mickey. Men came running, and as I jumped off the bike in front of my house, I saw that Mickey was standing on the porch. So was Uncle Andy and Aunt Gwen, and neither of the three looked happy.

“What happened, Wilder?” Mickey shouted and ran down the steps toward me.

I ignored him and turned to Uncle Andy.

“Give me your phone,” I barked.

“Wh –”

“Shut the fuck up and give me your phone, now,” I yelled in his face.

He got his phone out immediately. I pulled it out of his hand and started searching through his contacts. As I expected, Hawker was on the list, so I pushed his name and then I waited for him to pick up, putting a palm in the faces of the others when they pressed in.

“Yeah,” Hawker rumbled.

“I need Mac’s number,” I barked.

“Wilder?” he asked.

“This is a fucking emergency, Hawker. I need Mac’s number, and I need it an hour ago,” I growled.

There was a scraping sound on the other end of the line and then I heard Mac’s voice.

“What?”

“My cattle are dying, Mac. My Vet is out of town, and I don’t know what to do,” I yelled. Then I pulled in air and continued, slightly calmer, “I found fertilizer, planted up in the hills, and part of my herd has eaten from it. Don’t know how much. Don’t know when it was put there.”

“Shit,” he barked. “Can they still get to it?”

“I pulled the water tub over there and turned it on top of the shit. Some will still be outside but most is contained.”

“Okay. Right. Your Vet is out of town?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’ll get someone to try to find her replacement, but I don’t know how long it will take to get someone up here,” I answered.

Just hearing his calm voice settled me down, and I started planning for what to do.

“I’m on my way,” he said, and I could hear how he was moving.

“Mac,” I called, afraid that he would hang up on me.

“I’m here, Wilder.”

“What do I do until a Vet gets here?”

There was a long silence and then I could hear how he sighed.

“Do you have the keys to your gun safe?” he asked gently.

I froze because I knew what he meant, and he was right. The animals were suffering, and they shouldn’t have to.

“Wilder, you don’t have to. Rider is there, let him do it for –”

“No.” I cut him off. “It’s my land now, and my cattle. That makes it my responsibility,” I said.

I knew what I had to do, and I would do it.

“Sweetie,” he murmured, but I sensed that it wasn’t to try to stop me. It was to give me the strength I needed to do what I had to do. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes.

“Mac…” I whispered and remained silent for a while. “Drive carefully,” I continued, and added, “but fast.”

“Yeah,” he murmured.

Then I closed the call, turned to the group of men and women who had gathered behind me, throwing the phone back to Uncle Andy.

“You all heard?” I asked, and they nodded with grim faces. They all knew that nitrate poisoning was. “Are the keys to the gun safe still in Willy’s office?” I asked Uncle Andy.

“Wilder, you should let me –” he started, but I got in his face immediately.

“No. It’s my responsibility,” I said with a calmness I did in no way feel. “They are suffering up there, and I will do whatever is needed to stop that. Annie is away for a week so you can help by finding her replacement and get him up here. Then you’re better at sorting out whatever needs to be done right here to help the herd.”

It looked like he was about to protest, so I put my hand on his arm.

“Uncle Andy, I need you to organize everything else. I don’t know how to do that, but you do. Please?”

His face was still grim, but his eyes softened, and he nodded, so I turned to the others, and ordered, “The rest of you have to start rounding up the heads that might make it down the mountain. Andy will find a Vet. If not, then a friend of mine is on his way, but it’ll take him five hours to get here, maybe four if he’s driving like the devil, and believe me he will. The herd had better be here when he rides in.”

They all nodded and started to spread out, and I heard Uncle Andy bark out more orders as I moved toward the house. Mickey followed me, and I turned to stop him, but he spoke before I could say a word.

“You are my best friend. In everything that counts, you are my sister. I will not let you do this alone.”

“I –”

“Don’t spend time on an argument you’ll lose, Wilder,” he barked angrily.

His face was set, and the glare in his eyes was beyond determined so I gave in with a curt nod, relieved that I wouldn’t have to do this alone. As we walked up the steps, I heard him shout to his mother to go and fetch his bike.

We got two rifles and ammunition out of Willy’s safe, together with harnesses so we could hang them on our backs. Neither of us was fond of hunting, but we had been shooting at targets for many years, both Willy and Uncle Andy had insisted on that. Then we roared up the mountain. My foot hurt with every bounce the bike made, but I pushed the pain away and focused on getting us back to where the cattle were.

The first one was the worst.

She was down on her side, and her body shook with convulsions. She made small pathetic attempts to get up, and I could see how afraid she was, and how much pain she was in.

“Easy, girl,” I murmured as I pulled the rifle from my back and loaded it.

She looked at me as I raised the rifle. Suddenly I got an odd feeling that she knew what I was about to do, but also that she accepted it, even welcomed it. Holding her gaze, I pulled in air and clenched my jaws. Then I pulled the trigger.

After that, it was just a blur. We walked around, Mickey and I, finding one animal after the other. Shots echoed repeatedly through the mountains and at first, I flinched with each one, but after a while, nothing mattered anymore. I stopped every now and then to rest, and to listen, hoping that I would only hear silence, wishing that it would be over. It seemed like it would never end.

The sounds from our guns made the rest of the cattle restless. Then horses were moving around us, and men were shouting, but that faded away as they moved the cattle toward Double H. I kept walking, listening for sounds from the ones in my herd that wouldn’t make it down the mountain with the rest. Raising my rifle, again and again.

Finally, it was over.

Mickey and I stood facing each other next to the tub I’d turned around. We had stains of blood on the lower parts of our jeans, and his face was gray. I suspected mine was too.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

I swallowed.

“Yeah,” I said. “Let’s get down to the ranch,” I added hoarsely, and he nodded.

I had no clue how long we’d been up there. It felt like forever or no time at all, but I checked my phone and was surprised to see that we’d been away almost four hours. I had forty-seven missed calls, and I wondered if one of them was from Mac.

The ride back down was awful. My whole body hurt, and my foot worse than that. I suspected that I might have pulled the crack open again, and sighed when I realized that this would mean another couple of weeks with a cast and cane.

There was a flurry of activities going on when we reached Double H. A lot of men, and some women, were moving around, and I recognized most but not everyone. They had moved the cattle into two enclosures close to the main building. Uncle Andy seemed to have gotten hold of a veterinarian, and they dealt with part of the heard. Close to the other part of the herd stood a tall, black haired man. He was pointing at something and shouting an order. A sigh of relief escaped me when he turned around.

“Mac,” I whispered.

He was far away but it seemed like he heard me, or maybe he just saw my mouth form his name. Either way, he started walking toward us.

I got off the bike, but then I stood there, too tired to move. Too heartbroken to do anything at all. Mac reached me and stepped in close, putting his big hands on each side of my neck. I put my hands on his waist, underneath his warm jacket, and leaned my forehead on his chest. I felt tears burn in my eyes and swallowed furiously.

“How many?” he asked gently.

“Twenty-one,” I replied, and my voice hitched when I added, “and fourteen for Mickey.”

“Wilder, I’m so sorry,” he murmured and leaned his cheek on the top of my head.

“Yeah,” I said, turned my head to the side and stepped closer. His arms slid down, and he held me as I cried. Mickey was next to us, and he put a hand on my back, caressing it gently. I heard them talk quietly and finally I calmed down.

“Shit,” I sniffled. “I never cry.”

“Shooting twenty-one dying animals will do that to a girl,” Mac said calmly.

I pulled back a step to look at him. My foot hurt when I leaned on it, and he saw my wince before I could hide it.

“Cracked your foot again?” he asked. When I nodded, he tilted his head a little to the side and went on, “Brought your da, let him wrap it up for now and I’ll see to the rest out here, yeah?”

I turned slowly in the direction he indicated and sure enough, Hawker was standing there, looking dirty and tired. Miller and Kit were flanking him, and by the look of them, they had also helped out with my cattle.

Well shit, I thought. Now there was one more thing I owed my father thanks for, and I still wasn’t sure how much I wanted to be around the man at all.

“Hey,” I murmured.

“Yeah,” Hawker replied without looking at me. “I’ll deal with her foot, you’ll handle the animals, Mac?”

It was a question that really was an order, so Mac squeezed my shoulder slightly and walked off toward Uncle Andy. Hawker made a huffing sound and that was apparently an order too because Kit immediately followed Mac.

“You’ll deal with the local guys and whoever else they bring in, Mill?” Hawker asked.

I had no clue what that meant, but Miller apparently understood because he nodded and walked away toward the stables, giving me a tight smile as he passed.

“Right. I’ll take a look at that foot now,” Hawker said, coming toward me.

Before I could protest, he lifted me into his arms and carried me inside.

Chapter Nine

Special Agent Dick

Inside, it was weirdly quiet after the mayhem and destruction that I’d been through for the past couple of hours. When Hawker placed me gently on the couch, I felt how my eyes started to sting, and I could tell that he noticed.

“Do you want me to leave?” he asked softly.

“No,” I whispered.

I didn’t want to be alone with the images of all the sick animals bouncing around in my head, and it felt like my ears were still ringing from all the shots. Hawker crouched down in front of the couch and gave my cheek a gentle caress with the back of his hand.

“Please, Wilder,” he rumbled, “let me take care of you. Just a little while?”

“Okay,” I replied immediately, partially because it felt really good to have someone there to help me, but mostly because he looked so vulnerable when he asked me.

“Okay,” he echoed and got to his feet. “I’ll get a wrap for your foot, be right back.”

Before I could utter a word, he was gone. I tried closing my eyes, but all I could see was the look in the eyes of that first cow I had shot. I knew that I had done the right thing, but it still felt awful. I couldn’t stay still and was on my way to get off the couch when Hawker came back with a couple of towels and our medical kit. He speared me with a harsh glare, so I sat back down again with an angry huff that was totally fake.

With hands that were incredibly gentle, my father pulled off my shoes and socks, and then he started poking and twisting my injured foot around. It didn’t hurt as bad as I thought it would and the only real pain I felt was when he pressed underneath the arch.

“Doesn’t seem too bad,” he murmured. “I’ll wrap it up, and you’ll use the cane a day or two, see how it feels.”

“Hawker…” I whined. “Not the cane.”

“Use the cane, or go to the doctor tomorrow morning for new x-rays. Those are your options, girl,” he said sternly.

My laughter startled him, and he turned his face up toward me, arching a brow questioningly.

“You sound like a father, Hawker,” I explained and his face gentled.

“You might not like it, Wilder, but I actually am one, you know,” he said.

I looked into his eyes and watched how the flames from the fireplace made them seem almost golden in color. For the first time in my life, I didn’t think that the color looked weird, or ugly. I thought it was beautiful. Well, shit, I thought. Jinx had been right, again. I would have to listen to his explanations when he was ready to give them, and since he didn’t strike me as a man who did anything without a good reason, I’d likely have to forgive him and build some kind of relationship with him.

“I know,” I whispered, and the lines at the corners of his eyes deepened.

Then he bent his head and started to wrap my foot up, quickly and expertly. I wondered how many times he’d done that before and was about to ask when the door opened, and Miller walked in, followed by a small man with gray, short cropped hair and a beer gut.

The kitchen door opened at the same time, and I turned to watch Kit and Mac walk in, followed by Uncle Andy who carried my cane.

“Hawker,” Miller rumbled, and it sounded less like a greeting and more like a warning.

Hawker finished with the wrap, but I got a strange feeling that he wasn’t looking at my foot anymore. He seemed to zone out, losing himself in his thoughts somehow. Then he got to his feet and turned with a sigh. I got up too.

“Dickinson,” he greeted the man, calmly but not very friendly.

“Hawker,” the man replied. “It’s been a while,” he added blandly.

Then his eyes locked with mine. His jaw dropped for a second, but he collected himself quickly. Hawker put an arm behind my back and rested his hand on my shoulder.

“Miss Fratinelli, I’m sorry for the trouble you’re having,” the officer said.

“Johns,” my father rumbled angrily. “My daughter’s name is Wilder Johns.”

The other man’s mouth started moving, but I didn’t hear a word he said. I was completely stunned by what Hawker had called me. Of course. My parents had been married when I was born, so my name wasn’t Wilder Fratinelli or even Wilder Callaghan which was what I used most of the time. It was Wilder Johns.

“Hawker,” I suddenly heard the man say sourly. “There’s no need for you here.”

“Not for you to decide,” Hawker replied calmly.

“You have no jurisdiction –”

Hawker had straightened, and Miller, Kit, and Mac was suddenly lined up behind him. The small man straightened and it looked like he was about to say something unpleasant, but I couldn’t allow that.

“Hello Sir,” I said pleasantly and hobbled a step forward toward the man. “Welcome to Double H. I’m Wilder Johns, and this is my place,” I added politely.

He stared at me in an unpleasant and condescending way that I didn’t like at all.

“I didn’t catch your name. Dick, was it?” I asked, knowing well that it wasn’t but unable to stop myself.

The mood in the room changed immediately. The men moved slightly, and I saw Miller bend his head to hide a smile. My eyes met Mac’s, and his face was impassive, but his eyes were still laughing. I smiled back at him and turned my focus to the man standing in front of me.

“I’m Special Agent Dickinson,” he said sourly, and went on in the same tone, “I’ll be leading the investigation.”

“Investigation?” I asked, but I looked at my father when I did.

“Someone put the fertilizer out there, Wilder. We called the local police, and they must have called in reinforcements.”

“Actually, they didn’t. We are here because we got a call from Mr. Paolo Fratinelli. He heard what had happened and was very concerned about the situation,” Agent Dickinson said.

My mouth fell open, and I heard Hawker mutter something that sounded rude, and angry. To distract him, I quickly faked a stumble.

“Let’s sit down before Wilder topples over,” Mickey said loudly from the kitchen door.

He walked into the room carrying a huge plate full of sandwiches, and his mother followed with a tray full of mugs. The smell of blackcurrant tea was so normal that I almost laughed out loud. It felt completely out of place in the tense room.

Then we sat down on the couch and chairs around the fireplace. Gwendolyn handed me my pink cup and gave me a sweet smile. I smiled back, unable to do anything else. I would have to listen to her explanations as well, and I really hoped they were good.

“I was under the impression that you were Mr. Fratinelli’s daughter, Wilder?” Special Agent Dickinson asked.

He knew well that I wasn’t, and had known that since he saw me next to my father, so this was him irritating Hawker deliberately. I wasn’t sure what reaction this would get, and I didn’t want to find out, so I put a hand on Hawker’s knee, leaning forward.

“My mother was married to Paolo, but he is not my father,” I stated, and went on, “We are trying to adjust to losing my grandfather and my mother just a few weeks ago. Maybe that’s why Paolo is a bit overprotective.”

“Mr. Fratinelli was concerned about the financial situation at Double H, and thought that perhaps someone was killing your herd to help you get money from the insurance?” the agent said, making into a question but I got a weird feeling that it wasn’t.

“Double H does not have any financial problems,” Uncle Andy cut into our conversation angrily, “and Mr. Fratinelli has no insight into the ranch whatsoever, so information from him is pretty much useless.”

“Of course,” the agent said affably. “But the fertilizer was planted there, and I’m sure you have insurance?” he asked me.

“Of course I have insurance,” I replied, hoping that I did.

“I understood from the veterinarian I met outside that the fertilizer would have been there since yesterday or maybe early this morning, and it could have been placed there by anyone,” Agent Dickinson said. Then he added, “You could have put it there yourself, Miss Fratinelli.”

The whole room exploded when he said that. All the men were on their feet instantly, and the already tense mood turned scary. Hawker towered over the agent, so close they almost touched. I got to my feet and walked up to stand next to my father.

“My daughter’s name is Wilder Johns, and you need to leave,” Hawker growled.

When the agent didn’t move, I thought Hawker would start pushing the man backward, so I spoke up quickly, tampering down my own anger.

“I’m sorry you had to come all the way up here for no reason at all. Our local police department will undoubtedly conduct an investigation that satisfies both me and the insurance company, as well as the appropriate authorities.”

“We –” he started, but I cut him off.

“I am under no obligation to answer questions from you, and I would prefer if you left. I need to call my friend, Sheriff Marks and discuss my problems.”

“I –”

This time, Mac interrupted him.

“Sheriff Marks is already outside, and he has a few of his men with him. You can talk to him later, Wilder.” He grinned at me and continued, using his persuasive voice, “You were asked to leave, Special Agent Dickinson. We’re done here, so I will walk you to your car,” he said, shuffling the agent in front of him through the door.

I turned to the room to look at the group of men who stood there, angry on my behalf and willing to fight for me. I’d felt safe with Willy, and when I lost him I thought I’d never have that feeling again, but right then I did, and the smile on my face was wide and happy.

“Well, that was interesting, wasn’t it?” I asked the group in general and turned to my angry father. “What the hell have you done to piss the man off to this degree, Hawker?”

As I watched, his face slowly softened and then he chuckled.

“I’ll tell you someday, Wilder, but it’s a long story,” he murmured.

“You have a lot of long stories to tell me, Hawker,” I said.

I’d said this softly, and I meant it as a joke but my father’s face darkened immediately, and the room got tense again.

Uncle Andy suddenly moved, gently pushing his wife in front of him toward the kitchen. He glared at his son, but Mickey just shook his head slightly. He wasn’t going to leave the room, or me.

Both Miller and Kit started walking toward the door, and I thought Hawker was about to say something when the three men suddenly froze. They looked weird, standing there like statues, staring straight ahead with intent looks on their faces, but their eyes were glazed over, and somehow I got the feeling that they didn’t see anything. Then the door was thrown open with a loud crash, and Mac strode in.

“I can’t go with you,” he muttered.

What? Go where? I thought they’d stay the night, but apparently, I’d been wrong.

“Mac,” Hawker growled, and it sounded like an order, but to do what, I didn’t know.

“I have to stay, Hawker,” Mac replied calmly. “The other Vet was called away, won’t be back until the morning.”

“Shit,” my father barked.

“What?” Miller asked. “We’ll be fine, Hawk.”

“Yeah, know that,” Hawker growled. “Don’t want him here.”

I stared at him. He didn’t want me to have help? Then I realized that we were back to the ugly mood again. Mac had moved to stand in front of my father, and they were glaring angrily at each other. Miller and Kit were walking toward them, but that’s when I lost it.

“What in the hell?” I growled.

No one seemed to have heard, or perhaps they ignored me.

“Go away!” I snapped and kept talking, “I don’t need any of you. I do not know why you don’t want me to have help, Hawker, but I don’t care because I’ve always managed on my own and I will this time too.”

“Wilder,” Hawker said warningly.

“Go away,” I yelled.

I didn’t know why I suddenly was so angry, and to my horror, my eyes started to sting with tears.

“Right,” Mac said suddenly.

He turned and placed himself in front of Hawker, facing me.

“Calm down, okay?” he continued. “You’re acting like the stupid idiot I know you don’t want to be.”

My mouth fell. I’d expected him to speak gently, use sweet words and try to comfort me. I’d expected him to be on my side, and it hurt that he wasn’t. When he turned around to face my angry father, I realized that I’d been wrong on the last part.

“Credit me with some control, Hawker. And talk to your girl, yeah? She isn’t a fool, and she’s so much like you that it’s ridiculous. You know what that means. Talk to her, or you’ll lose her.”

The two men continued their stare down. Neither was backing down, which I thought was pretty impressive of Mac since I could see the hard look on my father’s face. It didn’t take me long to get impatient, though, and I decided to intervene. I wasn’t fast enough.

“Stupid is redundant,” Mickey suddenly said into the silence.

Everyone turned to him.

“What?” Hawker barked.

“Mac said that Wilder was acting like a stupid idiot,” Mickey explained. “But an idiot is per definition stupid, which means that he didn’t need to clarify that she was the stupid kind of idiot. She was just an idiot.”

Miller suddenly tried to hide what clearly was a chuckle with a cough that was ridiculously fake, and the tension eased away from both Hawker’s and Mac’s shoulders.

“Are you calling me an idiot?” I asked sourly, but it was mostly fake. In reality, I was relieved that Mickey had managed to calm everyone down.

“Yeah, but you were one,” he replied affably. “Your dad didn’t mean that you shouldn’t have help. He drove for hours to give you just that, didn’t he?”

Oh.

“He meant that he thought that after hours of driving and then more hours of dealing with your herd, Mac would still have the energy to be so allured by your beauty that he’d sneak into your room and take advantage of you.”

I stared at him.

“What?”

“He thought that you would –”

“Yeah, Mickey, I get what you mean,” I cut him off.

Did he think that we would just throw our clothes off and jump into the nearest bed? Did my father think that? Oh my god.

“Hawker,” I murmured through my embarrassment.

“I can –”

“I wouldn’t –”

Mickey and Mac started talking at the same time but what Mickey could do and what Mac wouldn’t, we would never know. Hawker cut them both off.

“We have to leave, so I don’t have time, Wilder,” he said. “Come to Norton when you’re ready to listen.”

He didn’t wait for me to reply.

“You do not sleep in her room,” he said, pointing at Mickey. Then his finger moved to indicate Mac. “And neither do you,” he said. Then his eyes narrowed into thin slits, and he added in a hard voice. “This is an order.”

I wondered why Hawker thought he could give orders to Mac, but being older and sheriff in their town, maybe he could.

“Not one that is needed, and you should know that Hawker,” Mac said quietly. “I get that you need to give that order right now, though. I’ll follow it, you have my word,” he added.

Hawker seemed to relax but then Mac destroyed that by winking at me and murmuring lazily, “For now, at least.”

***

I leaned back and watched the dark sky, breathing as silently as I could through my mouth. The night was silent, but the stars were blurry because I was crying, again, which made me feel stupid because I hadn’t lied to Mac earlier. I never cried. It had been a horrible day, though, and I was dead tired, but every time I closed my eyes, I saw the eyes of my cattle as I raised the rifle to put a shot in their head.

Hawker, Miller, and Kit had left, so quickly they were gone before I had time to thank them for their help. Uncle Andy had met them on the front porch, and followed them to their bikes, talking quietly with Hawker and our Sheriff. Then they’d roared off, faster than I thought was safe, and I wondered why they were in such a hurry. I hoped nothing had happened back in Norton.

When Uncle Andy got back inside, he turned to me.

“I have things to say, Wilder, and so does Gwendolyn, but you need to talk to your father first. Let me know, okay?” He spoke calmly but not angrily, so I nodded, but he ignored me and turned to Mickey. “You’ll stay here, son?”

“Of course,” Mickey replied calmly, but he didn’t sound too happy. “You have things to say to me too, Dad,” he added.

Uncle Andy sighed and nodded, but he didn’t say anything.

“We’ll leave you for the night,” Gwendolyn called from the kitchen door. “There’s dinner in the kitchen. Just heat it up when you’re ready to eat,” she added softly.

They left, and we spent several hours talking to Sheriff Marks, a friendly man I’d known all my life. He was surprisingly upset about Special Agent Dickinson showing up, and muttered several times that I shouldn’t worry too much about it all.

“Fratinelli apparently has useful friends,” he mumbled, but when I asked him what he meant his face closed up, and he told me again that there wasn’t any need for me to worry and that my father would take care of it.

Then he left, assuring me again that they’d find out who had given my cattle the fertilizer.

Mac had heated up the food Gwendolyn had prepared for us, so as soon as the door closed behind the Sheriff, we sat down to eat.

We’d only known Mac a short while, but he fit right in with how Mickey and I were. He had a sarcastic way of looking at life, and his snarky comments made us laugh, but there was also a calmness about him that I found soothing. We talked about our childhood and the memories Mickey and I shared, but I started to realize that Mac and I had actually been brought up very much the same way. I’d had my mother and Paolo, never feeling like I was quite good enough for them and never being a part of them. Mac had grown up with his uncle, aunt, and cousins, although it didn't seem like they had actually included him in their lives. They had done what was expected, but nothing else. When he told us about being left behind when the others went on family vacations to the waters or to Twin City, my chest swelled with indignation. I hoped I’d never meet any of them. I’d had Willy, though, and I wondered who Mac had.

Then we’d gone to our rooms, and I’d tried to sleep. I tossed and turned but hadn’t been able to find tired, so eventually, I’d gotten out of bed and padded outside with a huge, thick blanket to sit on the wicker couch on the back porch for a while.

“Blow,” a voice rumbled next to me, and I jumped.

“What?”

“You have snot running from your nose, Wilder. Blow,” Mac said.

Oh. God.

I raised my hand quickly, but he was quicker and grabbed it.

“Jeez, don’t wipe it off on your hand. I brought paper towels,” he murmured.

Well, shit. What probably was the most beautiful man I’d ever met stood next to me, and he had just told me not to wipe snot on my hand. I wasn’t entirely sure if I was interested in being more than a friend to him, but I certainly wasn’t uninterested. Awkward was an understatement of how I felt, but I accepted the paper and turned away a little to blow my nose. I’d never in my life tried to be ladylike, so I didn’t know how to do it, but there was no way I'd look him in the eye at the same time as I pushed gunk out of my nose.

“Sorry,” I mumbled as he sat down in a chair in front of me.

“For what? For being human?” he asked.

“Um,” was my not so very clever reply.

“You’re both awake too?” Mickey asked from the door.

Then he walked over and sat down on the couch next to me. I lifted the blanket and leaned into him like I’d done a million times before. He put an arm around me and wrapped the blanket around us.

“Are you a couple?” Mac asked suddenly.

My brows went up. What? He thought Mickey and I was a couple?

I turned to Mickey, and we looked at each other in stunned silence and then we started laughing.

“Guess not,” Mac murmured.

“I love Wilder, but kissing her? Iffy,” Mickey said.

“Beyond,” I added.

“I didn’t think so, but looking at you? Hawker thought you might be, even though Willy always said you weren’t.”

“Nope,” I said and leaned my head back in Mickey’s shoulder. “Why was Hawker so miffed about you staying here, Mac? Surely he didn’t think…” I trailed off, hoping that I wouldn’t have to elaborate.

I didn’t.

“They’re idiots, all of them,” Mac said, which I thought was strange.

When I just kept watching him, he sighed and pulled a hand through his hair. It was loose and fell over his forehead in a soft wave. I decided to never introduce this man to my girlfriends.

“It’s not you, Wilder. It’s all about me,” he started. “I like girls, and I date, okay?”

I did not want to hear him talk about the girls he dated, and I was pretty sure there were many. When he didn’t say anything, I nodded because what else could I do? He looked a bit uncomfortable and moved uneasily in his chair.

“They all think I use my voice,” he murmured finally.

“What?” I asked because that was weird on so many levels.

“Hawker, Mill, Kit, and the others. They’ve seen me with girls, and they think I use my voice to persuade them to, uh... date me.”

The way he used the word date made me suspect that he didn’t mean a burger followed by the movies. I didn’t want to think about him doing things with other girls and was frantically trying to figure out something clever to say when what he’d actually said hit me.

“They think you need to use your voice to get girls to sleep with you?” I asked incredulously.

Mickey moved next to me. I’d told him about Mac’s weird voice that persuaded people to agree with him, and he’d just shrugged it off, likely not believing what I’d said.

Without thinking, I continued, “But you’re beautiful. Why would you need that?”

Mac’s mouth fell open, and he looked like he didn’t know if he should laugh or try to explain. When he said nothing, I turned to Mickey.

“Look at him, Mickey. Isn’t he beautiful?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Mickey muttered and shifted a little.

I straightened and glared at him.

“Of course you’d know, don’t be like that when I’ve told you a million times that I don’t care that you’re –”

“Wilder,” Mickey cut me off angrily.

I stared at him, surprised by his anger, and he glared back at me. This went on for a while and then Mac started laughing.

“You think Mickey is gay?” he asked.

“Well, yeah,” I replied, and Mac laughed even harder.

“Wilder, babe, love that you like the way I look,” he said, finally.

“Wh –” I started, but he cut me off immediately.

“Girls come on to me all the time,” he said, then he went on, “Men do too, okay?”

This was a question I had absolutely no answer to so I didn’t even try.

“Trust me. Mickey is not gay,” Mac stated.

“Thanks, man. Keep going until she’s convinced,” Mickey muttered.

“But I saw you with a boy?” I told him, but it came out as a question.

“What are you talking about?” he asked right back.

“Three or four years ago. You were in the stables with a blonde guy, and you were hugging him. Not a manly chest bump, Mickey. It was a pretty tight clinch,” I said, feeling as astonished as Mickey looked.

“Well shit,” Mickey said exasperatedly. “That was Terence,” he added.

“Terence?” I asked.

“Terence,” he replied and when I growled at him he explained. “Terence from my swim team in school. His mother had committed suicide just a few weeks before, and he was pretty torn up about it. Also, his father was in an even worse shape, so they were moving away.”

Oh.

“Oh,” I said inanely. “You’re not gay?” I asked, but I knew the answer so before he replied I continued. “But I’ve never seen you with any girls?”

“Jesus. I’ve fu –” he cut himself off and continued, looking embarrassed, “There have been many girls, okay?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.

That was pretty stupid of me, I thought, because why would he? And I would not have wanted to know.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he retorted.

“What?”

“You are not a virgin either, Wilder, and you didn’t tell me,” he replied calmly.

I wasn’t, but I couldn’t understand how Mickey knew about that one night I’d spent with the cousin of a classmate. It hadn’t been a fantastic experience, but it had been okay, and the guy had asked if he could call me, although he’d seemed relieved when I said no. I hadn’t heard from him again. It wasn’t something I was embarrassed about. I just didn’t find it an interesting enough experience to discuss, and even if it had been, I would not in a million years even mention it to Mickey.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“You told us at the hospital, honey,” Mac said quietly.

I stared at him as he started grinning, and I heard Mickey chuckle. Then I remembered the dream I’d had in the hospital. Mac had been in it, and Mickey had been too. And my uncle Hare. And my father. Except, it had apparently not been a dream.

Oh shit.

I could feel how a blush slowly crept up my neck when they started laughing, but after a while, I had to laugh too because even though it was kind of embarrassing, it was also hilarious. What a thing to have done.

We stayed on the porch long into the night. Mickey brought more blankets, and after a while I slid down to my side, resting my head on his lap. They continued talking, and after a while, their murmurs created a soft wall around me, keeping the ugly images away until I could relax. Finally, I dozed off, and strong arms picked me up to carry me into my bedroom. I felt safe, and happy, knowing that Mickey took care of me when I needed it.

“I wonder what his last name is,” I mumbled.

“Mackenzie is my last name, sweetie,” Mac whispered as he put me on the bed.

It surprised me that it had been him carrying me, so I opened my eyes slowly and looked into his beautiful green ones. His face was relaxed, and there was a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. As our gazes held, I realized that I could way too easily fall in love with this man. Then he tucked my duvet around me, and I was too tired to worry about my heart. It felt like he gave my cheek a gentle caress but it was so soft that I wasn’t sure if he did or if I just imagined it. Wished for it.

“What’s your real name?” I mumbled.

“Falk,” he replied.

Chapter Ten

Bozo

When I woke up the next morning, Mac was gone. A note on my bedside table told me so, but it was brief, simply stating, “Have to leave. Call.”

I stared at it for a long time, wondering what he meant. I still didn’t have his number, and I certainly wasn’t going to call my father to get it. I also had no clue what I’d say.

Mickey stood in the kitchen, making eggs and bacon, but a strong smell of coffee penetrated the fumes from the frying pan. Fantastic, I thought. I loved the black currant tea we so often drank, but I loved coffee even more.

“Morning,” I mumbled as brought a cup over to the counter and started pouring.

“Sleep well?” he asked.

“Yes. What we did yesterday… it was the right thing to do. Still, I had a hard time to fall asleep, so thanks for staying up with me last night, Mickey.” I said.

“Yeah. Shitty thing to do, but you’re right. It was the right thing. Didn’t bother me like it did you, though. Mac had to shake me around quite a bit to wake me up,” he said.

“Mac?” I asked.

“Yeah, didn’t he tell you? He woke me up, said you were having a hard time and we needed to be there for you.”

I had turned and rested against the counter. My gut did a free fall at his words, and I stared at him, not knowing what to think about this. He shut off the heat and started transferring the food onto plates, glancing over at me.

“His name is Falk,” I whispered.

Mickey straightened and turned fully toward me.

“You’re interested in him, Wilder?” he asked gently.

“I don’t know,” I replied. “Maybe,” I added because I was, and I didn’t want to lie to my best friend.

“Okay,” he said, and added, “Cool name.”

“Yeah,” I said, happy that he didn’t ask more questions because I wouldn’t have any answers for him anyway.

I’d never been in love, not for real, but I had seen how love consumed my mother to the point where nothing else mattered, and I was not at all sure I ever wanted to have that kind of feelings.

“Why did they leave so abruptly, Hawker and the others? Do you know?” I asked to change the subject.

“No idea. Did you notice that weird thing they did, though?”

“Yeah, totally off how they just froze for a split second. Maybe they had ear plugs or something?” I replied.

“They didn’t, we would have seen,” Mickey said. “You’ll go to Norton to talk to your dad today, right?” he asked.

“I might,” I said evasively.

“You should. You need to hear what he has to say, but Wilder? He needs to tell you even more.”

He put the plates on the table and motioned for me to sit down.

“Maybe you don’t see that, but I do, and the others do too. Hawker has something to tell you, and I think he wants to, but he’s also afraid that you won’t like it. I have no clue what it is, and it could be something really awful, but he’s not a bad man, so whatever it is…” he trailed off and looked at me under his brow as he picked up a fork. “You need to keep your cool, yeah?”

Then he started shuffling food into his mouth, and I thought about what he’d said.

“Okay,” I mumbled finally, through a huge mouthful of eggs.

***

I’d been in the car for a while when I noticed a huge sign advertising that turning off at the next exit would take you to heaven and that this apparently was a store called Bozo’s. I chuckled and moved into the exit lane. I wasn’t in a hurry, and it was past lunch time, so I figured I’d take a look at the store to see if Mickey had pulled my leg when he got me the leather bitch outfit. Then I’d find somewhere to grab a bite to eat. Maybe Bozo’s heaven included sandwiches, I thought as I parked outside the huge building.

“Darling!”

I jumped when someone shouted this unexpected endearment a split second after I’d entered the store. A man came toward me, and I didn’t quite know if I should turn and run, or start laughing. I suspected strongly that I was about to meet Bozo himself, so I continued into the store.

“I’m Bozo, and I love your hair! Adore it! Totally!” the man said, and his voice wasn’t loud, but he somehow ended each sentence with an exclamation mark. “Delicious!” he concluded as he stopped in front of me, but he drawled it out like it was four words; Dee-lee-shee-uz.

I tilted my head back and looked up at the huge man in front of me. His shoulders were so wide that I wondered if he had to walk sideways through normal doors, and his upper arms were thicker than my thighs. His brown hair was pulled back in a man bun, and he had a neatly trimmed, brown beard. He wore regular blue jeans and a frilly, lavender blouse with large burgundy flowers. He had matched his lipstick quite expertly with the color of the flowers, and his turquoise eye shadow was applied flawlessly. In spite of the weirdness of seeing a bearded man with lipstick, I found myself thinking that if I ever were to make an effort with my makeup, I would absolutely go to Bozo for advice.

“Hey,” I said and felt how my mouth widened in a grin.

He twitched when I turned my face toward him, and then he pulled me into a huge bear hug. Wow, I thought. That was taking customer service to the extreme, wasn’t it? Then he released me and stepped back.

“You are Hawker’s girl!” he exclaimed happily.

“Um, yeah,” I confirmed.

The thought of my rough, tattooed father hanging out with this man was mind boggling.

“Fantastic eyes, darling! Love them! I have tried for years to make your dad take a walk on the wild side with me, but alas, no luck. Yet!”

I started laughing, and I hoped that he wouldn’t be offended because he was a bit of a fruitcake, but he was also huge and seemed enormously strong. Lucky for me, Bozo started laughing too.

“Come! What can I get you?” he said.

I looked around, and it seemed at first as if Mickey had been right. Everything in the store was huge. Then my eyes fell on two piles of black tees. The store’s name was printed on the front in a super cool bright orange design. One pile had regular men’s tees. The other one seemed to be v-necked fitted t-shirts for women. Damn that Mickey, I thought.

“Got one of those in my size?” I asked and pointed to the tees.

“Sure! You like?” he asked as he rifled through the pile. Then he held out a tee in front of me, pursed his lips, and tossed it to the side. “Hawker might spank me for this, but I’ll get you one that is one size too small, darling. Show off your assets better!”

I giggled at the visual he gave me.

“Hawker spanks you often?”

“No baby girl, not at all, I’m sad to say. Not yet!” he said and winked at me.

I laughed even more then. I really liked Bozo.

We chatted a while as I paid for my tee and another one in Mickey’s size that had “fruitcake and lovin’ it” printed in purple and pink on the front. Then I asked Bozo if there were any restaurants around and he exploded with joy.

“You absolutely have to go to Carson’s, darling!” he almost shouted. “He’s the master and commander of our grill, and his food is dee-vine!”

He picked up his phone and started tapping the screen.

“Had to make him open a restaurant, though. All that food made my butt bigger than our cows’,” he muttered as he fiddled with the phone.

I blinked and tried not to laugh again.

“There!” he exclaimed happily. “He knows you’re coming.”

Before I could utter one word, Bozo pulled out a map and pointed out the way. I had to get a bit further off the highway but he showed me a small road that would take me back again, and since he was so genuinely excited that I would eat at his man’s restaurant, I couldn’t find it in me to object. Anyway, I was in no hurry, and I was also curious about what Carson would look like.

Bozo followed me out, and when I drove away, he was waving goodbye with both his arms in the air. The lavender blouse was flowing around him like a soft cloud.

I laughed as I followed the road Bozo had shown me on his map, but not at Bozo or his strange appearance. I’d loved his kindness and boisterous enthusiasm for life, so my laughter was simply from happiness.

Carson’s wasn’t far down the road, and I walked up the steps slowly. My foot hurt a little, but I’d left the cane in the car again, not wanting to have to explain it. I’d use it when I was around Hawker, though, I thought. When I opened the door, I fully expected another enormous and flawlessly made up man to come running, and I braced.

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Carson was tall but wiry. He wore jeans and a plaid shirt and had not a speck of makeup that I could see. He also looked a lot like Miller and hence Kit, and I felt my brows rise when he came toward me.

“Yeah,” he rumbled in a deep voice that didn’t quite fit with his slim frame.

“What?” was my impolite greeting.

“You’ve met my boy,” he said, which apparently was an explanation.

“What?” I repeated because his explanation made absolutely no sense at all.

“Kit,” he said.

I blinked.

“What?” I said for the third time.

Then I shook my head to clear it from confusion.

“I’m sorry, are you Carson?” I asked.

“Yup,” he replied.

I waited, but he didn’t elaborate. He kept staring impassively at me, and that annoyed me.

“I get that you’re some kind of silent mountain man, Carson. You still need to explain, or I will turn around and go back to Bozo and let him do it,” I snapped.

His face split into a wide grin.

“Jeez, the apple didn’t fall far did it?” he asked, strangely.

I growled, but he just started laughing.

“Come, Wilder. You can hang with me at the grill while I fix you a plate, yeah?”

Then he walked away and since my stomach rumbled from the dee-vine smells from the kitchen I followed him. Christ, I thought. I’ve started thinking like Bozo speaks.

“Kit’s my son,” Carson said as he put a plate next to his grill and started to pile up meat of various kinds.

“Okay,” I said. “I’m guessing Bozo isn’t his mother?”

He barked out laughter at my question, and I smiled back at the man.

“Bo will love it when I tell him you asked that,” he chuckled. “No, Kit’s ma died a long time ago. Then Bo came along and persuaded me to walk on the wild side with him. Haven’t regretted it one second.”

Then he turned to me, and his face suddenly looked gentle and sweet.

“Thank you, Wilder,” he murmured.

“For what?” I asked.

“Bo called me when you’d left the store. A lot of people laugh at him, but you laughed with him. He knows the difference, and we both appreciate you doing it.”

“The world is full of a disturbingly huge number of idiots,” I said. “No need to thank me for not being one.”

His face softened even further, but then he grinned.

“You are so much like your father, Wilder. Good for us to have two of you. Bet you drive each other nuts, though.”

“You’d win that bet,” I said.

Laughing loudly, he handed me my plate and indicated a back porch at the same time as a couple of car doors slammed outside the entrance.

“More customers,” he said and walked away.

I sat down in the middle of the huge porch. There were a few other customers already and as I started eating, Carson showed a party of six to a table. When I put the first piece of meat in my mouth, I understood how the man could fill such a remote place with customers.

“You like?” Carson rumbled as he passed me.

“Dee-lee-shee-uz,” I drawled with my mouth full and winked at him.

More car doors slammed in front of the house, so he moved away with a wave and a loud laugh. I ate the gigantic portion he’d given me, thinking that I had to come back, but not too often. My butt would most assuredly become cow-sized if I did. As I ate, I texted my girls, raving about the food, sending pictures and telling them we had to make a road trip. They replied instantly and we agreed that they’d come with me to Norton a couple of weeks later, and we’d stop at Carson’s on our way up there. We’d stop at Bozo’s too, I thought. My girlfriends would laugh with Bo as well.

When I’d finished my meal, I pushed the plate to the side and spread a map out in front of me to figure out the way back to the highway. It had seemed easy when Bo showed me but I hadn’t been in these parts before, so it seemed wise to look it over one more time.

Carson passed by to pick up my plate and then he put a huge cup of coffee in front of me.

“I could fall in love you,” I murmured, still focused on the map.

“That’s what they all say,” he replied, and leaned over the map. “It’s quite easy to go back to the highway. Just pass around Threy and take a right turn.”

“Threy?” I asked, not finding it on the map.

“Yeah, right where we are,” he pointed. “It’s not marked very clearly. It was our biggest garrison a long time ago, though. Treville was built up to support it, and when there were fewer fights the garrison was abandoned, but the village remained, and grew. There are still ruins in the forest, quite well preserved actually and well worth a look when you have the time.”

Then someone called his name, and he smiled at me and strolled away. He didn’t have any employees but somehow managed without help. The place was a peaceful haven and the calm pace with which everything moved was soothing. I leaned back and looked into the forest surrounding the house. My eyes fell on the map, and I smiled.

The stories I’d read, the ones Willy had tucked away in a box in his house in Norton, were very cleverly put together, I realized. They had told about the guard stations along the forest line, naming Three as the biggest one, and this could be what Carson had called Threy. Three-village would be Treville, of course. How unique to weave the whole story around our history, I thought and wondered again who could have written it.

Carson’s coffee was as good as his food, so when he offered to top me up, I readily accepted. As I sipped the strong brew, I pulled out my phone and started flicking through the pictures, thinking that I had to share my day with Mickey and send him the photos of my meal. Then my eyes fell on the pictures I took in the cave, and my stomach dropped.

I’d told Mickey about the dead man in the cave, and said that I’d let Hawker know, but then I’d forgotten. Too much had happened and I’d simply forgotten. I held my breath as I looked at pictures of a dead man with long, bright red hair that looked like flames of fire. The stories I’d just been thinking about was fresh in my mind, and suddenly my pulse was beating fast and hard.

Vildman.

The name seemed to echo in my head, and I felt goose bumps starting from my legs, moving up over my body. I couldn’t hold the phone anymore because my hands were shaking too much and I was afraid someone would notice.

It fit. The man I found in the cave could very well be Vildman, the man who fathered the girl who told the first part of the story. He had disappeared in the mountains with an injury in his side, into his lung. The timing fit too, his clothes seemed to come from the time in our history that had seen the end of widespread civil wars.

I clenched my hands around my coffee cup and drank deeply, as my mind raced with the implications of what I’d just discovered.

If the man in the cave was Vildman, then no one knew. Who could have written these stories if they didn’t know about him?

But if no one knew, then the stories had to be true. Or?

Suddenly a lot of things seemed to click into place, one after the other. The books had ended at the beginning of the prosperous times, and our main city was called Prosper. Our top swimmers were all huge, and they were all blonde. There had even been talk about the swim teams not allowing kids to participate if they had darker skin or the black hair that was common in the mountains. Our scholars were often heckled for their pale skin, and it was often joked about them not spending enough time outside. Our lawyers and judges had with few exceptions dark skin and dark hair. It seemed to fit in with how they had been in the stories, where the blonde people living by the beach had been strong swimmers, the pale tribes from the north had started writing down their history, and the dark-skinned people from the settlements had been the ones with common sense and reason.

It was a mind-boggling thought, but when I thought more about it, I shrugged it off. It couldn’t be true, of course it couldn’t, but it was a sweet thought that what the boy called Troy had started had also been what won in the end. What he had built had become a huge, successful city and if the two other villages had even existed, they were long gone. We had no cities with names that resembled neither Dragoncourt nor Pantano, although Troy had built his village around a settlement called the Heather Houses so the names could have changed, of course.

Then it hit me. Heather Houses. HH. Double H… Oh, shit. What if it was true?

I felt the goose bumps come back and quickly finished my coffee. I tried not to think at all, but my mind didn’t cooperate and as I looked around to find Carson another thought hit me. The village in the north, where the first girl, Vilda, had come from had been called Nordby. That was old language, meaning the north village. They’d also said they called a small village a tûn. North tûn. Norton.

Vilda and Drake had moved to the North tûn.

If the stories were true, then they would likely be my ancestors.

And if the stories were true, then my ancestors could change into dragons.

It couldn’t be. Could it?

I got to my feet, took a few deep breaths and told myself to not be silly. Humans didn’t change into dragons. It wasn’t possible.

Carson refused to accept payment for the meal and walked me to my car. I laughed and chatted with him, and I don’t think he noticed anything out of the ordinary. I waved as I drove off and started making my way back to the highway. I let my mind wander freely, thinking about what I’d read in the books and how it would translate into the world I lived in.

The Waterfolk had lived in Pantano, and to get there from the Heather Houses, which would be called Prosper now, they rode down to the beach and then they followed the waterline. Today, that would mean you were in… Well, shit. That would put you in Marshes, the village Paolo came from. Marshes was a secluded village, or more like a gated community really. Norton was open for visitors, although it would be impossible to find somewhere to stay the night. Marshes was impossible to even get into unless you were invited by someone who lived there.

I decided to call Mary as soon as I got to Norton and ask her if she had any news about the paper I asked her to test. If the paper was new, then the story was just incredibly cleverly written, and that I found a dead man who resembled what Vildman would have looked like was just a fluke. If the paper was a thousand years old, then… I didn’t know what I’d do then.

When I drove into Norton I had talked myself into mostly laughing about my crazy ideas, and as Johns appeared in the distance, I smiled, remembering how I’d met Mac there the first time.

“What the hell?” I whispered slowly because I’d also remembered Mac's voice.

The voice that made people agree with him. The same voice that the man called Drake had in the stories.

There were just too many coincidences to ignore so with my pulse beating loudly I hit the brakes hard and turned into the parking lot in front of Johns. I knew with a certainty that shook me to the core that there was a man who could tell me the truth. Someone who should have told me a long time ago.

Hawker.

Chapter Eleven

Hummingbirds

“Is Hawker here?” I growled as I slammed the door open.

I was met with a stunned silence.

“Hawker?” I repeated.

“Hey, Wilder. Didn’t know you were coming,” Uncle Hare said from his place behind the bar.

“Find my darn dad,” I snapped.

His eyes flicked to the side and then he looked at me again.

“Okay, Wilder, we’ll get him,” he said slowly, clearly trying to placate me.

I did not feel in the least like being placated.

“Wilder,” a voice murmured behind my back, and I didn’t have to turn around to know that it was Mac.

“Where is Hawker,” I insisted.

“On his way,” Mac said. “Sit down while you wait?” he asked, and I realized that he was also trying to placate me.

I thought it over for a while and then I nodded once.

“Whiskey,” I snapped at my uncle, but I doubted I’d get it since my request made him burst out in loud laughter.

I glared at him, which seemed to make him laugh even harder so I turned and surveyed the tables. The man I took down on my last visit sat in one of the booths and I stomped over to sit in front of him. He blanched.

“I’m sorry for how I acted the last time we met, Wilder,” he said.

He was slurring, and I wondered what was wrong with the people in this town. It was a small community, so why didn’t they get the man some help?

“How sorry, Doug?” I asked.

“What?” he asked.

“Are you sorry enough to pay the price for your stupid behavior?” I snapped.

“Anything you say,” he murmured.

Ha. I had him cornered with that comment.

“No alcohol for a month,” I said sternly.

Chuckles came from all around the room but when I turned to look around, their laughter died down. Wow, I thought. I must look really scary. Or maybe they knew that my father was scarier than any look I could ever give them. Then I turned my glare to the man in front of me.

“Well?” I asked, sourly.

He sighed and his shoulders sank a little, but he held my gaze.

“Okay, yes,” he muttered and pushed his half-finished beer away.

“Ain’t gonna happen,” someone suddenly called out from behind me, and I turned around fast enough to see that it was a big man with a hint of a beer gut that had spoken.

“Doug tells me he won’t drink, then he won’t drink,” I stated clearly, and turned back to face Doug again. He had straightened, and he looked unhappy but also determined.

“You’ll make it,” I said, and since I’d calmed down slightly, my voice was softer. “If it gets too hard, come down to Double H, and we’ll let you work it off on the cattle.”

He sighed again, and then he nodded. Suddenly, his lips twitched with a small smile.

“Hawker’s gonna have the time of his life with you, Wilder,” he murmured.

“Absolutely,” I agreed, and he chuckled then.

Mac sat down next to me and pushed a glass of tea in front of me. I stared at him.

“I ask for whiskey, and you bring me tea?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said calmly. “You don’t need whiskey, you need tea.”

“What I need is to find Hawker,” I said.

“He’s on his way,” Mac replied. “Now drink your goddamn tea and calm the hell down.”

I stared at him. Did he just say that?

“Yeah, Wilder, I did just say that,” he said, reading my thoughts.

He spoke with a calm patience that sounded infuriatingly patronizing to me.

“You –”

“Don’t,” he interrupted warningly.

“You –”

“Wilder.”

I opened my mouth to yell at him, but before I got a word out, he grabbed my hand and held it firmly. His thumb caressed my palm as he leaned in, effectively blocking out everyone else.

“Wilder,” he said again, so silently that he mostly breathed out my name.

He didn’t use his compelling voice, I would have recognized the warm feeling deep inside me, but the way he looked at me still made my insides settle. I exhaled and realized that he was right. I needed to calm down. I wouldn’t find out what I wanted from my father if I made it into a yelling contest in front of everyone at Johns.

“Falk,” I murmured.

His face gentled and he said quietly, “It’ll be okay, baby. Calm down, talk to Hawker, yeah?”

“Okay,” I said. “I would have preferred whiskey, though,” I added.

“We’ll have that another time,” he promised and raised his hand to sweep the back of it across my cheek.

“What in the hell is going on here?” a loud and angry voice barked out next to our table.

Hawker had apparently arrived, and not in a happy mood.

“Hey, Hawker,” I said.

“Don’t you hey me, Wilder,” he growled, and then he went on, “Mac, outside, now.”

I straightened and was about to protest when Mac squeezed my hand, let it go and got to his feet. He stood right in front of Hawker, and I couldn’t see his face, but my father’s looked like a thundercloud.

“We both have things to say, Hawker, but not now. You need to talk to Wilder,” he said coolly.

“Mac –” Hawker started.

To my surprise, and likely everyone else’s, Doug got to his feet and threw himself right into the discussion.

“Hawker, listen to the boy. He –”

Hawker didn’t even look at him. He stretched a hand out to the side and simply pushed Doug out of the way. I saw the hurt look on Doug’s face and knew that this wasn’t the first time he had been pushed away and ignored.

“Hawker,” I said angrily.

He ignored me, and so did Mac. They had engaged in a glaring contest of epic proportions, neither backing down even a little. I didn’t know who would win in a fight between them and I also didn’t want to know so I got to my feet and pushed in between them, pressing my back against Mac’s chest. He immediately moved an arm around my waist and tried without success to move me to the side.

“You both need to stop this,” I said. “Doug’s right, Hawker. You should listen to Mac.”

No one moved.

“Dad,” I said softly, and that single word cut through the ugly mood.

Slowly, Hawker tilted his head down to look at me. I thought that his face softened a little, so I got up on my toes and leaned in.

“Are there still dragons?” I breathed into his ear, so softly that only he would hear.

He had leaned down a bit, but at my question, he straightened again, so quickly I took a step back. Mac caught me around the waist again and pulled me into his chest to steady me.

Hawker looked down at the arm, but he didn’t seem angry anymore.

“Shit, Wilder,” he rumbled. “You give me more gray hair with each day, you know that, right?”

I looked at him, standing there in torn jeans and a super cool, faded black tee with a blood red print announcing to the world that he was wild, as if anyone would doubt that. There wasn’t a single gray hair in his pitch black hair that I could see. He did not look old enough to be my father, and I did the math quickly. My mother was thirty-eight when she passed away. Hawker looked younger than that, but it would have made him around fifteen when I was born. That didn’t sound right.

“How old are you?” I asked, and he burst out laughing.

“Really, Wilder?” he asked.

“What?”

“How’s your foot?” he asked.

“Wh –”

“We’ll take a little walk,” he announced, cutting me off.

I chuckled, because the Hawker I was getting to know was back, and he was annoying, but it was also familiar.

“I’m on my bike, meet you at your house,” he announced.

Then he simply sauntered out of the bar.

“Okay,” I said to the door as it slammed shut behind him.

“Babe,” Mac murmured in my ear, and he sounded amused.

“You’re laughing?” I asked, not turning around because he still had an arm around me and I didn’t want him to let go.

“Of course I am,” he chuckled. “Hawker can be a bit of a dick sometimes. I enjoy watching you taking him down a peg or two, that’s all.”

I turned then, stepping out of his arms, to look at his grinning face. Then I surveyed the bar, and the men were all grinning just as widely. Doug pressed his lips together, though, trying to hold laughter back, but not being very successful in his endeavor.

“Jeez,” I murmured. “Big babies, all of you.”

That made the bar explode with laughter. Not sure what to say, or do, I just shrugged and walked toward the door. Before leaving, I turned around and pointed at my uncle who still stood behind the bar.

“Next time, I’ll expect whiskey, Uncle Hare.”

“Next time, you’ll get it,” he promised, but he did it laughing, so I doubted I would.

I chuckled as I drove up to the cabin, thinking about how crazy my day had been so far. It hurt that I couldn’t call Willy and tell him, but it was a soft kind of pain and not the sharp, burning grief I’d felt before. I wondered if Gramps had known Bozo, and hoped that he had.

Hawker waited for me outside my cabin, and we walked in silence through the trees, until we reached a clearing. There was a low stone wall, and Hawker threw a thick blanket he’d been carrying on it and indicated with a nod and a grunt that I was to sit down. At least, that’s what I thought he meant, so that’s what I did.

Then we kept on saying absolutely nothing at all.

“Are you going to answer my question?” I asked when the silence had stretched out too long.

“You called me dad,” was his strange reply, but he went on immediately, “You had just started talking when I left, Wilder. Your first word was dad,” he said.

Then he leaned his head down and stared at his feet. When he finally spoke again, his voice was hoarse.

“It cut me into a million pieces when I left. Hurt so bad I didn’t know how to get out of bed the first weeks. Got easier eventually, but I’ve been waiting for so many years to hear you say that word again.”

My breath hitched. It hadn’t been great, living with Mother and Paolo, but I’d had Willy. I hadn’t known about Hawker, but he’d known about me.

“Why did you leave me behind? Can you tell?”

“How do you know about the dragons?” he asked.

He still wasn’t giving me any answers, but I suspected that the stories I’d read and the possibility that dragons actually had existed was somehow linked to it all, so I told him about the papers I’d found. He straightened as I shared how the two girls and the boy had told a story about the war that never ended, about dragons, prophecies and Waterfolk. About love and the prosperous times.

I talked for a long time, and then I looked at him.

“I met Bo and Carson today,” I said.

“Yeah,” he murmured, and a smile grew on his face. “Like them?”

“Love them,” I replied, and went on, “Carson’s place is in Threy. He said it used to be a garrison and that got me thinking because the main guard station in the story was called Three.”

I turned to look into the forest. Darkness was still a couple of hours away, but there were already shadows between the trees.

“I found a dead man in the cave when I got away from the avalanche,” I said. He pulled in a breath, but I continued quickly, “I’m so sorry, I just forgot. It sounds stupid, I know, but there was so much happening. And he had been dead for a very long time, his body had shrunk or dried, I don’t know. And his clothes were really old as well.”

“Okay,” Hawker said slowly. “I’ll get someone up there –”

“Wait,” I interrupted. “The man who fathered one of the girls in the story, he disappeared, and they couldn’t find him. I… I think perhaps the man I found was him. His name was Vildman,” said and the name had a startling effect on my father.

“What?” he barked out and grabbed my arm.

“What?” I echoed.

“We have some of our history written down, and the legends about Vildman are well known. There is a grave –”

“It’s empty,” I interrupted.

I was shivering but not from the cold. Could the stories be true after all?

“Are there dragons, dad?” I asked.

He was silent for a long time, and it looked like he was searching for the right words, so I waited.

“It is said that a long time ago, our people could change into dragons, Wilder,” he started, and I gasped, but he went on, “Then it was decided that we should change to our dragon shapes often, to not forget. Some liked it so much they became more dragon than human. Eventually, they didn’t change back, though as time passed and society evolved, each generation became something that was less frightening to the humans in this world.”

My mouth had fallen open, and I did not know what to say. The words holy and shit echoed in my head.

“Crocodiles?” I whispered, thinking that those were the animals that would resemble dragons the most.

“What? No!” Hawker protested. “Jesus,” he added, shaking his head.

I blinked, but he continued immediately.

“Birds,” he said.

There was a long silence while I thought about what he said. It made all the sense in the world, but still not at all.

“Like what?” I asked, and added stupidly, “Hummingbirds?”

He snorted out laughter then.

“No, sweetie. The dragon part remained strong. They became birds of prey.”

Okay. That made more sense, but it was still totally strange.

“Are they still around?” I asked.

“Oh yeah,” he murmured and stared blankly into the distance.

“What do you do when you zone out like that, Hawker?” I asked. “I’ve seen it several times, and I don’t get it.”

“Talk to my bird,” he replied.

I blinked.

“Say, what?”

“Some of us have a connection with one of them, Wilder,” he said gently. “Stays with us all our life. We can see what the bird sees, hear what it says.”

I blinked again. And again. This was mind boggling, but somewhere in my soul, I recognized what he was saying. I’d always felt like there was something missing. Not only because of my crappy parents but something else. A piece of me that was empty.

“Who has a bird, Hawker?” I asked weakly.

“There are a few families in Norton who do. One in each generation, but not always from parent to child. It can be anywhere in the family.”

“How do you know?”

He looked searchingly at me and then he mumbled, “Reach out and feel, Wilder. There are five families, and you’ve seen almost all of them. Who are they?”

I raised my brows, but then I started thinking.

“You. Miller. Kit.”

I looked at him, and he nodded.

“Mac,” I continued.

Then I thought some more.

“There was this older dude… In Johns, both times I’ve been there. Long gray hair, sitting to the side together with a woman and a huge guy, my age, with no hair and fantastic tattoos.” I looked at my father. “Not the older man, but the other two, I think.” He looked astonished but I continued, “And Gilmore, um... Grandfather.”

He laughed then.

“Jesus, Wilder. You pegged every one of them,” he said.

“Not everyone, that’s only four families.”

His face darkened.

“There’s one more family, but most are dead, and the only one remaining isn’t in Norton.”

“Wh –”

“She’s is in Marshes, Wilder. That’s where her mother came from, and when we lost Oz, she took her daughter back there. Died a few years later but Snow didn’t move back here.”

He looked tired, and I decided to talk about this person called Snow another time.

“What’s your bird?” I asked, and he brightened. “Hawk, right?”

“Eagle,” he replied with a chuckle. “Ma had a weird sense of humor.”

I laughed at that, thinking that I would have wanted to meet my grandmother.

“Is it the same bird in all families?”

“No. We have eagles in ours, but Mill and Kit have kites. Mac has –”

“Let me guess,” I interrupted. “Falcon?”

“Who told you his name?” Hawker asked sharply.

“He did,” I replied, and Hawker jerked.

“He did?” he asked.

I just looked at him, thinking that our conversation had taken a strange turn.

“Who has the bird in my generation?” I asked to change the subject.

“You don’t know?” he asked with a small smile.

I returned the smile because I did know, and it was a strange feeling but it also felt fantastic to know that I had this amazing, magical legacy.

“What’s it like?” I asked.

“I’ll show you,” he replied, got to his feet and took a few steps forward.

Then he raised his head, looking intently toward the skies. Almost immediately, a huge bird came gliding toward us. Hawker stretched his arms out to the sides and Miller and Mac stepped out from the trees. They nodded at me but stayed a distance away from us, and two more birds came gliding across the sky.

As I watched, an eagle, a falcon and a red kite landed in front of the men. Then they sat calmly in the clearing.

“My bird says that you are pretty,” Hawker rumbled quietly.

“Mine says the same,” Miller said, and then he chuckled. “Says you should go on a date with Kit.”

The falcon shrieked suddenly, and I heard Mac mumble soft words. Then he turned to my father with a grin.

“My bird says she’ll shit on Kit’s head if he tries,” he said, and added with a shrug, “She thinks Wilder should go on a date with me.”

Chapter Twelve

Oh crap, another prophecy

I sat on my couch and stared at the fireplace. I should start a fire, I thought. Make dinner. Dip my head in a bucket of ice. Something. Instead, I just sat there, completely stunned.

When Mac announced that his bird thought I should go on a date with him, things went downhill. To hear how the birds were somehow matchmaking and trying to get me into dates was a culmination of a day that could only be classified as intensely weird. I didn’t know what to say, but when I caught sight of my father’s face, I started laughing. Hawker looked like he’d sucked on a lemon for a really, really, long time. He growled a long string of foul words and Miller immediately positioned himself between my father and Mac, though if it was to protect Mac or yell at him, I didn’t know.

Mac made a sweeping gesture with his arm, and the falcon took off immediately. Hawker and Miller sent their birds away as well and then they all turned to me.

“What?” I asked, and when they remained silent, I repeated myself, “What?”

Without a word, Miller came to me, gently pushing me away from the men and back to my house through the forest. He mumbled something about Hawker and Mac having to talk and that I should rest. Then he left me. I stumbled into the cabin and sat down on the couch.

I wondered what the hell had just happened. My mind was also still reeling from the information Hawker had shared, and the birds I’d seen. They had been beautiful and their connection to the three men obvious. I wondered if the huge bird I’d seen when I found the sick cattle had been mine. It had helped me in a way, but except for admiring its beauty, I hadn’t felt anything special about it, so I didn’t think so.

The sound of my phone ringing in the silent house startled me. I had no signal in the mountains, so I had not been expecting it, and answered out of reflex, even though I didn’t recognize the number.

“Wilder?” a deep voice said.

Crap. Paolo.

“Hey, Paolo,” I said.

“Oh good, I got hold of you finally. I have been so worried about you, and your safety. I heard what happened at Double H. How are you doing?” he said.

His voice was warm and gentle, oozing friendliness and concern.

“I’m okay,” I replied. I guessed from the silence that ensued that he wanted more details, so I went on, “It was horrible of course, and we lost some of my cattle, but we managed to save most. The police are investigating, and I think that some insurance investigators were supposed to get there today to look into it as well.”

“You aren’t at Double H?” he asked.

“No, I’m in Norton,” I replied, and added, “I’m not sure when I’ll come here again, so I figured it would be good to bring some of Willy’s things back to Double H and close up the house.”

I didn’t want him to know that I was meeting with my father. I also didn’t want him to know that I planned to spend more time in Norton, and had in fact packed several big boxes with things that I wanted to have in my little house. I’d brought some clothes, of course, but also some things from the kitchen and since Willy hadn’t been big on decorating, some paintings and the jewelry box that had been my mother’s. I didn’t know why, but before I closed the boxes, I’d wrapped up my pink mug in a towel and added that.

“You’re not going to live there?” he asked.

“No,” I said with a giggle that I hoped didn’t sound as fake as it felt. “My so-called father lives here, remember?”

Then I giggled again, and this time it sounded even faker than before. Paolo was apparently fooled because he chuckled.

“If you need to get away from the man, Wilder, just let me know. You can stay in the house in Prosper for a while, or I’ll find a hotel…” he trailed off. When he spoke again, he tried hard to sound as if he came up with a brilliant idea just like that, but it mostly sounded rehearsed.

“I know! You could come for a visit to Marshes?”

I straightened because this was unexpected, to say the least.

“I don’t know,” I said, trying to stall. “It might be –”

A loud knock on the door cut me off.

“Paolo, I’m so sorry, I have someone at the door,” I said, glad for a reason to hang up. “Can I think about your generous invitation, and let you know?”

“Of course, Wilder. Absolutely. Call me anytime, any time at all,” he said.

I said goodbye at the same time as I opened the door and looked into the eyes of my father. He seemed to have calmed down, which was a relief.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

I moved out of the way, waving my phone in front of him.

“Did you do something to make this work?”

“Kit did. The boy’s a geek, can fix anything. Got you hooked up to the local network we have up here.”

“Okay,” I said.

I absolutely had to introduce Jinx to Kit, they’d hit it off immediately.

“We need to talk,” Hawker said.

Then he walked into the kitchen, and started making something I suspected was tea. When he was done, he opened the bottle of whiskey that still stood on the counter where Willy had left it. After pouring a generous helping in his mug, he looked at me with a brow raised. When I nodded, he added a tiny splash to my cup. Then we sat down at the kitchen table.

“When you were just above a year old, your mother saw you with my bird,” he started abruptly.

I blinked, but he just continued talking.

“She had already met the hair-sprayed buffoon, so I’m guessing she was looking for a reason to end our marriage. I would have let her go, she knew that. I would have taken you with me, and she knew that too. For some reason, she wanted to keep you. Maybe it was to look like a perfect mother, which she in no way was. Maybe it was something else, I don’t know.”

He made a pause and held my gaze. I remained silent, waiting for him to continue.

“She had seen some things, and I’d told her others, so she had figured out parts of our connection with the birds and how we use it. Then she saw you with the bird. You were just playing, Wilder… but she didn’t get that. You were trying to climb up on the birds back, shouting, “Fly, fly.” She freaked out, started screaming that I was crazy and that you were in danger.

“We had a huge fight. I got pissed, which was stupid. Your mother got bitchy, which was common. In the end, she threatened to tell the media and just about everyone else about the birds. I argued and pleaded and made all kinds of promises, but she wouldn’t give in. Said the only way she’d remain silent was if I disappeared, immediately, and never contacted you again.”

Hawker sighed and stretched over the table to put his huge hand on mine.

“I couldn’t –” He stopped speaking, swallowed and started again, “I couldn’t let her do that, Wilder. I had to let her think that she got what she wanted. So I packed up and left that same afternoon. I honestly thought that she’d calm down, that we’d work something out. Talked to Willy and he thought so too. She never did. He tried so many times but he never got through to her.”

“That’s why they were together that day? He met with Mother to persuade her to let me see you?” I whispered.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Don’t feel bad about that, though. His heart had been bad for years. Didn’t tell you because he didn’t want you to worry, but he knew that he could pass any time, and the doctors said he should have, much sooner. He held on for you, baby.”

I swallowed.

“Okay,” I whispered.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“I don’t get it. She never wanted me. Paolo didn’t either,” I murmured.

Then a thought hit me.

“I haven’t told you about Paolo. He's totally weird, and I don’t know why. He’s friendly and syrupy sweet and says that he’s sorry and we should be family and all kinds of shit. He called just now and faked an impromptu invitation to Marshes. He –”

“Careful, Wilder,” Hawker interrupted. “Paolo Fratinelli might seem like a product using, overly tanned, harmless man. He isn’t.”

What?

“How would you know anything about Paolo?” I asked.

“First of all, my daughter lived in his house. Made it my business to know,” he replied.

Oh.

“It also ties into what your mother found out. The birds, Wilder, they’re not just pets. They can also go places we can’t be in. Places where law enforcement can’t go. They have excellent eyesight, and they know enough about humans to understand what’s being said.”

“Say again?”

“We are guardians, Wilder. We use our birds to keep the world safe. They find out about drug shipments, smuggling, all kinds of crimes, hostage situations... There isn’t much going on in the mountains that the birds don’t know about. They tell us so we can deal with it, and we do,” he said.

“Good thing that you’re a police officer then,” I said weakly.

How much more did he have to share, I wondered. It turned out to be a bit more.

“Sometimes I use my badge,” he said. “But Wilder… sometimes we have to take measures to stop shit from happening. These measures are necessary, but not always abiding fully with the law.”

Say what?

I leaned forward and rested my forehead on the table.

“Wilder?” he muttered.

“My head will explode, Dad,” I said. “It’s too much.”

He chuckled.

“I’m serious,” I said into the table top, and he chuckled again.

“Whiskey,” I murmured.

“Gotcha,” he said and got up to get the bottle.

I got another minuscule splash in my now empty tea cup, and I thought to myself that I’d fill the cup to the brim and gulp it all down when he left.

“Can we take a break, just for a little while? Let this all sink in?” I asked. “I want to check in with Mickey, see how things are at Double H.”

“Things are good at Double H, but yeah, of course, we can.”

“You’ve talked to them?” I asked.

“Mac did,” he admitted. When he saw the smile I couldn’t hold back, he kept muttering, “The guy’s a player, Wilder. There has been a parade of girls –”

“Shut up,” I said sweetly. “It’s my life, and I’m allowed to make my own mistakes.”

“Fuck,” he said distinctly.

He looked so dismayed I almost burst out laughing.

“You should clean up your language,” I chirped and got to my feet. “Break. Phone call. Yeah?”

Without waiting for an answer I walked over to the couch and called Mickey. He picked up immediately and the noises in the background told me that he was in his car.

“Hey, Wilder. I’m in the car and I’ve got someone with me, can’t talk now,” he said.

“Oka –”

“I’m on my way up the mountain, see you in a bit. We have news for you,” he said and hung up.

Well, that was weird.

“That was a short call,” Hawker said as he sat down next to me.

“How did Willy get hold of this house?” I asked.

“His mother was from Norton, so he got it from her. Double H came from Willy’s wife, your grandmother.”

I felt kind of bad not knowing this. Willy had always avoided questions, but to be honest, I’d never pushed for answers. Maybe I should have.

“It’s probably the oldest houses in the village, will cost you a fortune in heating,” Hawker continued.

Oldest house in the village. Who would have lived in the oldest house in the village?

“Was it his house? Vildman’s?” I asked quietly.

Hawker leaned forward and grabbed my hand.

“Yeah,” he murmured, and added, “At least that’s what our legends say, but we don’t know for sure.”

“Are we related to him? Do you know?”

“You are, for sure. I probably have some of him in me as well, from somewhere in the family tree. I guess almost everyone in the village does.”

Oh shit. I’d been in a cave in the mountains with a dead ancestor. How many could claim to have that experience?

I flicked through the images on my phone and was about to turn it toward Hawker when my eyes fell on a pictures of the strange lines the dying man had drawn on the floor.

OAIII>IIIIAI

“What are you looking at?”

I explained the weird letters and lines. He looked at the image and shrugged.

“Don’t know what that means. Some old word maybe? Could just have been him moving his hand around?”

“Okay,” I said.

It had to mean something, I thought. It had seemed deliberately scribbled, and it was very clear, except the A’s that looked really strange. They were kind of small and misplaced, with blurry lines. He’d even missed the line across on one of them.

“Can I see him?”

“Of course, sorry,” I said, flicked backward to the images of the man himself, and handed him the phone. “Here he is. He looked different when I was in the cave, though. More…” I thought for a while, and then concluded, “Alive somehow.”

While Hawker looked through the images, I leaned back and went back to staring at the fireplace. What a day it had been, I thought.

The wall around the fire place was made from stones that were mostly cut into squares, though they weren’t perfectly even. Would have built the house himself, Vildman? Or had he inherited it? His parents had been mentioned in the stories, so he probably got it from them. Then my eyes fell on the stone closest to the fireplace, partly hidden by the wooden floor.

There was a half circle on it.

How odd, I thought, why would they have put some kind of mark like that on it? And a half circle, what did that mean? My eyes swept the wall, and then back to the floor again. When Vildman lived, they would have had different planks I thought. Or perhaps even no planks at all? The stones at the bottom of the walls all seemed to be half hidden so maybe they’d had the dirt floors that were common back then.

Though, if the stones were half hidden, then it wouldn’t be a half circle. It would be a full circle. Suddenly my blood froze, and I straightened, reaching out to snatch the phone from my father.

“Shit!” I breathed as I flicked through the images until I got to the signs he’d written.

“What?” Hawker asked, but I ignored him.

If the stone was marked with a circle, and the “A” he wrote didn’t have a line through it… Could the “O” be the circle on the stone and the “A” an arrow pointing upward?

Had he in fact written “O^III>IIII^I”?

“Shit,” I murmured, letting my eyes glide over the stones. Three stones up, four stones right, one stone up.

“Wilder, what?” Hawker said impatiently, and I ignored that too.

I got to my feet, and walked over to the wall, not letting my eyes leave the one stone that the scribbles had seemed to point toward. The stone was positioned just slightly further out from the wall than the ones around it, but not enough that I would ever have noticed it without the guidance from what Vildman had written.

Then I grabbed it with the tips of my fingers and pulled.

It moved surprisingly easy and it wasn’t as heavy as I suspected because it wasn’t thicker than an inch or two. Behind it was a small hidey hole and in it there were papers.

“Shit,” I breathed.

“Jesus,” my father murmured behind me.

I stretched in and pulled the papers out, gently to not rip them. Then I looked at Hawker.

“Vildman’s scribbles, they pointed to this. He wanted someone to find this,” I said.

Goosebumps were breaking out all over my body, and I shivered.

“Jesus,” Hawker repeated, but then he collected himself. “Okay. Let’s take a look at them.”

It was only two sheets. The first one had a short message in old-fashioned handwriting, and Hawker read it out.

“When you find this, I am gone. My hope is that you are my kin, and that the blood of the fire dragons run strong in your soul. Know that our prophecies are honest and true. Heed the words and honor your heritage. I am Vildman, ruler of the fire dragons in the North. Make me proud.”

I had stopped breathing, and the cabin was completely silent. With shaking hands, I pulled out the other paper and read the words on it out loud.

“Turmoil will reign yet again, unless one from the three avails of her father's mark to bring the world back from the brink of destruction. One is the removal of one. Adorning in the legacy of a shadow that passed is two. Wielding the heart of swords forged in fire is three.”

I stared at the words, reading them again, silently. Then I turned to my father.

“What in the hell does that mean?”

He looked shell-shocked but my words startled him and he laughed.

“Wow,” he said. “No clue what it means, but – wow.”

“What do we do with them?” I asked.

“No clue about that either,” he replied.

Then we heard a car drive up to the house.

“Put them back behind the stone,” I said as I quickly snapped photos with my phone, not knowing why it felt so important to protect the papers, or the words written on them.

He did and had just managed to push the stone back in place when the door was thrown open and Mickey strolled in, followed by a woman I recognized well from the university in Prosper.

“We need to talk to you about the papers you –”

Mickey was immediately interrupted by both my father and the woman.

“Well, shit,” the woman said.

“Hello there, darling,” Hawker said in a slow drawl.

Mickey and I stared at them in stunned silence.

“I should have known you’d be here,” the woman said sourly.

“Live here, don’t I?” Hawker said with a grin.

“Excuse me,” I said loudly, and they turned to me. “Ms. Parks, what are you doing here?” I asked.

Sloane Parks was my history teacher and she’d also taught some of the first anthropology classes I’d taken. She was a tall, serious woman, who usually dressed in drab suits that did nothing for her body. Her hair was always pulled back in a severe knot at the back of her head and in class she used huge glasses with thick black frames. It had always seemed to me as if she was trying to look like a serious scientist, but also trying just a little too hard. Standing there in my little cabin, next to Mickey who would make anyone look small, she didn’t look like a teacher at all. Her hair was loose and the soft brown waves reached almost to her waist. She wore tight jeans and underneath her thick parka I caught a glimpse of a tight cherry colored tank top. I realized that underneath the façade she put up in Prosper, she was gorgeous.

“Ms. Parks,” Hawker snorted, as if her name was perfectly ridiculous when it, in fact, was a rather common name.

“Dad,” I barked.

Ms. Parks made a strange, strangled sound, and I blinked. It was clear that they’d met before, and I looked very much like my father so how she could have missed the connection I didn’t know.

“How could you not see me in her?” Hawker asked quietly.

“Oh,” she repeated and looked at him uncertainly. Then she raised her chin a little. “Well, I just assumed she was Hare’s,” she added breezily.

“Why are you here?” I interrupted.

She clearly knew the rest of my family as well, but I could ask her about that some other time. Right then, I wanted to know what she’d found out about the paper.

“Mary did a preliminary analysis of the paper you gave her, Wilder. She was quite surprised by the result and thought that she’d made a mistake, so she came to me. I did the tests too, and the conclusions are quite astonishing,” she promptly explained.

I guessed what the analysis would have shown, and tried desperately to come up with some kind of explanation for why I would have paper that old. It must also be some kind of special material because paper made from wood fibers would have been destroyed by time. They could have used some kind of seaweed, I thought, but that would be out of the ordinary as well.

“Okay,” was my only response.

“You were right to have it tested. It is very, very old and not at all the usual kind of paper used in that time period. Where did you get it?”

Shit. At least it didn’t seem like Mickey had told her about the stories.

“It was just a sheet in one of the boxes my grandfather had,” I murmured. “I just thought it looked kind of strange, so I asked Mary to look at it. The rest is somewhere at Double H, I think,” I added vaguely.

“Really,” she said and not as a question, making me think that she didn’t believe a word I said.

“Really,” I replied determinedly.

“Right,” Hawker interrupted curtly. “Wilder has had a long day, and her foot hurts. We should leave her for tonight and then we can discuss more tomorrow.”

Clever. That would give me some time to embellish and rehearse my lies before giving them to her.

“Yes, Dad,” I said and watched his face soften. “I could really use some sleep,” I added.

“You can take the second bedroom, Ms. Parks,” Mickey offered, and added casually, “I’ll share with Wilder.”

“No,” Hawker said, not angrily but with no room for discussion at all. “Sloane, you’ll sleep with me, and we can all meet there tomorrow morning.”

“I’m not sleeping with you,” Ms. Parks blurted out.

I stared at her, and the blush that crept up her neck. Did she really think that my father would proposition her, right in front of Mickey and me?

“Good to know, Ms. Parks,” Mickey snorted out. “I think he just meant at his place, though.”

Hawker barked out laughter and grabbed her arm, steering her toward the door.

“This your bag?” he asked, and picked up a bag with huge flowers and butterflies printed on it. It was surprisingly girly, and it clearly wasn’t Mickeys so he didn’t wait for a reply. As they walked out the door, I heard Ms. Parks try to argue, with no success. Then suddenly his bike roared, and my eyebrows went up so high I was afraid they’d get stuck in my hairline. He got her to go on the back of his bike? My serious history teacher was riding behind my badass dad on his cool black cruiser?

I started laughing, and so did Mickey.

“Oh, wow, do I have things to share,” I told him, finally.

Chapter Thirteen

Bird shit

When Hawker and Sloane Parks left, Mickey and I sat down in the kitchen. Then I told him everything that happened the day before, from my meeting with Bozo and Carson to how I’d figured out about Vildman and the prophecy we’d found. We pulled the papers out and read them again, and it still made no sense at all.

When he heard about the birds, and why Hawker had left me behind, he whistled.

“That explains a lot, doesn’t it, Wilder?” he asked.

“About what?” I murmured, focused on fitting the stone back in place.

“You have a tat on your shoulder,” he said.

I nodded because this was obviously not news to me.

“Why a feather?”

I blinked.

“You know why, Mickey. The feather I have above my bed. The one I found in the forest as a kid.”

That feather had been special to me all my life. It wasn’t exceptionally big, but it was soft and shiny, and black as the night. It was beautiful.

Suddenly, I knew without a shred of doubt that it came from my bird. I remembered how Willy had lit up when I showed it to him and realized that he’d known too.

“I have a bird,” I said softly.

“Of course you do,” he said. “This is beyond super cool, Wilder. You get that, right?”

I did get that, but what mattered the most to me was that I knew why Hawker had left me. He hadn’t wanted to, and I couldn’t understand why Mother had fought to keep me when she clearly hadn’t wanted me. But my father had wanted me, and it had hurt him to leave. I could still see it in his eyes sometimes, and when I called him dad his eyes softened, so I knew he’d hurt and even though I felt bad for him, I felt good for me.

We talked some more, but by then I was cross-eyed with fatigue, so we went to bed.

I woke up early and sat on the stone wall outside my little house, sipping coffee. I slept deeply, but when I woke I still remembered my dreams. I’d dreamt about flying.

“Hey,” a voice murmured behind me.

I jumped and held my cup away to avoid dripping coffee on the blanket I’d wrapped myself up in.

“Hey,” I replied, cursing internally as Mac sat down beside me.

I got all tingly inside when I looked at him, but my hair was a rat’s nest, and I wished I’d put some make-up on. Not that I used make-up often, but still.

“I don’t have much time because I need to deal with a sick dog, and I promised to be there first thing. Just wanted to make sure you were good. It was a pretty intense day for you yesterday,” he said but didn’t move to leave.

“Okay,” I said, mentally kicking myself for sounding like an idiot.

I usually didn’t have any problems articulating my opinion, but the sweet look on his beautiful face apparently made me melt into a puddle of stupid.

He touched my cheek softly and got up.

“I’ll be by to see you tonight, okay?” he asked.

I nodded silently.

Then he left, and I sat there wondering if he’d even been there or if it had just been my imagination playing tricks with me. When I’d finished my coffee, I carried the boxes from my car into the cabin. Mickey was up when I got the last one inside, and since we didn’t have much food in the house, we decided to go to my father’s place and mooch breakfast from him.

Ms. Parks was in the kitchen when we got there. She greeted us with a wide smile, but as she continued to put breakfast on the table, she seemed part thoughtful and part annoyed. When Hawker ambled into the kitchen, she glared at him, and he promptly grinned.

“Mornin’, babe,” he drawled and his grin turned into a chuckle when she huffed in response.

“Good morning, Dad,” I said, interrupting their weird behavior.

I’d never said that before, and he’d never heard it before, and the smile he gave me was so sweet my breath hitched.

“Good morning,” he murmured.

Then we stood there, neither knowing what to say. It felt like a huge moment at the same time as it was an ordinary one, and I had no clue how to move on. Hawker moved uneasily, so I suspected that he was just as uncomfortable as me.

“Breakfast,” Ms. Parks suddenly said cheerfully and put a jar of jam on the table with unnecessary force.

The sound shook us out of our moment, and we sat down to eat. I smiled gratefully at her, not sure if she’d understood that she broke up a moment neither of us had known how to handle, or if she’d been eager to start eating. There was a huge stack of pancakes on the table, so maybe she’d just been hungry.

I grabbed the cup in front of me and raised it to get some coffee, but then I reared back.

It was a big, pink cup with purple swirls and a handle painted in silver. It was kind of ridiculous but also very familiar.

“What?” I breathed and turned to my father, but he was looking at Ms. Parks.

“She should know,” was all she said and then she leaned back, sipping from her own cup.

Hawker raised his brows in surprise at her strange words, but I didn’t give him time to say anything.

“I have a cup like this,” I said.

“I know you do. Got it for you,” my father muttered. “I heard from –” he cut himself off and glanced over at Ms. Parks before he continued, “Figured you’d like something like that, that’s all.”

“Okay,” I said weakly.

Apparently, Willy had told him.

“I wouldn’t have thought they’d have something like this in Norton,” Ms. Parks said, but it sounded like she taunted him, or prompted him to tell me something.

“Sloane…” he started, pulled a hand through his hair a few times and then he continued in a frustrated voice, “Got it in Twin City, okay?”

“You went all the way down to Twin City to buy me a silly, pink mug?” I breathed.

“You don’t like it?”

“I love it, Dad. Always did. I wish I’d known I got it from you,” I whispered.

“Yeah,” he said after a while.

Then we had another moment where neither knew how to move on and again we got help from Ms. Parks.

“Right,” she said briskly. “I cooked, and now I have work to do. You can all clean up the kitchen.”

“Will do, Ms. Parks,” Mickey replied.

“For fuck's sake, Mickey. She isn’t ninety,” Hawker muttered. “Call her Sloane.”

I looked at Ms. Parks, and she had a small smile on her face which I figured was an agreement.

“Okay, Sloane,” I said, deliberately drawling out her name.

She grinned back at me and turned to my father, “You wanted to take Wilder and Mickey to see Vildman’s grave?” she said, making it into a question but she immediately left the room without looking back.

Hawker followed her with his eyes and a thoughtful look on his face, but then he snapped out of it, and we cleaned up the kitchen.

Miller joined us just as we were done, and we walked together down the road to a small church, through the graveyard and up a slope until we reached an area where more stones were scattered. Hawker stopped in front of one of them, pointed to it, and murmured, “Look.”

I crouched down to put my hand on the flat stone on the ground. It had one word written on it, though time had smoothed out the surface, so it was hard to see. I traced the name with my fingers and even though I knew that the grave was empty, it still felt huge.

“Vildman,” I whispered.

“Wildman,” a strange voice whispered.

“What?” I asked and looked at the four men standing in a line behind me.

“What, what?” Mickey asked.

“Someone said “Wildman?” I asked uncertainly.

“Your bird is getting closer, Wilder,” Hawker murmured. “I’d guess this was to let you know that it’s sorry for your loss.”

“Vildman has been dead a while, Hawker. I –”

“Not Vildman. Wildman. Willy,” he said.

I jerked. I’d never heard anyone refer to Gramps as anything but Willy, and I’d always assumed it was short for William. Why hadn’t I ever asked?

“Wildman…” I murmured, and when I trailed off, there was a quiet hum in the back of my mind that was oddly soothing.

I looked at the other stones, but most of them were impossible to decipher. Then Mickey called out to me. He was on his knees, and he had a weird look on his face. I crouched down and gasped.

“Vilda and Drake,” I whispered.

“Yeah,” Mickey murmured, and our eyes met.

They were together, still. The girl full of courage and her blue-eyed boy were buried in the same grave. Only their names were carved into the stone, but somehow I sensed that they had passed together. My eyes stung, but I smiled.

“I hope they had a good life,” I whispered.

“Yeah,” Mickey repeated, and I could tell that he was also touched by what we’d found.

I had told my father about the stories the evening before, and he had apparently told Miller because he leaned down and looked, mumbling, “Well, I’ll be damned. Never noticed. Been here many times, always paid my respect at Vildman’s grave. Never knew his daughter was here too.”

I got to my feet and was turning to him when my phone rang. The shrill signal seemed completely out of place, and I answered quickly, without checking the number.

“Hello Wilder,” Paolo Fratinelli crooned.

Yish. What did that stupid man want this time?

“Hey Paolo,” I replied and the three men around me straightened. I hoped that they would remain quiet, and started to walk away, but Hawker immediately grabbed my arm and shook his head. I tried to listen to my ex-father talking about how worried he was about me, and how much he wanted to help me, all the while trying to signal to my current father that he needed to be quiet. Hawker didn’t say a word, but he also didn’t let go of my arm and kept glaring at me.

“Paolo, I’m sorry,” I interrupted, finally. “I have my hands full, I’ll put you on loudspeaker, okay?”

I didn’t wait for a reply, and then Paolo’s voice echoed over the old graves.

“Are you packing up your belongings, Wilder?”

“Yeah, I’m quite busy sorting a lot of things out,” I replied, which wasn’t exactly a lie.

“I just want to help you. It must be so hard for a girl your age to deal with everything that has happened, and managing Double H on top of it all,” Paolo murmured.

My brows went up. I didn’t have to manage Double H any more than Willy had managed it, which was not very much at all. Uncle Andy ran operations as he had done for years.

“Yeah,” I murmured.

“I could help you with that if it’s too much.”

What?

“You have your engineering degree to focus on, Wilder,” he continued. “I could buy the ranch from you? Take it off your hands, so you don’t have to worry…”

He trailed off, and I looked at my father, who looked like a thundercloud and then at Mickey who seemed ready to scream.

“Paolo –”

“No need to decide now, but think about it, Wilder? I just want what’s best for you, and you could live an easy life on the proceeds from a sale…”

“Yeah,” I murmured again, and Mickey grabbed my shoulder, hard enough to push a small sound from me.

“Are you okay?” Paolo asked immediately.

“Yes, of course,” I said, and added quickly, “I’m just carrying some heavy things.”

“I will leave you to your packing then, but please call me back. I worry and want to be there for you,” Paolo said, in that syrupy croon he’d started the call with. “I hope you also will consider my invite to Marshes. Just call me whenever you want to come. Anytime, just call,” he finished.

“Thank you, I’m grateful, Paolo. I don’t know right now, but I’ll call you, I promise,” I said. “Goodbye for now,” I added quickly because it was clear that patience was running out among the men next to me.

Paolo said his goodbye, and I disconnected. Before anyone could say anything, I raised my hand and spoke myself.

“No, I am not selling Double H. No, I am not fooled by him. But yes, I will continue to take his phone calls until I’ve figured out what the hell he wants.”

Mickey looked furious but didn’t say anything. Hawker didn’t hesitate to vent his anger, though.

“Shit, Wilder. He wants Double H for some reason. There has to be something…”

He trailed off, and his eyes glazed over. Apparently, his bird had something to share with him and his eyes narrowed dangerously at what he heard.

“Bird says that he tried once before. Carrie offered to let you come to Norton if Willy sold Double H to Fratinelli,” he murmured and looked at me. “Willy refused.”

Our eyes locked and I wondered what he was thinking. Would he have wanted Gramps to sell the ranch? Would I have wanted it?

“Okay,” he sighed after a while. “We’ll send the birds out to look around Double H, see if they can find what it is he wants.”

He looked at Miller and a silent message passed between them, but then they started shuffling us back down the slope. After a short silence, Hawker started talking about the papers we’d found in my cabin, and I suspected that it was to distract us from whatever it was he and Miller had planned but I let that slide and pulled out my phone to show them the pictures I’d taken. We’d walked almost all the way back to the church when Mickey stopped.

“Holy crap,” he said. “The stories, Wilder? It makes total sense.”

When he didn’t say anything else, I nudged him and said impatiently, “Yeah? Funny, because you don’t.”

“The second paper, the one that seems to be some kind of prophecy? It talks about swords forged in fire. In the stories they mention the swords of the fire dragons, right? Three swords that was supposed to be powerful somehow.”

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Holy crap indeed. My mind tried desperately to remember how they had described the swords, but the only one I could remember was the one carried by the boy called Kee. It had been long, sharp, and there had been some sort of cup with gems on it to protect his hand.

“The sword in the glass cabinet, Wilder,” Mickey whispered.

I pulled in air, realizing that he was right. We had indeed seen a sword like that. In the entrance of the hotel we usually stayed in when we went skiing, there were various things on display. Some changed each year, and there was always a mix of local art, old artifacts from the area and paintings. A few things remained the same each year, though, and the huge glass cabinet with the sword was one of them. Mickey and I had always admired it and had made up stories about it when we were kids, saying that it belonged to a brave prince.

“Yea –” I started but was cut off immediately.

“Explain.”

Hawker was unhappy and not hiding it. I raised my chin defiantly, but that just earned me another glare, so I decided not to fight with him about his rude ways. Instead, I explained about the sword.

“It’s in the resort we always stayed in,” I finished. Then a thought struck me. “Oh. The name of the hotel…”

“Holy crap,” Mickey whispered. “How could we not make that connection before?”

“It’s the one called the Court,” I explained quickly. “Do you think that name comes from the old name of that village? Dragoncourt?”

When I’d said that, I heard a crunching sound and Ms. Parks suddenly stepped around the corner of the church.

“Yes it does,” she said.

I blinked once, and the others seemed equally stunned.

Then she stretched her left arm out and turned the palm of her hand toward the sky. As we watched, a dragonfly came gliding and landed in the center of her hand.

“You weren’t the only ones who kept parts of the dragons, bird-man,” she smirked, looking at my father.

As we watched in stunned disbelief, she slowly raised the hand where the dragonfly rested, and leaned her head back slightly. Suddenly another dragonfly circled her, and then there were butterflies around her as well. She raised her other hand and made a slow sweep in front of her, laughing softly. The animals immediately circled her once and then they flew off, disappearing in all directions.

We stood there at the end of the winter season, with snow on the ground and a sharp chill in the air, watching what should not be possible but still happened before our eyes.

“Perhaps you want to tell me about that piece of paper now, Wilder?” she asked softly.

***

“Good night!” I called after Hawker as he drove down the lane to my house, followed by a line of bikes.

Miller and Kit, whose real names turned out to be Milvus and Kite, were right behind him. Next was the older couple I’d seen in Johns. Their names were Sven and Byrd, and following them was their son Olly. Not knowing bird etiquette, I hadn’t asked them what kind of birds they had. They never asked me, so maybe one didn’t? Of course, I didn’t exactly have a bird, or at least I hadn’t seen it, but I guessed it would be an eagle just like my father’s and grandfather’s.

Sloane was there too, and she was behind Hawker on his bike when they left. It was clear that something had happened between them in the past, but neither of them said anything about it. She kept backing away from him whenever he got close, and it seemed to me as if he couldn’t make his mind up if he should laugh at her or growl.

When we’d all sat down around my kitchen table, I’d brought out the papers Vildman had left in the hidey hole. Sloane wanted them to be examined and archived at the University where they would be properly preserved, but I was worried that a lot of questions about fire dragons would come out of that. Hawker agreed, and after some discussion, Sloane did too, so we decided that they should remain in hiding a while longer until we’d figured out just what to tell about our history.

I’d left Vilda’s, Sannah’s and Troy’s stories in their box at Double H, but Mickey and I shared what we remembered. It was clear that we’d have to read them again, although I was even less interested in having these archived at the University. Sloane argued that we could pass them off as pure fiction, but I still refused. If I could figure them out, then someone else would surely be able to do that too.

There was a lot of discussion about what the prophecy could mean, and we read it over and over, but it made just as little sense to the others as it had to Hawker and me when we first saw it.

“We will have trouble if someone doesn’t use something inherited from a father, which might be the swords of the fire dragons. And the last part is just weird,” Mickey said, finally.

Everyone laughed because of the funny way he put it, but he was, in essence, correct. We really didn’t understand any of it.

The birds had all been sent down to Double H to search the area for whatever it could be that my former father was interested in. Hawker had been in touch with some of his contacts, and there were rumors that Paolo was trying to find investors for a new project related to energy but few details had leaked. The prevailing opinion from Hawker’s contacts was that it was a scam because the other families in Marshes weren’t involved. He had been seen with a few foreigners, though, so they unanimously guessed that he’d find someone stupid enough to back him up financially.

“But –” I started, thought some more, and went on, “He got all of Willy’s money? Why would he need investors?”

Hawker chuckled, and Miller laughed outright.

“Willy the wily,” he said.

“What?” I asked.

Willy had been shrewd, I knew that, but what it had to do with Paolo I had no clue.

“Do you know what the net worth of Willy’s companies was?” Hawker asked, but since it was clear that I didn’t he continued, “Five million, Wilder. Maybe six on a good day.”

My mouth fell open. Willy had owned several companies, and I’d always assumed they were hugely successful. Five million was a lot of money to most people, but it wouldn’t be to Paolo.

“Do you know the net worth of Double H?” Hawker asked then.

I didn’t know this either so I shook my head slowly.

“At least ten times as much, probably more,” Mickey said silently, and he would know because he was a business major and had spent his summer breaks working with his father on Double H for several years.

“Fif –” was all I got out.

I pulled in breath after breath, but it didn’t seem to help. My head kept spinning. I’d known the ranch did well, but I would never have guessed that it would be worth that much. I’d never been interested in working the land and had been happy letting Uncle Andrew and Willy deal with the ranch so I’d spent my summers working as a waitress.

“Wilder?” Mickey said in a voice full of laughter.

“Fif –” I breathed again. Then I shook my head and glared at him. “Why didn’t you tell me? I worked a whole summer as a waitress at that dive where the owner kept touching my butt, remember? If I’d known I would inherit fifty million, I would have spent that summer by the pool.”

Mickey burst out laughing. “We don’t have a pool,” he said.

“I would have built one,” I growled.

“No, you wouldn’t. And that man has never touched any of his waitresses again after the way you got through to him.”

Oh. Yeah, he had a point. I’d broken my boss’ nose on my last day of that job. Accidentally, of course, though I’d made sure to stare him straight in the eye as I told him that I wouldn’t have twitched quite as violently, sending my elbow backward into his face, if he hadn’t had his hand on my behind. I still had coffee with the other waitresses every now and then, and they never let me pay.

“Right,” Hawker interrupted. “Let’s wait and see what the birds can find out. They know that there might be something related to energy sources involved in this so they’ll be on the lookout for mining or some other kind of prospecting.”

Then he got to his feet, announcing that they were leaving and as usual, everyone obeyed, so now I was standing by my door watching their taillights disappear.

I stayed outside a while, thinking about the day and how my life had changed. Just a few weeks ago, I’d had Willy and school. Now I had a house and what apparently was a hugely profitable ranch to take care of. I had friends, a father, more family than I’d ever had before, and I should be ecstatic but I wasn’t. I missed Willy. He’d been there for every major event in my life, and now that everything was changing I wanted to hear his calm voice tell me everything would be okay. “One step at the time, my darling,” he used to say. The memories of him made my chest hurt and tears burned in my eyes until they slowly rolled down my cheeks.

“Shit,” I murmured when I heard the roar of pipes, and then a bike came up the lane.

I dried my tears with the back of my hands and took a few breaths, hoping it wasn’t my father. I liked him and knew that we’d build a good relationship over time, but right then I needed a break from the man. I needed a break from everyone, actually, but with Mickey in the house and a visitor approaching, it didn’t look like I’d get that.

The bike stopped in front of me and even before the driver took his helmet off I knew who it was.

“Hey Mac,” I said. “Did you wait until Hawker left before you came here?” I asked, trying to make a joke to cover for my sadness. It was late afternoon, and I hoped he wouldn’t see the trace of tears on my cheeks in the dusk.

“Sort of,” he grinned. “The calving was difficult, but maybe I stayed a bit longer than neces –”

He stopped talking and his brows narrowed.

“You’ve been crying,” he said.

I sighed. I should have known better than to expect him to not notice, or not say anything about it.

“I missed Willy,” I said.

He put his big warm hand on my cheek and leaned in, looking searchingly at me. Then he whispered, “Okay, baby. Go on up to the clearing, sit for a while? I’ll go in and talk to Mickey, and we’ll whip something together for dinner. I’ll come get you when it’s done, yeah?”

As he talked, he shrugged out of his leather jacket and put it around my shoulders. His thumb swept my cheek, and then he walked inside. I stood there in his heavy, warm jacket, breathing in the scent of him, and wondering how he’d known that I needed to be alone for a while.

Then I walked uphill to sit on the stone wall where Hawker had told me about the birds. I closed my eyes and focused on breathing the same way we did in my martial arts training when we wound down after practice. In through my nose, out through the mouth, over and over. Slowly, I relaxed, and my mind started to wander.

One step at the time, I thought, but this time, I didn’t cry. I found comfort in the advice and started a list in my head of what lay ahead. We’d have to bring Vildman down from the mountain. We’d have to figure out what to do with the stories. We’d have to find out what Paolo was up to.

Okay, I thought. This was not impossible. Hawker could make sure Vildman was dealt with. Sloane could handle the stories. That meant I would have to focus on Paolo.

Okay, I thought again. I could do that.

“Wilder,” a soft voice murmured, and I looked around, but I knew that I wouldn’t find anyone in the clearing, or among the trees. At least not a human.

“You are mine,” the voice said.

“Yes,” I replied.

“I am yours,” it continued.

“Yes,” I repeated.

Immediately after I’d said that, warmth filled my mind and my soul. It felt like sweet honey flowed through my veins and a part of me that had felt empty all my life was filled up to the brim with something… someone.

“Are you there?” I asked.

“Always,” was the reply.

Then a bird swept through the clearing and landed right in front of me. I recognized its black feathers immediately and stretched out a hand to touch them, but then I started laughing.

“You’re not an eagle,” I said, and the bird laughed softly in my mind.

“Of course not.”

“You’re a hawk,” I whispered. “A black hawk.”

The bird cocked its head to the side and watched me with eyes as yellow as my own.

“You are beautiful,” I murmured.

“So are you.”

I smiled. Then suddenly another bird swept in, and when I looked at the falcon, I knew that dinner was ready.

“Bird says his man is coming,” my bird said.

Okay, I thought. So Mac’s bird was called Bird.

“What are you called?” I asked my hawk.

“Bird,” it replied.

Okay. I could see how the future would be confusing if all birds were simply called bird, but if that’s how it was then I would find a way to handle it.

Then I heard footsteps coming closer, and I turned to find both Mac and Mickey stepping out into the clearing.

“A hawk?” Mickey asked. “I thought Hawker said you were supposed to have an eagle?

Mac barked out startled laughter, and choked out, “Hawker is going to have a shit-fit. He’s always going on about how his eagle is the biggest and most powerful of the birds.”

My hawk made a strange sound, but I had to laugh too because the thought of my father’s face when I told him about my beautiful black bird was just too funny.

When we calmed down, I leaned down to touch my bird. It was soft and warm. The others had talked to their birds without using their voices. Could I do that too?

“Hey there, Bird,” I thought.

“Hey back, Wilder,” it murmured, sounding amused.

“Glad you’re here, finally.”

“I’ve always been with you. You were not ready, but I was there.”

“Yeah,” I said, knowing that it had been there but still not as it was now. Not as a part of my soul.

“I need to go and search with the others at the ranch, and you need food, so go eat with your man. He’s pretty,” the bird said and then it took off.

I stared after the beautiful black bird that disappeared gracefully over the treetops.

“I bet it’s a she,” I murmured.

Mac looked at his bird, and then he chuckled.

“You’d win that bet.”

Chapter Fourteen

Lovers

We finished the pasta dish they’d prepared, and I was pretty sure Mickey had not done much of the cooking because it was delicious.

“Thanks for dinner, Mac,” I said, winking at Mickey.

“Yeah, yeah,” Mickey murmured lazily as he leaned back with a content smile. “I did dessert, though.”

“Really?” I asked and raised a brow questioningly.

“Oh ye of little faith,” he murmured, got up, flicked the button to turn on the coffee machine and took a box of chocolate with him back to the table. “There. Done,” he grinned.

Mac was grinning too and seemed to be about to say something when he suddenly froze.

“Wilder, get your phone,” he said.

He sounded strange, and I went into my room to get my phone immediately. I had several missed calls from Mickey’s mom, and as I was walking back into the kitchen, she rang again.

“Gwe –” I started, but she ignored me.

“Mickey doesn’t answer his phone. Is he there?”

“Yea –”

“Give him the phone, Wilder,” she said before I finished my affirmation of Mickeys whereabouts.

Without a word, I handed Mickey the phone. Something had happened at Double H. I’d heard it clearly in Gwendolyn’s voice.

“Mom,” Mickey said and then he was silent.

I watched his face harden and felt my gut clench because Aunt Gwen calling like this could only mean one thing. Something had happened to Uncle Andy.

“Okay, Mom. Hang in there, I’m leaving now. Four hours, five tops, then I’m in Prosper. What hospital?” Mickey said.

He sounded calm, but he had started pacing around my living room and I could see that he clenched the hand he wasn’t holding his phone with. She obviously kept talking for a while, and he listened silently. I walked into his room and tossed what I thought he’d need to bring with him in a bag. He was finishing the call when I got back into the kitchen.

“Okay, Mom. My phone should start working again in half an hour or so, no coverage up here. Call when you know, leave a message if I don’t pick up.”

Then he hung up and handed me the phone.

“The power arm on one of the tractors out in the barn where mom has her storage swung around and hit Dad in his side. Mom found him out there, got an ambulance, and they’re taking him to Prosper. He…”

He trailed off, and I got to my feet, stepped in and held him as he pulled in several ragged breaths.

“He'll be all right, Mickey,” I whispered, to comfort him but also because I had to believe this.

“Yeah,” he murmured. Then he stepped back and looked at me with hard eyes. “Mom said that some of the men had already looked at the equipment. The locking pins had snapped in a way they didn’t like, and they think it could have been rigged by someone. This was deliberate, Wilder. It wasn’t an accident.”

I gasped, but he kept talking.

“Mom is the one who goes out there all the time, to get things. You know how she is, it’s her storage, Dad never touches it because she says he messes things up out there. But she’s unhappy with how things have been with you and all other things that had happened, so she doesn't sleep very well, and dad told her to put her feet up. He went instead today.”

I realized immediately what he implied, but he spelled it out anyway, looking at Mac as he did.

“The arms are always raised and locked. She’s much shorter, Mac. It hit him in the shoulder mostly, but it would have hit her straight in the head. Would have killed her.”

A whimper escaped my throat at his blunt words, but I knew he was right. Then Mac’s arms circled me from behind, and I leaned into him.

“Bird says he was alive when they put him in the ambulance,” Mac murmured. “Says he opened his eyes, not much, but he was trying.”

Mickey pressed his lips together, hard, and then he murmured, “Thanks, man.”

“Go,” I said and handed him the bag. “Wallet, keys, some other things. Call as soon as you know anything.”

“We’ll talk to Hawker, he’ll tell the others. We’ll all be there,” Mac said.

Mickey nodded and started walking toward the door, but I called out to him.

“I mean it Mickey. Anything. Tell Aunt Gwen to call. Tell her I love her, and I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” he murmured, but his mind was on his father, so I just smiled a wobbly smile that he tried but failed to return. “Yeah,” he repeated hoarsely, and then he left.

I would have fallen to my knees if Mac hadn’t held me up.

“My fucking ex-father,” I spat out.

Mac made a sound, but I was beyond caring about anything at all, so I went off on a rant.

“He is behind this. I know he is. Killing Aunt Gwen would crush Uncle Andy. I wouldn’t know how to handle Double H without him. Have no clue. He could have sweet talked me into –”

I stopped talking and turned to stare at Mac. He waited patiently.

“I’m going to Marshes,” I said.

“Wh –”

“Right now,” I continued. “Today. I’ll call him in a little while, tell him the terrible news, say I don’t know what to do. I’ll say I need to get away for a while.”

“No,” he stated.

When I opened my mouth to start arguing, he simply put a hand over it.

“No. It's a stupid excuse, and he’ll know it. You would want to go to the hospital. Go to Double H to try to run operations there.”

He held my eyes as I thought this over. Shit. He was right.

“But you should go to Marshes,” he continued, and my eyes widened. “You’ll have to leave immediately. You need to leave before they could have reached you with the news from Double H.”

He removed his hand, and I whispered, “But what would I tell him? Why would I so suddenly need to go to Marshes?”

The corners of his lips turned up just a little.

“Me.”

What?

“It’s no secret that everyone thinks I’m a player. Hell, Wilder, maybe I’m not a player, but I’ve certainly dated. A lot,” he said.

This wasn’t news to me so there was no need for him to point it out to me. I also didn’t like to hear it.

“It is also no secret that Hawker does not want me near you,” he continued, and I started to understand. “So you call Fratinelli and tell him that you’ve had a huge fight with Hawker. Over me. And we need to get away for a while because you’re afraid we’ll kill each other.”

Hm. That was actually not a bad plan.

“We?” I asked.

“Yeah, babe. I’ll go with you to Marshes. Hawker will be unhappy as all hell that I’m going with you, but he knows I’ll protect you.”

Um, what?

“Protect me?” I asked slowly.

He must have read the look on my face accurately because he backtracked immediately.

“Not protect you as in actually protecting you, Wilder. Bad choice of word. I meant that I’ll help you, of course.”

I was pretty sure that wasn’t what he meant, but we didn’t have time to argue over his idiocy right then.

“Okay. We’ll do it like that. I’ll call Paolo, then we’ll go to Hawker’s,” I said.

Then I picked up my phone and since I was upset I didn’t have a hard time sounding totally distressed through my explanations about Hawker's horrible behavior, and how I needed to get away immediately. Paolo promptly agreed that Hawker indeed was horrible and told me to come to Marshes without delay. I didn’t even have to ask if Mac could come. Paolo invited him.

While I talked, Mac packed my things, and as he handed the bag to me, he grinned.

“Sweet undies,” he said and walked out leaving me staring at his back.

Oh, crap. The man had rifled through my underwear.

“Lock up, Wilder, we have to go to Hawker’s now,” he called and then his bike rumbled.

I got up behind him without a word, glad that it was dark so he wouldn’t see my blush. He laughed all the way to my father’s house, though.

To say that Hawker was unhappy about the news would have been the understatement of a century. He roared so loud a dog started barking outside. Then he fired questions at us about Uncle Andy’s accident, mixing it up with angry orders for us to stay in Norton, and orders that we should go with him to Prosper.

“Dad,” I said pleadingly.

“No. That isn’t going to work this time, Wilder,” he barked.

“Hawker, you know I’ll take care of her,” Mac said, and I could tell that he was getting annoyed.

“No. That isn’t going to work either, Mac,” Hawker growled.

When it looked like Mac would explode, I moved to put myself between them, but then Sloane stepped in.

She put her hands on Hawker’s chest and pushed gently until he looked at her.

“They’re going, Hawk. You can’t stop them, and you shouldn’t,” she said softly. “They do what has to be done, and you should be proud,” she continued. When he said absolutely nothing, she went on with a small smile, “Scared out of your mind. But proud.”

Their gazes held for a long time and then he exhaled.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

“Language,” she said, and it seemed like an old joke between them because his lips twitched.

“Dad,” I said again.

“Yeah,” he said, turning to me but rolling his eyes. “Gray hair, Wilder, that’s what you’ll give me.”

Then his gaze went to Mac.

“A word outside before you leave, Mac.”

I moved to protest, but Sloane took hold of my arm and pulled me away, whispering, “Pick your fights, Wilder. Please let him be the father he hasn’t had many chances to be so far.”

Then she spoke up, “You can stay in here. Wilder and I will get a few of my things for her.”

We walked through the house and into the guest room she was staying in. She continued into the adjoining bathroom and returned with a surprisingly large make-up bag, rifling through it as she walked.

“Here,” she said and stretched out her hand. “Take these.”

I stared at her hand. Oh my god, I thought. Ms. Parks is handing me condoms.

“Um,” I said, and when she made an impatient sound, I grabbed the handful of contraceptives.

I didn’t know what to do with them, and I certainly didn’t want to walk out to my father, and Mac, with my hands full of condoms. She laughed then and gave me a soft gray blouse with embroideries in black and silver.

“Wrap them up in this.”

“Um. Thanks,” I said, feeling awkward when I bundled it all together.

“You think you don’t need them, but sweetie... he’s Mac, and trust me, you might.”

“What happened with you and Dad? Before, I mean?” I asked, changing the topic because I really, really didn’t want to discuss sex with her.

“We slept together, once. A long time ago,” she said calmly.

Oh shit. I’d gone straight from the ashes and into the fire, apparently.

“He left sometime during the night and never called me again,” she said, and I seemed about to elaborate when an angry voice came from the door.

“I called you every fucking day for two weeks. You never picked up. Let’s get the facts right if we’re gonna share our history with my daughter,” Hawker growled so loudly it was close to a shout.

“You did not,” she growled right back.

“I –”

Mac stepped past my dad and grabbed my hand.

“We’re leaving,” he said to the room in general.

They were busy glaring at each other, so I nudged my father.

“Dad, we’re leaving. You need to go to Prosper. You can fight in the car, yeah?”

He turned to me and then he surprised me by wrapping me up in a huge hug.

“Be careful, baby,” he murmured in my hair. Then he let go of me, and turned to Sloane, “Did absolutely call. Let’s get in the car.”

Then he walked out of the room.

“That man,” Sloane muttered and followed him.

Mac and I were still laughing when we arrived at his place. I’d been curious about his condo, but I didn’t get to see much of it.

“The place is a mess, do not move,” was his growly command before he disappeared into a room to the left.

I nodded to his disappearing back and let my eyes move over the living space, slash kitchen, slash dumpster I was facing.

Oh. My. God.

I’d never been particularly concerned with cleanliness. My clothes often ended up in a pile on a chair or on my bed. I left the plates and glasses in the sink and washed them up when I felt like it, which more often than not is never, which meant Gwendolyn was usually nagging about it until I did. I lost things all the time, but I usually found them again. Eventually. Another quick glance around the condo confirmed that Mac likely would be like the embodiment of Antichrist to the pedants of the world.

“Let’s go,” he said.

As he walked through the room with a small bag in his hand, he nimbly avoided stepping on an empty pizza box and skirted around a pile of clothes that I could have sworn was moving slightly.

“I guess you’re not very good at cleaning,” I said faintly, sweeping my hand out to indicate the disaster in front of me.

“I’m probably the best cleaner there is,” was his strange reply. Then he sighed and pulled a hand through his hair. “I’ve done it enough, though, Wilder. From the age of six until I was fifteen and left them, I cleaned my uncle’s house.”

I stared at him, not quite believing what I heard.

“All of it,” he continued tersely, adding in a whisper, “also my cousin’s rooms.”

“Really?” I squeaked.

“Yeah,” he replied.

Without explaining further, he took my hand and pulled me through the door, clearly not intending to continue discussing this. My mind was full of questions, although mostly about what kind of pain I could inflict on that uncle of his, without my father having to arrest me.

Then we continued toward Marshes.

We’d been on the road for hours when Mac pulled over to stop. It was dark, and the small village was still some distance away, but the lights were clearly visible against the horizon. The river had widened, and the inlet was full of islands, but this part was a national preserve, so there were no houses or lights and it looked like a black void.

“Let’s stretch our legs a little,” Mac muttered, and I swung off the bike before he did.

He left the headlights on, and it cut through the darkness around us. I stretched my back and wondered how red my behind would be. His saddle was one of the most uncomfortable I’d ever been on, and it hurt.

We’d argued about our choice of transportation, and I’d lost. For some reason, Mac had insisted that we should be on his bike, and it hadn’t helped that I’d talked about the weather, the fact that it was late, and the size of our luggage. “I’ve got winter tires, Wilder, and we will only be there for a few days,” he said and proceeded to prove his point by tucking our small bags into his huge saddle bags, closing them with a snap.

“Wilder,” he murmured suddenly, and I turned to him because he sounded strange.

“Yeah?”

“We’ll be there soon,” he said.

“Yeah,” I sighed.

“Need to kiss you first,” he muttered.

What?

“Why?”

“They need to think we’re a couple, babe. We need to be all lovey-dovey, but we’ve barely touched each other, and it will all look fake. Also, if we want to look around, then walking off to find some privacy for a few kisses is a good excuse, but someone might see us,” he said.

I wished he didn’t sound so unhappy about it.

“You don’t have to come, Mac. You can drop me off and I’ll –”

He cut me off by pulling me close to him, pulling my hair gently to tilt my head back a little.

“You don’t get it. I want to kiss you. I just don’t like that it’s because we have games to play with the asshat. Wanted you to want it too.”

Oh.

Then he leaned in and put his mouth to mine, and holy crap, the man knew how to kiss. I felt it all the way from my shivering knees to the top of my head. My arms went around his waist, and I kissed him back. I had no clue how long we stood there, but suddenly there was a loud honking sound and a few whistles and cheers. I turned my head dazedly and a car passed by slowly. There were four men in it, and they were grinning widely.

“Woo-hoo,” one of them shouted, and then they drove off into the night.

I looked at Mac, and he was smiling.

“Woo-hoo,” I said. “Who the hell says something like that?”

“Dorks, babe,” he replied calmly, and I snorted out laughter because he was not wrong.

We started walking back to the bike, but I stopped him, thinking that I had to explain.

“Falk,” I murmured, but stopped speaking when I felt his whole body stiffen.

“You don’t want me to use your name?” I whispered.

He was silent for a while.

“I don’t mind. Didn’t let anyone use it for a long time, so it’s weird to hear it, but it’s okay. More than okay, actually. I kind of like it,” he said.

Didn’t let anyone use it? There was much to ask about, but I decided that a parking lot just outside Marshes wasn’t the place for it, so I just nodded.

“I just wanted you to know that I wanted to kiss you too,” I murmured, suddenly feeling like an idiot, wishing I hadn’t said anything.

He used a hand under my chin to turn my face up toward him. His eyes had softened in a way that made my belly tingle, so before I allowed myself to think, I got up on my toes and kissed him, softly and quickly. Then I caressed his cheek, and said, “Come on, let’s go visit the asshat.”

Before he started the bike, he turned to me and smiled. His mouth moved although I couldn’t hear what he said through the helmet, so I just smiled back at him.

The rest of the way to Marshes went quickly, but it felt like forever. I was cold, and since it was well into the night, I was also tired. We passed the gates and we were clearly expected because a man got out immediately, raised his hand in a wave and raised the beam allowing us to enter without questions.

“Follow the road to the main square, then turn left. Fratinelli lives four houses down,” he shouted, and Mac raised his hand in thanks as we kept going.

Paolo must have been waiting for us because the front door opened the second Mac turned off the engine, and my ex-father stepped out, waving and shouting jovially, “Welcome! Come in!”

Mac took my hand and squeezed it lightly. I took a deep breath, and then we entered the house where my stepfather had spent so much time all through my childhood.

“Welcome,” he said jovially. “Oh, Wilder, you look exhausted, my girl. I’m sending you straight to bed. We can talk more tomorrow. Come, this way,” he ordered and started to walk down the large hallway.

We followed him without a word, and I was grateful that we wouldn’t have to sit down and chat with the man when I was so tired I barely knew my own name.

“Here, the guest quarters,” Paolo said, opening a door. “It’s a separate wing, but I warn you, it isn’t very big.”

“Thank you, Mr. Fratinelli,” Mac murmured politely. “We’ll be fine. I’ll make sure Wilder gets to bed, and then if you could let me know where I can park my bike?”

“No problems, I’ll ask one of the men to –”

“No offense, Mr. Fratinelli, but no one rides my bike but me,” Mac stated calmly.

“Of course. If you don’t mind having it outside for the night, then just put it in the small alley beside the house. All garages are next to the gate where you entered, I’m afraid. We rarely use motor vehicles within the town limits,” Paolo said, just as calmly, although not unfriendly. “And please, call me Paolo.”

“Paolo,” Mac said with a small tilt of his head. “It can stay outside tonight, and I’ll move it in the morning. Thanks.”

“I’ll leave you for the night then. Good night and sleep well, Wilder. Bolt the door when you get back inside, Mac?”

“G’night,” I murmured and waved my hand toward him.

I heard his footsteps disappearing down the long corridor as I walked into the guest room to find that he had been right. The guest room wasn’t very big, although it wasn’t very small either, and there seemed to be an adjoining bathroom. I looked around and quickly realized that there was only one bed.

Crap. We hadn’t thought about that as an option, or at least, I hadn’t.

“Don’t worry about it, Wilder. We’ll share. It’ll be fine,” Mac murmured.

“Okay,” I whispered.

Then he put the bags down, muttered that he’d be back, and left. I stood there for a while, looking at the bed. After a while, I heard the bike rumble outside and realized that Mac would be back soon. I went into the bathroom, did my business, and started to look through the things Mac had packed. There wasn’t a nightie, so I decided to just use a tee and was rifling through them when he walked in.

“That’s as far as you got?” he asked.

“Yeah, I was looking for this,” I said, a little too loudly.

I felt silly that I’d stood there worrying about sharing the bed with him when it was big enough for at least four to sleep in and, trying to cover up my embarrassment, I yanked hard on the piece of clothing I had in my hands.

Unfortunately, this was the soft blouse Sloane had given me. When I pulled it out, it got unbundled, and the condoms she had given me flew out in all directions. One of them hit him in the chest, and he caught it with a surprised sound. Then he turned to me with a smirk and eyebrows raised in a silent question.

Well shit.

“Babe?” he asked, and I could hear how he struggled to hold back laughter.

I scrambled around, trying to find the ones he hadn’t caught, and murmured, “Sloane gave them to me, she had a whole bag full.”

“Sloane had a whole bag full of condoms?” he asked slowly.

I tossed the condoms I’d picked up in the bag, decided to ignore any I hadn’t found, and snapped at him, “Not a bag exactly. Jeez. She pulled these out, said you were pretty and made me take them.”

“Right,” he replied and then he started laughing.

It took a while for him to calm down and I watched him, thinking that he wasn’t laughing often enough.

“Go to bed, get some sleep. We’ll use your, um… supplies some other time, yeah?” he chuckled finally.

I got into bed and closed my eyes, mentally trying to find the tired that had been so overwhelming just a little while ago. Hearing the rustle of his clothes as he pulled them off was absolutely not conducive to a rapid descent into dreamland, and when he sat down on the bed to pull his boots off, I couldn’t help myself. I had to peek, just a little.

Then I stared. His back was covered by a huge falcon, inked in black and gray. The wings spanned over his shoulders and the tail followed his spine to end just above his jeans. The falcon's head twisted to the side, and the eye was a bright yellowish brown. It was stunning, and I almost stretched my hand out to touch it, but then he got up and dropped his jeans. I closed my eyes again, but not until I’d gotten a good look at his backside. Then I smiled to myself because I wanted to stretch out and touch that too.

“Tired?” he rumbled as he climbed into bed.

I felt him shifting to the side to turn off the lamp and the room plunged into darkness.

“Yes,” I whispered, and I was.

It had been another long and strange day.

“Come here,” he murmured.

He was on his back, and when I didn’t move, he pulled me closer until I was on my side, resting my cheek on his shoulder. “Sleep,” he ordered gently.

“’Kay,” I agreed.

His body was warm and hard, and as I lay there tucked into his side, I slowly relaxed. He didn’t have a lot of hair on his chest, but the strands tickled a little. I put my arm over his belly and let myself drift off into sleep.

“Wilder…”

The voice woke me up, and it took a few moments for me to understand that it was my bird. I started to move, but she stopped me immediately.

“Don’t move. Listen,” Bird continued.

Then I heard how the door slowly opened. It made a soft squeaking sound that I knew wouldn’t have woken me up. I tried to breathe slowly as if I slept but when I didn’t hear the door close again, I slowly opened my eyes a crack.

Paolo stood in the door watching us. He had only opened it a few inches but there was a dim light coming from behind him, so I could see part of his face clearly. His brows were drawn down low, and his mouth was just a thin line, but he didn’t look angry. He looked thoughtful like he had seen something he didn’t expect and was thinking about the implications of it. Maybe he hadn’t believed our lies? What if he suspected why we really were there? My mind raced, and I decided that I had to do something to convince my former father that Mac and I were indeed lovers.

Mac was still on his back, and I was sprawled over his chest. My hair covered most of my face, and I didn’t think Paolo could see us clearly in the darkness. I moved a little and felt how Mac stiffened.

“Baby,” I whispered as I scooted up his body and swung my leg over until I straddled him.

I let my hands move over his chest, and leaned down.

“Want you,” I murmured, a little louder than necessary to make sure Paolo heard.

“Again?” Mac rumbled, also kind of loudly.

I smiled against his lips. He had caught on, or maybe his bird had warned him too. His hands came up to cup my behind, and I leaned down to kiss him, glad that our first kiss hadn’t been this one. He had been right, earlier. I didn’t want the knowledge that Paolo was watching to taint that moment, and it would have.

We kissed for a long time, and I shuddered slightly as his hands moved up my sides until he buried them in my hair. Then he tugged gently, and I lifted my head.

“He’s gone, and we need to stop,” he mumbled.

“What?” I breathed.

My brain seemed to have thrown out all rational thoughts, and it took a while for me to understand.

“Unless you want to make use of what Sloane gave you then we need to stop,” he clarified.

Oh.

“Okay,” I said, sliding off him, feeling awkward and a little bit embarrassed.

I got down on my side but this time, I turned my back toward him. He immediately turned to his side and shifted his lean body close to mine, swinging an arm around me.

“Not now, baby, and absolutely not here,” he murmured softly in my neck.

“Okay,” I repeated, not knowing what else to say.

He was right, I knew he was, but I still felt disappointed.

“Sleep,” he ordered, just as he had before.

“’Kay,” I mumbled, thinking that I’d never be able to fall back to sleep.

Then I immediately did, feeling safe and warm. My bird was there to watch over me, and Mac would protect me. We’d protect each other.

Chapter Fifteen

A lazy afternoon

Mac was gone when I woke up, and the room was surprisingly tidy. Our bags were semi-unpacked. Through the open door leading to the bathroom, I could see our toiletries on the edge of the sink, and my clothes were neatly placed on the oversized chair in the corner. He’d said that he’d done enough cleaning in his life, but he’d still sorted out our things without waking me up.

When I walked into the huge kitchen Mac was there, sitting at the breakfast bar, having coffee with Paolo. They both turned to me, and when I got closer, Mac stretched out an arm and pulled me close to his side.

“Sleep well, sweetheart?” he mumbled and kissed me just below my ear.

I looked into his beautiful green eyes and remembered the kiss we’d shared in our bed during the night. My cheeks heated which made his grin widen and become wicked. Paolo was watching us, and I knew we had our roles to act out, so I pursed my lips and tossed my hair cheekily over my shoulder.

“Oh yeah,” I murmured, letting my fingers trail his cheek. Then I added a husky, “You know I did, baby.”

Paolo cleared his throat, and I turned to him but didn’t let go of Mac.

“Good morning, Paolo. I hope you haven’t waited with breakfast?”

They both started laughing.

“It’s time for lunch, Wilder,” Paolo said.

I blinked.

“Yeah, baby,” Mac murmured. “I guess you needed to sleep.”

“I suppose I did,” I said.

“I asked my housekeeper to pack a picnic lunch for you,” Paolo said, indicating a bag on the kitchen counter. “I hope that was okay? I thought you might want to walk around in the village, maybe sit by the beach and eat there?”

“How sweet you are,” I murmured, wondering what the man would get out of this arrangement. “I should probably call Double H and check in with them first, though.”

“Absolutely not!” Paolo exclaimed immediately, and I raised my brows. “You were exhausted when you got here, my girl, and I’m sure they can handle the cattle without you. You need to turn off your phone and be lazy for a day or two. Maybe even several days.”

Aha. So he didn’t want me to know what had happened at the ranch.

“But –” I started to protest, but I didn’t put any strength behind it, and he immediately interrupted me anyway.

“I insist.”

“I agree,” Mac added, and continued lazily, “We deserve it, don’t we? Let’s just hang around here for a few days and let everyone else work their asses off.”

“Yeah, okay. There’s so much work with Double H…” I agreed, trying to sound weak and a little bit stupid.

“Excellent,” Paolo said. “I have some business to attend to this afternoon, but you can go anywhere in the village. Everyone knows you are my visitors so they won’t mind.”

His voice was full off glee, and the man actually rubbed his hands. He suddenly reminded me so much of the villains in cartoons I’d watched as a kid that I almost burst out laughing. If he’d had a mustache, I was sure he would have twirled it. I felt Mac’s chest move and nudged him gently. He got to his feet and took my hand.

“Let’s get our things. I turned both our phones off last night, but we’ll probably need to charge them, would you have cables for that?” he asked Paolo.

Oh, clever, I thought.

“Absolutely. Just leave them on the counter when you leave, and I’ll take care of it,” Paolo answered jovially. “Have a great afternoon, and I’ll see you back here later. I’ll have a few guests for dinner, thought it would be good for you to meet some of the people in the village,” he added, sounding fatherly.

Mac murmured our thanks and pulled me toward our room. I smiled at Paolo but didn’t trust my voice enough to say anything. For so many years I would have done almost anything to have what he suddenly gave me. I’d wondered why he didn’t love me, or even like me, and the one time I’d asked if I could come with them to Marshes he’d merely sneered, “Don’t be ridiculous,” and walked away. I’d been six years old, and I’d cried in secret the whole weekend. And now he acted like a devoted step-father. Did he really think that I was so stupid I’d fall for it?

“Wilder,” he called after us, and we turned as he continued speaking, “I’m so glad we found a way to be family. So glad you’re here,” he added, and his eyes were warm and happy.

For a split second, I wondered if I was wrong. Maybe he was sincere. Then I remembered Uncle Andy. A surge of anger swept through me, and I found my voice again.

“Thank you, Paolo. So am I,” I replied sweetly, and nudged Mac softly to get us moving.

The village was small, so the walk from Paolo’s house to the beach took only a few minutes. We’d nevertheless said hello to at least ten villagers on the way, and they responded nicely enough although they glanced curiously at Mac’s long dark hair and even more at me. They all seemed to have the same white blond hair as I did, and they were all tall and built, even the women. I couldn’t help drawing the parallel to how the Waterfolk had been described in the stories I’d read. It was clear that the people in Marshes were just as much descendants of Valerian and Adorabella as the people in Norton came from Vilda and Drake.

We followed the beach until we were some distance away from the houses before settling in on a blanket to have lunch on the beach just as Paolo suggested. The sky was blue and even though it was still winter, the climate by the sea was not as rough as in the mountains, so we weren’t cold. There had been people in the village, but the beach was empty, so we finally dared to talk freely.

“Have you heard from your bird? Is he here?” I asked.

“She,” he replied, and of course he had a female bird too. “And no, she isn’t here, she’s with the others at Double H, looking around.” He stared out over the water and added, “Rider is good she says. I don’t get exactly what’s wrong with him, though, but she says hurt wing and chest, so I suppose he’s broken an arm and some ribs, at least. Still in the hospital and they’ll do something to him that she can’t explain. Surgery I guess.”

I exhaled with relief. I was still angry with Andy and Gwen, but I knew it would pass and I’d never wanted this for them.

“My bird is here,” I said.

“Guessed that. She warned you about last night?”

I squirmed and turned my head away. I had hoped that he wouldn’t bring that up, but he had a way of not leaving things be that was annoying.

“Babe,” he said calmly. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but we should. And I knew what you were doing, and why. It was fast thinking on your part, and we knew we’d have to do things like that when we came here. Don’t let it weird you out, yeah?”

“Okay,” I murmured because he was right. I was making it into something bigger than it needed to be. “What else does your bird say? Have they found anything?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

“Nothing yet. Olly is at Double H to help Mickey, and your girlfriends are there too, to help Gwen so she can be at the hospital.”

“Olly?” I asked.

Of course, Jinx and Mary would be at Double H, but why would Olly go there?

“He’s got a degree in animal husbandry, Wilder. Works at one of the farms outside Twin City,” he replied.

I was about to ask him more questions when my bird interrupted.

“Snow,” she said.

“Huh?” I replied, and I did it silently, which was kind of weird but also something I figured I needed to get better at.

“Snow,” she repeated and continued, “Good snow, good snow, good snow…”

“Hello there!” a voice called out, and I jerked.

A couple came walking along the waterline, and I stared. They were stunning, both of them, and looked somewhat like an opposite version of Mac and me. The girl had long, straight, black hair that reached almost to her waist. She was tall and had the same lanky, long-limbed body that Mac did. The man had longish white blonde hair pulled back in a messy man bun which I usually found a bit silly, but on him, it looked very cool. He was tall and muscular, and his skin had a faint tan even though it was winter. When they got closer, I saw that the girl’s eyes were a sapphire blue so pure it seemed almost as if they were glowing in the sunlight.

Suddenly my bird’s words made sense. This had to be the girl from Norton.

“Snow,” Mac murmured, confirming my guess.

“Falk,” she replied, and I twitched at her casual use of his name.

“That was a long time ago,” he murmured coolly. “I go by Mac now.”

“So I heard,” she replied calmly.

Their eyes held, and something passed between them that I didn’t understand, and didn’t like. Apparently, the blonde man didn’t appreciate their staring either.

“Hey there,” he said, loudly.

When neither of them moved he stretched his hand out toward me, saying, “I’m Dante, and you’re Wilder. Welcome to our village.”

“Thank you, Dante,” I replied and smiled at him.

“I know this is odd, but I still have to say it. Your eyes are absolutely gorgeous,” he said, grinning hugely.

I wasn’t sure if he said it because he meant it or if it was to get a reaction from the other two, and either way, he got one. Mac immediately stepped closer to me and put an arm around my shoulders.

“Mac,” he rumbled and stretched his hand out.

Dante grabbed it, and I couldn’t believe it when I saw how they both squeezed as hard as they could, trying to make the other wince or whatever.

“Jesus,” I barked. “How old are you?”

Snow started laughing, and I turned to her. Our eyes met, and instantly, it felt like something clicked in place. Like I knew her.

Her laughter died, but a broad smile remained, and I returned it.

“Hey,” she said.

“Snow,” I replied.

In my head, I heard the bird again, “Good Snow, good Snow…” Apparently, my bird liked this girl, and I suddenly wanted to ask Snow if she had one too.

“Do you want coffee?” she asked calmly, and I blinked because out of all things I thought she’d say this was not on the list.

It wasn’t unwelcome, though, and when she wiggled a backpack in front of us and raised her brow in question I was quick to motion with my hand toward our blanket.

“Oh yes. Join us for a while?”

By then the men had stopped trying to crush each other’s hands and were watching us. Then Dante made a comment about Mac’s bike, and that was apparently the right thing to say because it took less than five minutes for them to bond over mufflers and pipes. When they moved on to engine tuning, I stopped listening because I was pretty straight forward with my own bike and had never been big on accessories.

From bikes, the talk moved to what music we listened to, then school and work. We had a pleasant time, but it felt like we were skirting around important things. They clearly knew each other well, and I wondered if they were a couple, and if Dante knew about the birds.

“Feel like going for a swim?” Snow suddenly asked with soft laughter in her voice.

I turned to her but her eyes were on Dante. He was watching the water, and the look on his face was weirdly familiar. He seemed to have zoned out a little, and his eyes were focused on something far away, or on nothing at all. Then he shrugged and started laughing.

“You know I love swimming, but the water is a bit too cold, even for me.”

The moment was over, and his calm gray eyes were full of mirth when they met mine.

“I grew up here by the water, and moved straight back after Uni. I can’t even imagine living a mile away from the shores,” he said.

“Like me and the mountains then,” Mac said, but he was watching Snow intently.

The mood shifted again and became tense and uncomfortable in the same way as when we just met.

“Not me. I could live by the waters, or in the mountains, or in the foothills outside Prosper. Maybe even out on the plains, although I have to say that it would be my least preferred option,” I blabbered, trying to ease us back onto safer ground.

“Oh yes, totally agree,” Snow added, apparently trying to do the same. “The plains are just so very… plain?”

I laughed at her little joke even though it wasn’t all that funny. The atmosphere shifted again, and then Mac made some comment about the plains and about Treville. We chatted for a little while longer but then he moved to get up.

“We should get back, Wilder. We have to shower and get ready for dinner,” he said, and added, “Paolo will have guests tonight, and we didn’t bring fancy clothes, but we can at least clean up a little.”

“Fantastic,” Dante rumbled. “We’ll be there and if you’re not wearing a suit, then I certainly won’t either.”

A suit? I snorted at the thought of Mac in one, and he frowned at me.

“I do own a suit,” he muttered, which made Snow make a snorting sound too.

“Only one?” she asked, and I thought it sounded a bit condescending but Dante chuckled.

“Well, I hate them, so I’ll wear jeans and a tee tonight and tell everyone it’s to make you feel more welcome,” he said jovially.

They wore suits to a small family dinner in this little village by the sea? Jesus, I thought. Next, they’d expect me to wear a dress.

***

Dinner was strange. Totally and unequivocally odd and weird.

A huge buffet was served in the kitchen, and small high tables were placed all around the dining area and through the living room. There were no chairs and when I picked up a plate to grab some food I found a plastic claw like thing attached to it. A quick glance around the room indicated that this was so you could hang your glass there. Clever, I thought, although I couldn’t get the glass into the contraption so I decided to stand at one of the tables instead.

When Mac and I had walked into the kitchen, there had been a lot of people there already, and I’d stumbled a little at the sight of them. The men were dressed in dark suits, and most of them also had a vest and some kind of colorful scarf around their necks, tucked into the shirt. The women had dresses, all of them, and for the first time I wished I’d been a dress kind of woman because they were gorgeous. Their outfits were similar in cut, but they had chosen different colors and patterns, and it looked to me like a swarm of happy butterflies fluttered through the room.

Paolo welcomed us, loudly, and told us to mingle. At first, I felt a bit uncomfortable in my jeans and blouse, but my pants were at least black, and the top Sloane had given me was lovely, although it showed a bit more cleavage than I was used to. Mac had faded jeans and a skin tight black tee with no print at all. He’d pulled his hair back in a tight ponytail at the nape of his neck and added a thick leather bracelet to his left wrist. Compared to the strict men in their suits he looked a little wild and a lot gorgeous. I could see the women eyeing him and held on to his hand a little tighter, knowing that this probably was the reaction he usually got wherever he went.

Then Dante suddenly appeared, pulling a smiling Snow along. We laughed all four of us, because they wore clothes similar to ours, although Dante’s jeans had definitely been ironed and Snow had a flowy tank top that looked like a shorter version of the dresses worn by the other women.

Dante seemed to know everyone and introduced us to so many that their faces started to become blurry after a while. His father was apparently the mayor in Marshes, although he was away on a trip, so we didn’t meet him.

They drank a lot of wine, much more than what I was used to, which wasn’t surprising at all since I wasn’t used to it at all, and I didn’t like it. Girls were walking around with bottles, constantly topping up our glasses, so it was impossible to keep track of how much you’d had and I’d started to look around for some water when Mac suddenly twisted me around. Then he swapped our glasses, quickly and since he did it between our bodies, I didn’t think anyone noticed that I suddenly held his empty glass. He winked at me, and I grinned at him.

Paolo’s mother was there, and I thought that she seemed absolutely awful. Her face was pinched, and she had wrinkles that in no way looked like she got them from laughing. She greeted us just as loudly as her son and gushed over both of us, but she had a hard glint in her eyes that I didn’t like. When she scolded her son for not bringing me to Marshes sooner, she did it with a playfulness that I thought sounded completely fake, and I noticed several of the others glancing at her with looks that ranged from surprised to openly scornful.

After several hours of walking around exchanging pleasantries with what felt like thousands of people, that in reality was around fifty, I pulled back into a corner, wishing I could sit down and have a cup of coffee. Mac had swapped glasses with me several times so I hadn’t had much wine, though I wondered what state he’d be in before the evening was over. Everyone was getting slightly tipsy, and laughter echoed through the room. It was a cheerful crowd, and I suddenly realized that I might be tired, but I’d actually had a good time. The people in Marshes were friendly and happy, and I didn’t think it was an act they put on.

“Are you tired, my girl,” Paolo said quietly next to me, and I twitched before I could stop myself.

I hated it when he called me his girl, and he couldn’t quite pull the endearment off credibly which made it even more nauseating.

“I’m so sorry, Paolo, but yes – I’m completely exhausted,” I said, smiling at him. “Maybe everything that has happened has caught up with me, or maybe it’s the wine? I’m not used to it, and maybe I liked it a little too much?”

He nodded and put a hand on my shoulder, making me twitch again, and I took a little sidestep, pretending to stumble.

“You can sneak away and go to bed, Wilder. I’ll explain if anyone asks and no one will mind,” he murmured.

I nodded, thinking that this sounded very appealing. My eyes met Snow’s over the room and to my surprise, she nodded, as if she’d heard Paolo’s suggestion and agreed to it when this was impossible. Someone had turned on music, and the noise levels had immediately increased.

Mac was in the middle of the room, together with Dante and a few of the younger men, and someone must have told a joke because they were suddenly all roaring with laughter.

“I think I’ll do that if you’re sure you don’t mind?” I asked Paolo, and added without waiting for his answer, “I’ll tell Mac and then I’ll make my way to our room.”

“Sleep well, Wilder, see you tomorrow. And I’m keeping your phone away from you for one more day, you need to rest,” he said, patting me awkwardly on my shoulder.

I gave him a small smile, walked over to give Mac a quick hug and to whisper in his ear that I headed to our room. He leaned into me and his lips made a trail up my neck. I shuddered, and he murmured, “No need for a nightie tonight, baby. Want you naked in our bed when I get there.”

I knew it was a line and heard chuckles around us confirming that it had been successful, but my shudder wasn’t fake, and my eyelids dropped slightly at the thought. Then I whispered a husky agreement, walked through the crowd and continued to our room.

Since there was no way I’d sleep buck naked, I changed into one of my tee’s thinking that either we’d need to leave within a few days or I’d need to visit the small store we’d seen in the village because I was running out of clean clothes.

Then I crawled into bed and sighed with relief. My ears were ringing from the noise I could still hear faintly, and I felt muscles that I hadn’t known were tense relax. It took some time but finally I started to drift off into sleep, only to be startled by my bird.

“Wilder, no sleep. Meeting. See with me,” she said.

What did she mean, see with her? I focused on the bird, waiting for her to say something but she didn’t, and I wondered if it was me not listening hard enough. Pushing my thoughts toward her, suddenly my vision changed and I jerked. I had my eyes closed, but I could still see, and I got it then. See what my birds sees, that’s what Hawker had said, and he’d not lied.

In front of me was a ledge outside an open window and I could see part of the room inside. It seemed like my bird was perched there, watching the people inside.

Paolo was there, and his mother stood next to him. I heard movement, but I couldn’t see who else was in the room.

“Told you,” Paolo said and continued, sounding very much like he was boasting, “You said that I’d been a fool, but I was right, wasn’t I?”

His mother frowned and snapped sourly, “You don’t know this, son. You always said she was intelligent, and they could suspect something. They could be here to see what they can find out.”

I pressed my lips together even though I knew that they were somewhere on the second floor and wouldn’t hear me. They were talking about Mac and me.

Then Paolo continued, “It isn’t like that, I tell you. I watched them last night in bed, and she was grinding her crotch against him like a cat in heat. There were condoms all over the room too, they had a friggin’ bag full and had dropped some on the floor even. Besides, her troublesome father would never send her here to spy on us. He’s been yapping for years and years to have her in Norton, so when he finally does, he would never let her risk –”

A man spoke in the background, cutting him off. I didn’t recognize the voice, but I’d met many at the party, so this wasn’t a surprise.

“They might not see it as a risk, Paolo. Does she even know about Farnham?”

I couldn’t hold my gasp back then, and I immediately clenched my teeth hard, but they continued speaking, and I focused on them again.

“She doesn’t know, don’t be stupid. Do you think she’d be here if she did? She’d be in Prosper or at the ranch, scrambling to keep things together. I told them they needed a break and the stupid boy even gave me their phones because they were out of battery,” Paolo sneered, and went on, “Hawker Johns has always been an idealistic fool with a too hot temper. And Wilder has given me puppy eyes all her life, so it’s not a surprise at all that a little bit of fatherly attention brings her to heel immediately.”

I wanted to hurt the man so bad for the callous way he spoke about me, how he had played me all my life, and how he continued to try his best to fool me.

“Can you get her to sell?” the man asked.

“Absolutely,” Paolo answered confidently. “Give me a few more days and Double H is ours.”

“You still need to get one of the Farnhams to sell too. The old man was always so difficult, and it was a clever move to give them that land, I have to give him that,” Paolo’s mother murmured.

Then she turned and started walking toward the door, saying calmly, “You can stay up here just a little while longer. I’ll go down and entertain the guests, so they don’t start wondering where we all are.”

I heard the door close softly, and there was a short silence as Paolo poured himself a glass of something, and took a deep swig.

“We won’t get them to sell without giving them a reason to do so,” the man in the background muttered.

“Of course. That the incident with the equipment went wrong was quite unfortunate, but how was I to know that the woman would be too lazy to do what she always does? We will try again in a few days, maybe with the boy this time,” Paolo said, and my blood froze.

I had to warn them at home.

“Could we use the old ways?” the man asked slowly.

“No,” Paolo replied immediately. “It only works on the people with pure mountain blood, you know that. The boy and his parents wouldn’t react to shellfish, though Hawker might…”

He trailed off, and the world as I saw it through the eyes of my bird tilted on an angle, but then it straightened again. I heard a soft, scratchy sound as the bird got her claws into the ledge to keep her balance and then she moved, quickly. She settled in another window, pressing close into the alcove made up by the thick window frame. I hoped it was deep enough to hide her.

“Close the window, you fool,” the man barked. “Look around, you know they have eyes everywhere.”

I gasped again. Did they know about the birds?

“Nothing here, and nowhere an eagle could hide, it would be too big,” Paolo said from the window. “I don’t think she’s the one anyway, I’ve been watching her for years, and she has no clue. I still believe what they said. It’s the other one.”

There was a long pause, then someone murmured quietly in the room. Just before they closed the window, I heard Paolo again.

“It will be good when we have it all set up. My men think they’ve narrowed down the area to search in and having the crystal will be fantastic. Win-win for us all, making us rich and at the same time getting rid of those damned –”

The window closed, and I couldn’t hear them anymore. Slowly I opened my eyes, and my mind was racing. They knew about the birds. They had found something in the mountains that would make them wealthy, but I didn’t understand what they would get rid of? Hawker and his men? The birds? Me? Then it hit me. They’d try to kill Mickey.

“Bird?” I fairly shouted in my head.

“Yes.”

“You need to warn Mickey. Can you somehow warn Mickey?”

I was frantic and started to get out of bed to do something, anything. Then I growled with frustration because what could I do? I was in Marshes, a little bit tipsy and with no cell phone.

“Do not worry. I will go to Double H. I will get word to father’s bird,” the bird said calmly.

“Thank you,” I whispered. “Tell him we’ll be there in a day or two. We leave tomorrow or the next day at the latest.”

“Yes, good. Leave. Danger,” the bird said. To my surprise, she suddenly made a chuckling sound and murmured, “You are not naked.”

My brows went up, but before I could ask her what she meant, the door opened, and Mac stumbled in, shouting loudly over his shoulder, “Oh, you’d better believe I will. Tomorrow morning too so we’ll have a late,” he snickered, “laaate breakfast,” he concluded and closed the door with a snap.

“What?” I whispered, wondering if the wine had caught up with him.

He straightened, and I saw that this was not in any way the case.

“What’s wrong?” he asked as he sat down on the bed and started to take off his boots.

I told him everything I’d heard and his face got darker and darker. Finally, I was done, and we stared at each other.

“Right,” he murmured. “You sent your bird?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. I get why you did, Wilder, but I could have tried to somehow get word through to them with mine.”

Oh. I hadn’t thought about that, and I felt stupid.

“Don’t worry, babe. You probably did the right thing. Our birds don’t talk to the other birds,” he said.

“What? Yes, they do,” I protested, and his eyes widened, so I explained. “Bird promised that she’d somehow get word to dad’s bird.”

“What?” he murmured. “They’ve never done that before.”

I didn’t have the patience to discuss communication channels between our birds, and it seemed a big deal to him, but it wasn’t to me. Not in the bigger scheme of things, anyway.

“What could they be digging for in the mountains, Mac?” I asked. “Is there something there that could kill the birds?”

His face went hard again.

“Not kill. Cut off our links with them.”

Chapter Sixteen

Snooping

It was dark outside. Mac and I were walking slowly toward the beach with our arms around each other, stopping frequently to kiss and let our hands roam. In the corner of my eye, I noticed movement and knew people were watching, which was exactly what we wanted.

The day after the dinner party had been surprisingly uneventful, considering what I’d heard. We had breakfast late, and it had been hard to pretend friendliness toward Paolo, but I thought that I pulled it off well enough. Mac was quiet, though when Paolo asked him if something was wrong, he smiled ruefully and asked for some aspirin, blaming the wine from the evening before. After we’d eaten, Paolo excused himself, saying that he had business to attend to and that we’d have a quiet dinner in the evening. I stopped him before he left the room, and asked if we could to get our phones back. He protested, but I held firm, saying that I needed to check in with school, and eventually he gave them to us. They had been fully discharged, but he handed me a cable and plug and apologized for forgetting to charge them. I just shrugged and smiled at him as if it didn’t matter, which it didn’t so that part wasn’t hard to fake.

We took a long walk in the afternoon, just Mac and me, following the river away from the village until we were completely surrounded by trees. The area was beautiful with small islands dotting the inlet and trees lining the river. As if in an unspoken agreement, we didn’t talk about anything that had happened at first. Instead, we talked about simple things which in reality meant that we talked about us, and the more we chatted, the more I realized that we were made up the same way. Not at first glance perhaps, but the core of who we were somehow clicked.

Mac spoke more about himself in those hours than he’d done before, and even though it was short snippets of his life, shared as memories or funny anecdotes, it gave me enough to piece together a picture of how he’d become the man he was. I found myself again wanting to hurt his uncle and the rest of that family, but he seemed to have come to some sort of peace with them. He seemed more outraged about my mother, and the way she had been, which I thought was endearing but totally unnecessary. I’d had Willy, I explained, and he nodded, but I could see that he didn’t agree with me.

“Babe,” he said. “My mother died which meant that the choice of what kind of mother I’d have was taken out of her hands. Your mother had that choice and the way she played her hand was wrong. Stupid, inconsiderate and just plain wrong. You get that, right?”

“Of course I do,” I replied. “But Mac… I had a choice too. I realized years ago that I could walk through life being pissed at her, letting her actions sour my life and taint who I am. Or I could choose to let her go. Let myself be the person I wanted to be, without bitterness.”

He watched me calmly, but I could see that he was thinking this through, so I added, “Believe me, it wasn’t as easy as it sounds. It hurt. But it was necessary and, I think, healthy.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “I guess I did the same, sort of. Never thought about it like that, though.”

We were silent for a long while and then he suddenly stretched out to touch my cheek softly.

“When we are back home, will you have dinner with me?”

Oh yes, I absolutely wanted that, but I didn’t want to seem too eager, so I replied a little bit cheekily, “Will you clean your condo before cooking for me?”

His eyes lit up with laughter then.

“Figured I’d just take you out for pizza or something, but yeah... For you, Wilder, I’ll make an effort,” he said, and I smiled.

“Then yes. I would love to have dinner with you, Mac.”

My insides tingled, and I grinned at him.

Then we promptly got into a huge fight because we started talking about how to deal with the things my bird had shown me. Mac started it off by highhandedly announcing that after I’d gone to bed, he would snoop around to see what else he could find out. I told him that he would in no way do something like that. My plan was that he would drink wine with Paolo, I would again blame fatigue and then swiftly not go to bed and instead snoop around to see what I could find out. He immediately protested and unwisely declared that he had promised Hawker to keep me safe and that I would stay in our room, so he knew where I was.

Keep me safe? He wanted to know where I was? What a dickhead.

That led to a lot of yelling, at first on my part, but soon enough his voice was close to a roar. After a while, I got fed up and decided to end our argument, and maybe make a small point at the same time, so I took a quick step forward and swung him around, using the strength in my legs and bumping him with my hip to add leverage.

He landed on his back with a loud oomph. I got on top of him, blocked one of his arms with a knee and made a fake punch toward his throat.

“Protect me?” I smirked.

He glared at me but slowly the anger on his face was replaced by humor. Then he swung us both around, and he wasn’t trained in martial arts but had clearly been in fights before. He was also a lot stronger than me. I found myself on my back, but he cushioned my fall with his arms and landed on top of me, somehow managing to keep most of his weight off me.

“Babe,” he chuckled.

I scowled at him even though it was hard to stay mad because he was so clearly amused and us rolling around on the ground like little kids were kind of ridiculous.

“Compromise?” he asked gently, surprising me.

I hadn’t thought he had that in him, but he apparently did so I nodded.

“We pretend that we want privacy and head down to the beach with some blankets and pillows. Then I head back to the house to look around, and you look around in the village?”

I thought about that for a while.

“I should go to the house? It’s a bigger risk to be seen there, but if I meet someone I could just say that I was curious about the house my mother spent so much time in?”

“No. Bird is here and will be on the lookout. She can’t talk to you so can’t warn you, but she can warn me,” he said immediately.

He had a point, and I figured I had to give in.

“I don’t like it at all, but yeah. Okay. That’s how we do it,” I grumbled.

Suddenly he kissed me, and my whole body softened, melting into him. He was on his elbows, and one of his hands was behind my neck, tilting my head back just a little. I wrapped my arms around him, wishing he didn’t have his heavy leather jacket on so I could caress the beautiful falcon on his back.

After a while, he pulled back and murmured, “Jesus, Wilder. Kissed so many girls in my life, but none of them tasted like you. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of your sweet mouth.”

I blinked, not knowing what to do with the words he just gave me. Hearing him talk about girls he kissed while I still had the taste of him in my mouth was just wrong, but at the same time, it sounded like he was planning to build something that lasted with me and I wanted that so much.

“Okay,” I said and mentally kicked myself for how inane I sounded.

“Okay,” he chuckled, apparently finding my confusion amusing.

Then he kissed me lightly, pulled me to my feet, and we walked back to Marshes to have dinner with Paolo and set our plan in motion.

And there we were, strolling toward the beach, carrying blankets and pillows. Mac had charmed the housekeeper into giving him several candles, and Paolo had winked as he handed me a bottle of sparkling wine, saying that he would go to bed early but that the back door would be unlocked.

As soon as we were out of sight, we walked faster, hand in hand until we were some distance away from the houses. A shiver passed down my spine, and I listened carefully in case someone was following us but I heard nothing. The sky was dark with heavy clouds and the evening breeze had settled, so the night was completely silent, almost as if it was holding its breath. We turned away from the beach and found a secluded spot in the dunes. I spread a blanket out and tossed the pillows in a pile on it while Mac placed the candles in the sand. Still without talking, we walked back toward the village. The only way to enter was via the beach or through the main gate, so when we approached, we turned back down on the beach.

We stopped when we reached the fence. Mac squeezed my hand and leaned his forehead to mine.

“Careful,” he breathed.

“You too,” I replied softly.

I felt him nod, and then he disappeared into the darkness. I stood there for a while, listening but not hearing his footsteps. Then I pulled out a black bandana Mac had given me and covered my hair. We couldn’t do much about our pale skin, but we’d both dressed in black jeans and tees and left our jackets by the blankets.

We had picked out a few houses that I would approach. My goal was mostly to find out who met with whom, and if I could hear anything then it would be a bonus. Mac had told me sternly to not try to get into the houses, and I’d laughed then. That would be burglary, of sorts, and I was reckless sometimes, but I was certainly not that stupid.

There were no lights on in the first house. I looked at it from a distance but decided not to approach it because a dark house meant I couldn’t see if anyone was standing inside looking out. Instead, I skirted around a few houses until I got to my second goal from the back side. The lawn was muddy, and I walked carefully along the fence to leave as few footprints as possible. There was no need for me to walk all the way up to the house, anyway. It was old, like most of the houses in Marshes seemed to be, and the windows were small, but they’d remodeled the side facing the garden, and put in huge floor to ceiling sliding glass doors. They had several lights on, and inside a man and a woman was standing, closely together. Then he grabbed her, and they started kissing. I raised my brows when I saw them. The man had introduced me to his wife at the dinner Paolo had held, and it hadn’t been the woman he kissed so passionately. She turned around in his arms, and his hands came up to cup her breasts, and I recognized her. Holy cow, I thought. The man was making out with his sister-in-law.

I backed off quickly because he had started to unbutton her shirt and I did not need to see more of that.

My next house was the last one I’d go to, and it was the Mayor’s, Dante’s father’s, house. It was supposed to be empty, and at first glance, it seemed that it was. Since it was dark inside I walked closer but then I saw movement in the shadows inside and quickly stepped to the side but not backing away. As I watched, Paolo strode through the room. It seemed to be the Mayor’s study, and Paolo was clearly familiar with it. He walked straight to the large desk, pulled a few papers out of his pocket and started to place them seemingly randomly in the drawers. He didn’t look at the contents of the desk but focused on tucking his own sheets here and there among other official looking papers. Then he stopped and looked around. I held my breath, but after a while, he straightened and walked out of the room again and with a heart that was pumping wildly I backed away.

When the back door opened slowly, I backed even further away until I was in the garden of the smaller building next door to the Mayor’s house. The sounds of footsteps seemed to echo through my mind, and as they disappeared, I hoped that the bird would warn Mac that Paolo was on his way home.

I decided to move back to the beach and wait for Mac, so I turned, and then I froze. Apparently, Dante lived next door to his father because I could see him through the windows of the back door. Snow sat at the kitchen table, and they seemed to be arguing. Dante was moving around agitatedly, and suddenly Snow got up too, approaching him and poking him in the chest repeatedly. He turned his eyes toward the ceiling, and no sounds reached me, but I could still feel his growl echo through the night.

Suddenly a bird shrieked, and then another one.

I straightened and as I watched, Snow’s head snapped up. Oh, yeah, I thought. This girl had a bird too, and that bird had just conveyed some kind of message to her. She turned her eyes toward Dante and my gut clenched. Her bright blue eyes were wide and frightened.

Something had happened to Mac. Two birds had shrieked, and one was Snow’s, but the other one? It had to have been Mac’s falcon.

Not caring if anyone heard, I turned and ran toward the beach. If Mac could, he would make his way there. If he couldn’t make it there… I didn’t want to think about that so I focused on getting back to our blankets as quickly as I could.

Mac wasn’t in the dunes, but I had been running full speed so I’d give him a few minutes to reach me and then I’d gather up our things and go to the house, figuring out some kind of lie before I got back. I lit a few candles while I waited and then without any sound, he was there. Before I could say anything he fell down in the blanket and pulled me with him.

“Hurt. Blanket on top of us. Quickly,” he wheezed.

Throwing the second blanket around us, I felt him tugging at my clothes and I raised my hands to let him pull my top up and off. Then he tried to remove his own but failed and fell back on the blanket with a grunt. Slowly I sat up, straddling him, and carefully I removed the black material.

He had a long cut from just below his left armpit and all the way down to his hip. Beside it, there were two smaller puncture wounds, and he seemed to have a hard time moving his left arm.

Oh. Shit. This was not good.

“What are you talking about?” a loud voice said not far away from us, and my eyes met Mac’s in the soft light.

“I don’t think they want to be disturbed…”

The voice came through the darkness again, and I recognized it then. Dante.

Quickly I leaned down and pulled the blanket up to cover us, but only partially, up to my waist. Knowing our pale skin would show clearly in the darkness, I twisted around to pull up Mac's injured arm until his hand was at the nape of my neck.

“Hold on to my hair,” I breathed into his mouth and felt him nod slightly as I leaned in closer and started kissing him, pressing my chest against his.

When we heard footsteps next to us, I raised my head to look straight into Paolo’s pale, icy blue eyes. Another man stood next to Paolo, scowling ferociously. I didn’t recognize him, and I would have if I’d ever met him. One could say that he was simply a shorter version of Paolo Fratinelli, but it looked really weird seeing them next to each other. He was at least a head shorter than Paolo, although just as wide across the shoulders, and even more muscular. It looked like someone had somehow pressed his body together from above. Other than their height, they could have been twins and it occurred to me that maybe they were.

The man turned a little, and I noticed that one of his eyes was swelling up. Shit, I thought. Was this the man who had hurt Mac?

“A little privacy maybe?” Mac asked, breaking the silence.

He sounded completely normal, even humorous as if he had no worries in the world except getting me out of my pants.

“Paolo,” I gasped, swiftly covering us with the blanket. “Um, what are you…” I trailed off and looked away, trying to look embarrassed.

“There was a break-in at my house,” Paolo said, looking at us with narrowed eyes. “We thought you might have seen something?”

“What?” I gasped and moved as if to stand.

“Uh, Wilder,” Mac murmured. “Don’t get up.”

“Why not,” the strange man growled, and I almost gasped again.

That voice was familiar. He’d been in the room talking to Paolo and his mother the evening before.

“Yes,” Paolo said calmly, “I think you should get up, both of you.”

Then Dante suddenly started laughing, and both men turned to him, not looking happy.

“Not a good time to get up?” he asked Mac with a glint in his eyes.

“Not really, no,” Mac replied ruefully.

“For Christ’s sake,” the short man growled. “It’s not like we haven’t seen people fu –”

“Francesco,” Paolo interrupted him quietly. “No need to be crude.”

“You all need to go home, and we’ll talk about this tomorrow,” Mac suddenly said, and I shuddered when his voice suddenly slid through me like warm honey.

“Wilder, I’m sorry. We were mistaken, and I apologize. We’ll talk about this tomorrow,” Paolo said immediately and started to move away.

The man called Francesco followed him, but Dante remained where he was until they had disappeared.

“You’ll be okay?” he murmured, staring intently at Mac.

I blinked. He hadn’t obeyed like the other two. Then I remembered what the old stories had told about Drake’s voice that forced obedience. It worked on everyone except his mate and the Waterfolk. Apparently, Dante was more Waterfolk than Paolo.

“Yeah, thanks,” Mac whispered but his voice was hoarse, and he sounded exhausted.

Dante’s eyes came to me, and I smiled a little but didn’t say anything, mainly because I had no idea what to say. He nodded and walked away.

As soon as Dante’s footsteps had faded, I got to my feet, picked up our tee’s and shook them to remove the sand.

“Don’t talk,” Mac breathed. “Voices carry across the water.”

He was still on his back, and it worried me that he hadn’t moved. I ran down to the water and dipped my tee in the water. Then I went back to Mac and started to clean out the bigger wound, moving the candles closer so I could get a good look at it. There seemed to be sand or some other dirt in it, so I ran down to the water several time to wash out the tee. Finally, it seemed clean. Then my eyes fell on the sparkling wine that Paolo had given us. I knew that alcohol would be a good antiseptic, and the wine was perhaps not strong enough, but I decided that it wouldn’t hurt so I opened it and started to pour it over Mac’s side.

He grunted when the liquid hit his wound, but that turned into a chuckle.

“You’re dousing me with wine, baby?” he murmured weakly.

“Better than nothing,” I replied and started to pat him dry.

The long wound wasn’t deep, and it had bled as I washed it but I pressed his tee to it, and the bleeding mostly stopped after a while. The two puncture wounds were red and looked a little swollen, but all I could do was hope that they hadn’t hurt anything vital because there was nothing I could do about them.

“Let’s go back to the house. I’ll start up the phone and pretend that I just heard about Uncle Andy. That’ll give us a good excuse to leave immediately, and we’ll take your bike, drive through the night. Prosper is just a few hours away, I’ll get you to a hospital, baby,” I whispered.

“Need a few hours, Wilder. Can’t hold on,” he murmured, and continued weakly, “I don’t get it. Shouldn’t be so bad. He wouldn’t have hit anything vital. The knife was short, and I turned, so it'll be mostly skin and fat. Twisted my shoulder, though.”

“Okay. Yes. We go back to the house, and you can rest in bed until early tomorrow morning. I’ll keep watch, and if you get worse, I’m calling Hawker. If you’re okay, then I’ll drive you out of here tomorrow morning.”

He was quiet while I gathered up our things and got him into his tee and jacket. When I pulled my own tee back on, I shuddered from the cold but kept going. The blanket we’d been on had a few stains, but I poured the rest of the wine on it and rubbed it with sand, hoping that it would be good enough to get us into our room where I could wash his blood away.

Then we started to make our way back to the house. When we approached, I felt Mac using his good arm to put his other hand in my back pocket. When I opened the door, he squeezed my behind slightly and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Best way to lean on you,” he slurred.

I started laughing, hoping that he’d deliberately made his voice sound that way to pretend that he was drunk.

The house was dark and we walked quickly toward our room. When we were almost there, Mac suddenly stumbled, but I swung him around and up against the wall, dropping the empty wine bottle on the floor with a loud thud. At the far end of the corridor leading to the guest wing, a shadow moved slightly.

“Oopsie,” I giggled loudly and stumbled into Mac.

Then I started rubbing myself against him and felt how he put his good hand in the other pocket of my jeans. Then he used his hands to grind my crotch against his own

“Mac?” I said breathlessly.

“Baby,” he grunted, “You’re killing me with the sexy.”

My eyes went wide. You’re killing me with the sexy? What in the hell kind of line was that, and had it actually ever worked for him? I giggled quite loudly, and my laughter was in no way fake.

“Come, bed,” he murmured hoarsely, and with our arms around each other we stumbled into our room and closed the door.

Mac immediately sank down on his knees, and I scrambled to catch him.

“Bed,” he said.

“Clothes off first, Mac,” I whispered. “Come now, I’ll help you. Jacket and tee off, then you can lie down, and I’ll do the rest.

“Okay,” he agreed and using what seemed to be his final strength we got him into bed.

He fell into a deep sleep immediately. I knew I had to keep watch and there were also things to prepare, so I spent most of what was left of the night washing the blood from our clothes and the blankets, packing our clothes, and planning how to get us away from Marshes without raising suspicions.

Sometime during the night, Mac started getting a fever, and it seemed to go up and down all through the night. I almost called Hawker, but Mac wheezed out an order for me to wait a while longer. I suspected that my father would come charging in if I called, bringing some of the others and causing more trouble for us, so I reluctantly decided to wait. Finally, the darkness shifted into a dull gray, and as soon as I could see the contours of the houses clearly outside the windows, I shook Mac’s shoulder gently to wake him up. He looked at me with eyes that were unfocused and full of pain.

“I need a hospital, baby. We need to leave,” he murmured.

“Will you manage?” I asked.

I tried frantically to come up with some kind of lie I could tell Paolo, and I was furious with myself for holding back and not calling my father.

“Yeah,” he grunted. “I’ll manage to get up, but I won’t be able to use my voice. Not enough strength for it.”

“Okay,” I said, trying to sound calm and in control. “If you can walk out of here then I’ll do the rest.”

With some effort, we managed to get him into his clothes but when we were done, he was breathing heavily, and there was a frightening rattle in his chest.

I had to get us out of Marshes, and him to a hospital in Prosper.

Chapter Seventeen

Gigantic Lobsters

“Paolo!” I shouted as I ran from our room and into the kitchen, waving my phone. Not giving him any time to reply, I continued, “I started up my phone this morning. There has been an accident at Double H, we have to leave. Uncle Andy is hurt, and we have to leave,” I yelled, hoping that I sounded desperate.

“How awful, Wilder,” Paolo murmured as he got to his feet. “Is he all right?”

“I don’t know, Paolo,” I moaned. “He’s in a hospital in Prosper. We have to go. Mac is packing up our things, and we’ll leave immediately.”

“Don’t you want to –”

I gave him no chance to offer anything. With Mac in such a horrible shape, I needed to get us out of there quickly, so I kept moving through the kitchen.

“I feel awful, having such a fantastic time here with you and Mac and all this time Uncle Andy could have died!” I wailed.

“You shouldn’t –”

“I have to get Mac’s bike, I’ll be back immediately,” I shouted over my shoulder as I ran through the front door.

I got the bike to Paolo’s house and rushed back in again. Mac was already waiting in the kitchen, and I stopped, surprised to see him there. He was a bit pale, although we didn’t have much color normally, so I didn’t think that Paolo noticed anything out of the ordinary. His jaws seemed clenched together, but his eyes were calm, and he moved his left arm a little turning his hand, making a gesture for me to come to him.

“We are so grateful, Paolo, so very grateful for your hospitality. I hope you will invite us again,” I said as I walked over to Mac’s side.

“Of course,” he murmured and then his eyes slid over Mac, assessing him. “You are both welcome, any time you wish to come.”

“Thank you, we appreciate it,” Mac said and stretched his right hand out to shake Paolo’s.

I felt how he inhaled slowly, held his breath, and then slowly raised his injured arm to put it around my shoulders.

“Let’s go, Mac,” I said. “I am so worried about Uncle Andy.”

Paolo bent down to kiss my cheek, still watching Mac carefully. Then we walked through the front door. Outside, Dante and Snow were inspecting Mac’s bike.

“Sweet ride,” Dante grinned.

“Very cool,” Snow chimed in, turning to me, “Do you get to drive it?”

“Sure,” I said casually as if I’d been out on his bike tons of times.

She giggled, and it sounded very unlike the girl we’d met before. Dante turned away, and I saw how he pressed his lips together, but before anyone said anything, Snow continued.

“Are you man enough to go behind your girl, Mac?”

He snorted but didn’t say anything. I felt him shiver slightly and knew that we had to leave within minutes or else he would drop.

“I thought you wouldn’t go behind me, but maybe I was wrong?” I taunted him, and the tightness in his face eased off a little when I continued, “Will you let me drive now, Mac?”

“Babe,” he muttered.

“Fantastic! I’ve always admired a man strong enough to let a good woman lead the way,” Snow chirped, again in that bubbly, giggly voice that didn’t seem like hers.

“This I have to see,” Dante chuckled.

I didn’t know why, but they were helping us, so I smiled at them as I snapped the lock on one of the saddle bags just as Mac closed the other.

“Let’s go,” I said, swung my leg over the bike and started it up.

Mac got up behind me without a word, and I let the engine roar a few times, making a show out of wiggling my eyebrows at Snow and Dante. Then I smiled at Paolo and rolled off, rounded the square in front of the house and made my way out of Marshes, waving happily at the guard at the entrance as we passed.

I was about to turn onto the highway when Mac leaned into me.

“Not the highway. Bird says no. Left and then small roads by the sea,” he whispered hoarsely.

I nodded and turned away from the highway, following the small road along the beach. Mac was trembling behind me, and I felt how his injured arm fell off my leg where he’d been resting it, so I slowed down.

“Can you manage?” I shouted over my shoulder and felt him nod, but he didn’t reply.

It would take us longer to drive this route, but if the bird had told him there was danger on the highway, then this was the road we would take. When the paved road turned into gravel, I started to re-think my decision, and I slowed down until we stopped. Then I turned off the engine.

I could hear Mac’s ragged breaths clearly in the silence and twisted to look at him. He was completely gray in his face and seemed to have a hard time keeping his eyes open.

“Falk,” I whispered, and his lips twitched little as if he was trying to smile.

“I’ll manage, Wilder. Keep going on this road for a little while longer, then you can get back on the paved road and hit the highway south of Prosper.”

I held his gaze and turned to get us moving again when a bird shrieked. I turned, expecting to see Mac’s Falcon, but it was another bird circling us. One that I recognized well. It was the bird that had been in the forest, showing me to my cattle when they’d been poisoned.

Suddenly the bird turned and flew out over the water, and then it dove, straight into the ocean. It came up again after what felt like forever, holding something in its feet. Then the falcon was there, and both birds made a huge turn in the air above us, came down low and the strange bird dropped what it had picked out of the ocean next to the bike.

I sat there staring at the old and mostly rusty remainders of an old sword. Most of the blade was gone, and part of the handle. The rounded part supposed to protect the hand was intact, though, and through the rim there was a line of bright blue stones.

What was left of one of the three swords of the fire dragons lay there, resting on the gravel right at my feet.

I looked around, but the birds were high in the air, and I turned to Mac.

“What the hell?” I whispered.

“I’ll be damned,” he replied, swallowed and went on, “so she did it after all.”

“What?” I asked.

“Snow,” he said but it came out slurry, and I could see that he was running out of strength, and fast, so I bent down and grabbed the sword.

As I twisted backward to tuck it into one of the saddlebags he murmured, “Osprey, Wilder. That was Oz’ bird. Her father’s bird. She said she didn’t want –”

Then he slumped forward, and I had to grab hold of his jacket to keep him on the bike.

“Shit,” I hissed, started up the bike.

He wasn’t unconscious, but I could tell that he had to fight to stay awake so, holding his arm around me with one hand and driving with the other, I continued along the small road by the beach. It felt like it went on forever and as I drove, I remembered Sannah, and how she had ridden along this beach with her man Kee behind her, injured and weak. Jesus, how strong she must have been, I thought. I had our birds, a fast bike, and a hospital at the end of where I was going. She’d been all alone on a horse, chased by her enemies and not knowing where to go, and still, she’d kept pushing forward. She hadn’t given up, never even considered defeat, so I decided that I wouldn’t either. I would get Mac to the hospital, and he would make it.

When the gravel turned to paved road, I increased the speed as much as I dared and kept going without stopping until I swung up in front of the emergency entrance. I’d driven around Prosper and aimed for the hospital at the northern part of the city. This was the only one I knew the way to and it was also where they would have taken Uncle Andy so I hoped to find some of my family there.

When I got off the bike, Mac fell forward but he was still conscious, so I pulled at him, begging him to make one last effort, shouting for help at the same time.

Then staff surrounded us, a gurney was brought out, and Mac was hoisted up on it. They fired questions at him, and at me, as we moved into the hospital.

I kept it simple and just told them he had puncture wounds on his side but that we didn’t know why he was so sick.

“Is he allergic to anything?” a man in a white coat asked calmly, and I blinked.

Before I could tell them that I didn’t know, Mac answered, but it was just a low raspy whisper, and they were busy moving us forward, so they didn’t hear.

“Shellfish,” he rasped out. “Shellfish,” he repeated but then his rattling breath seemed to still. He jerked, and I grabbed his hand, and then everything around us suddenly went into overdrive.

“No pulse!” I heard someone shout.

The gurney was yanked forward, and everyone started running, and I lost the hold I had on his hand. Without slowing down, they pushed him through two swinging doors, and a nurse held me back, shouting at me that I couldn’t follow them. I fought her at first, screaming his name over and over, trying frantically to go with him. Then I felt two powerful arms grabbing me from behind, holding me tight to a strong warm chest, and a familiar voice murmured my name.

Hawker.

My knees went out underneath me then, and I started crying.

“Dad, he’s dying,” I sobbed.

“They’ll take care of him, come, let’s back off a bit…” he murmured soothingly.

“No. I have to tell them. He’s allergic to shellfish, and I think he got it into his wounds somehow. It’s like Vildman, Dad, don’t you see, it’s just like him,” I whispered desperately.

“What?” he breathed, staring at me in shock.

“He’s dying, and they need to know,” I shouted.

That’s when Hawker lost it. I’d seen him angry before, more than once, but I had never seen him this furious. At first, everything around us just stilled, and I held my breath. A muscle was working in his jaw as he visibly tried to hold his temper back. I made a choked sound, not knowing what to do, and a little afraid of the look on his face.

As he leaned his head a little to the side and glanced at me from under his brow, he murmured a hoarse, “Fuck. This.”

Then he turned and without breaking his stride, he kicked one of the swinging doors we weren’t supposed to walk through and walked straight through them. I heard shouts behind the doors and my father’s annoyed, growly voice shouting right back at them for quite some time. Then there was a long silence, and finally, I heard his heavy boots coming back toward me.

I walked straight into his arms.

“Falk?” I asked.

“They know, and they’re giving him medicine. That’s all I know,” he murmured into my hair.

“Okay,” I whispered.

“Come,” he said and led me toward a waiting room.

Eventually, I calmed down, and we sat in that waiting room for what felt like forever.

Hawker’s eagle had told him when we drove up to the entrance, and he’d left the others a couple of floors up where Uncle Andy was laid up, recovering from extensive surgery. Andy had broken his collar bone, shoulder blade, upper arm and three ribs and they’d had to use steel plates on most of it to piece him back together. I sobbed once when I heard it, but Hawker just squeezed my hand, assuring me that Rider was fine and told me not to worry.

Then I explained what had happened in Marshes, and what we’d learned and seen. His face became a hard mask then, and I thought he would explode again.

“Dad, please. Not now,” I pleaded. “We can deal once we know about Falk?”

“Yeah,” he growled, but he reigned in his temper and leaned back in the plastic chair that probably had been white once but now was an ugly beige.

Loud footsteps echoed through the corridor and then the others joined us, with Mickey rushing into the room. He went straight to me, crouched and took hold of my hands. His face was set, and I think that mine looked the same because that’s how I felt. I felt my chest moving, but I could have sworn that I held my breath. That I had sucked in air when they rolled Mac away, and just never let it out again.

“Shit,” he whispered when he saw the look on my face.

“He had no pulse when they took him away, Mickey,” I whispered.

I didn’t cry, and my voice was anguished and hoarse, but it was steady.

“Shit,” Mickey said again, and I heard other voices repeating the word.

Kit, Miller, Olly, and Byrd stood in the room, looking grim. Except for Snow and Hawker’s father, everyone having a bird was in that room, waiting for news about their friend. Their brother, I realized.

“He’s strong. He will fight,” I said, and my insides settled.

I knew he would fight with everything he had and Hawker had told the hospital staff what to do. He would come back to us. I had to believe that.

“They know what to do for him. He will be fine,” Hawker said, making it sound like a decree, and the others relaxed visibly.

“Do you want coffee?” Mickey asked.

“Do bears shit in the woods?” I asked weakly, and he chuckled.

The black brew he brought back was disgusting, but I drank it anyway, gulping it down, hoping that it would warm me up my, at least. Then I moved away and sat by myself staring at the floor, counting my breaths so that I wouldn’t forget to breathe. I’d never been a religious person, but I wished I had been as I sat there staring at the puke green, plastic floor. Wished that I’d had some prayers to offer that could help Falk.

“Bird?” I called out after a while.

“Wilder,” she replied.

“Do you know Snow?”

“Good snow,” she replied, which I interpreted as affirmation.

“Can you tell her that we made it to the hospital? Tell her, thank you?”

“Word will go to bird by the water. Snow will know.”

“Okay,” I murmured. “Thanks.”

“Pretty man?” she asked.

“Don’t know,” I replied.

“Bird is worried. Says he disappeared and came back. Says she called to him, but he’s mumbling like when he drinks whiskey.”

Shit. My mind was whirling with all the references to birds here and birds there, and I wished they had names, but I figured the last one was from Mac’s falcon. That could mean anything, but I hoped that it at least meant that he was still alive.

“Tell his bird that he’s fighting. Tell her that he will be fine,” I murmured and continued to count my breaths, hoping that I wasn’t giving the falcon false hope.

“She says thank you,” my bird murmured after a while.

We didn’t speak more after that but remained connected. It comforted me to feel the warmth from her presence, and maybe she felt the same. Then, finally, a bunch of people were approaching the waiting room, so I let go of the bird and focused on the tall, dark-skinned and doctor-looking man in a white coat.

“Relatives to Falk Mackenzie?” he asked the room in general, but he watched Hawker warily.

“Yes,” I said as I walked up to the man. He looked like he wanted to question my relation to Mac so I added confidently, “Fiancée.”

“Right,” the man murmured and looked over my shoulder at my dad who was right behind me. “And you are?” he asked.

“Ff…father-in-law, to be,” Hawker replied and to give him credit, he only stuttered on the first syllable.

“Right,” the man repeated. “We have given him as much medicine we dare to give. He is stable and resting for the moment.”

I exhaled, and grabbed my father’s hand, holding on tightly.

“I’ll allow a short visit, Miss…” the doctor started.

“Johns,” Hawker replied, and added, “Let’s go.”

Then he started walking, dragging me along. The doctor had to run to catch up with us, but he didn’t say anything. He was clearly more than a little afraid of Hawker.

Mac was on his back with a sheet covering him to his waist. His wounds were covered in bandages, and some sort of sling was wrapped around his shoulder. It looked as if he was sleeping but it was too much like when I had watched Willy’s dead body, and I couldn’t stand there one more time, clutching the foot of a hospital bed.

“Falk,” I said as I leaned over him. “Baby, you don’t have to wake up. We have your back, so you can just sleep for a while.”

He didn’t move.

“We’re not gonna let the asshat win.” I murmured softly.

His eyelashes fluttered and even though he didn’t open his eyes, that small movement told me he was listening. I touched his cheek gently with my fingertips and murmured with a smile, “Rest now, Falk. You promised to clean up that dumpster you live in so you’ll need your strength…”

My voice trailed off when I felt his hand squeeze mine.

“I’ve had my hands on your ass more than once but we still haven’t used what Sloane gave you,” he murmured groggily, and I laughed, but it was shaky.

“Your dad won’t like us being together,” he continued, and my head swung around to face Hawker.

He looked like he didn’t know if he should smile or yell at Mac.

“Falk, do-” I tried to stop him from talking, but he cut me off.

“Don’t care, though. Best man I know, but I’ll fight him if I have to.”

“F –”

“He’s getting old anyway. Bet I can take him down.”

Mac stopped talking and breathed deeply for a while. Then he opened his eyes, and they came to me first, but he spotted Hawker immediately.

“Shit,” he murmured.

“Yeah,” Hawker replied. Then he snorted something under his breath and went on, “You’re an enormous fucking pain in my ass, Mac, always have been. Good to have you back, though.”

“Yeah,” Mac echoed hoarsely.

Then the doctor cleared his throat, and I jerked. I’d completely forgotten about him, but he’d apparently stayed in a corner together with a nurse.

“The wounds are consistent with a knife injury,” he started, and when I turned to him, he said weakly, “I would have to report a knife injury to the authorities.”

“He slipped and cut himself on a couple of harpoons,” I said quickly. “We were visiting my step-father in Marshes, and I know that they use the harpoons to spear huge shellfish, but we didn’t realize that it would harm Mac.”

The doctor looked at me, and I could tell that he didn’t know if he should let it be or probe deeper into what had happened.

“Huge shellfish?” he asked slowly, and the nurse made a choking sound.

“Yes. Gigantic lobsters,” I stated calmly and with great certainty.

I’d never actually thought much about the size of lobsters in my life. I wasn’t allergic, but I didn’t like seafood, and neither had Willy, so we never ate it.

Then Hawker cleared his throat loudly and pushed his shirt aside so that his badge showed. The doctor’s face immediately lit up, and he smiled.

“Oh. Okay. Well, the, er, harpoons, would certainly explain why there seemed to be small grains in the wounds. It could be from some kind of shells. We had to flush the cuts repeatedly to get it all out, but once we had, his condition stabilized almost immediately.

“If you saved the grains, I’d like to have them,” Hawker rumbled. “For the investigation,” he added.

“Certainly. Absolutely. Nurse Ro –” the doctor started, although he didn’t even have to finish the sentence because the nurse scurried out of the room, looking like a frightened mouse.

Wow. Hawker must have really scared them.

“You have responded incredibly well to the treatment, but we will still keep you monitored through the night. If things progress nicely, we’ll let you leave tomorrow morning,” the doctor said, looking at Mac.

It seemed like Mac was about to protest but I wanted him in the hospital where the doctors would take care of him.

“Falk,” I said, gently but with absolutely no room for argument, “You will stay here for the night and I will pick you up tomorrow. Okay?”

He grinned weakly in answer to my question that wasn’t a question and turned to my father.

“Your daughter,” he said.

“Absolutely,” Hawker agreed, and he did it calmly but his lips twitched as if he had to fight to keep a smile at bay.

Then the doctor ushered us out of the room and back to the waiting room. As we walked, I turned to my dad.

“Maybe I should tell the cops, Dad? About everything, I mean?”

“You told me. I’m a cop. End of story,” Hawker replied calmly.

Then he turned to me with a resigned look on his face.

“Gigantic lobsters? That’s the best you could come up with?”

“Shut up,” I murmured, feeling a little bit stupid because I’d started to realize that it probably wasn’t all that common to spear lobsters with harpoons.

Then my father slung an arm around my shoulders, and as we walked into the waiting room he asked casually,

“So, what did Sloane give you that you haven’t used?”

Oh. Shit.

Chapter Eighteen

Wilder than everyone

We rolled up in front of Carson’s place right behind Miller’s truck, and as Hawker turned off the engine, I saw Carson and Bo come out to hug Kit, and then Miller.

I was in the back seat, but I’d not gotten there without a fight.

Mac had been rolled out from the hospital in a wheelchair, and he’d been absolutely furious about that. The doctor in charge in the morning had been made of sterner stuff than the one who had treated him the day before, declaring calmly that it was either the wheelchair or he would carry Mac out like a baby. Hawker started laughing loudly at that, and I tried really hard, but also failed to hide my chuckle. To my surprise, Mac lost the staredown that ensued and sat down in the wheelchair with an angry grunt.

When we got to the car, he moved to ride shotgun, and I tried to stop him, thinking that he could lay down in the back. Also, I wanted to be in the front seat.

Mac refused. I argued. He growled, and I yelled. Hawker got involved and told us that we should both be in the back seat, which made us round on him, suggesting that I could drive and he could go suck an egg or something. The look on my dad’s face when he heard this was priceless, and a few of the hospital staff that had gathered outside to watch the show started laughing.

Then Byrd waded into the discussion, closing it down in a firm voice.

“Hawker drives because it’s his car. Mac is in the front because he’s tall and needs the leg room. Wilder, you go in the back because that’s the only seat available to you.”

I stared at her, and I could totally tell by the unblinking stare she aimed back at me that her bird was an owl. I also knew that this was a fight I wouldn’t win so I backed down.

“You worked as a kindergarten teacher or something?” I asked sourly.

“Army intel. General. Retired,” she replied calmly and opened the front passenger door raising an eyebrow at Mac.

“Really?” I breathed, not knowing why this was such a surprise.

Maybe because she looked like someone’s housewife with her hair in a soft bun at the nape of her neck and a flowery blouse in pale blue and pink?

“Get in,” she ordered, and I obediently climbed into the back seat of my father’s gigantic, black truck.

“Obliged, Bee,” I heard Hawker mutter as he got into the driver’s seat.

Then we drove off, and I turned around to wave at Mickey and Olly who were going back to Double H. The huge doctor was grinning widely, and I watched in surprise as he raised his hand and then how Byrd slapped it in a high five. Hawker must have seen it too because he started laughing.

Mac promptly shifted the back of his chair until it was almost horizontal and closed his eyes.

“You could have gone in the back if you were going to lie down,” I grumbled.

“Babe,” he muttered. “I don’t go in the back.”

Then he fell asleep. I stared at him, contemplating if I should slap him or let him rest.

“Get used to it,” Hawker muttered.

“What?”

“Your choice, Wilder. You chose him. He apparently chose you right back. I can’t say I’m too happy about it, but watching you riding in the back seat right now and knowing that I’ll get to watch you have this fight every time you go in my truck makes it bearable,” he said.

Then he turned and gave me a quick wink, and the smile on his face was sweet. He said he wasn’t happy about Mac and me being… I didn’t know just exactly what we were, but whatever it was, I didn’t think that my dad was quite as upset about it as he said he was.

“Shit,” I replied sourly, but that was all fake.

Then I got down on my side and slept all the way to Carson’s.

Mac didn’t wake up when we stopped, and I’d opened the door to gently nudge him out of sleep when Hawker gave him a hard shove.

“Dad,” I hissed. “What the hell are you doing? He’s been injured.”

“Yeah, Hawker,” Mac said as he raised the back seat. He turned away from me to face my father, echoing my words in a voice that sounded suspiciously like a tease, “What the hell are you doing? I’ve been injured.”

“Shit,” Hawker muttered and climbed out of the truck, followed by Mac’s chuckle.

“This is fantastic, babe,” he murmured as he got out and slung an arm around my shoulder. “Drives him nuts to hold his temper back like that.”

“You’re mean when you’re not feeling well,” I said, but I did it smiling.

He looked a lot better this morning. The awful shivers that had wrecked his whole body when I drove up to the hospital were gone, and his body felt strong and warm, so I leaned closer into him as we walked toward Bo and Carson.

“Oh, my poor boy,” Bo exclaimed, rushing toward us.

He had apparently decided to pass on the lipstick that morning, but his eyes were immaculately lined with dark eyeliner, and I noticed a faint blush on his cheeks that I suspected was applied expertly with a brush. He looked amazing.

“Boz, I’m good,” Mac murmured.

“Seeing you so weak, not walking on your own… It’s killing me,” Bo continued dramatically as if he hadn’t heard.

“What?” Mac muttered. “I can walk on my own, Bo.”

“But you’re leaning on Wild –”

He stopped talking when Kit started laughing.

“Oh?” he said, and I could see how his mind worked through why Mac would have his arm around my shoulders. “Oh…” he repeated, but this time it was with a sly grin.

“Well, shit,” I heard my father mutter, again, and I let go of Mac to walk over to Carson.

“I’m thinking that food would be good right about now,” I whispered.

He grinned at me as he ushered us all through the house and then we sat down on his back deck to eat. There were a few others there, gorging down Carson’s fabulous food, which turned out to be chicken this time, grilled with a rub that was thick and spicy and served with veggies that he’d roasted in the oven.

We moved around, re-filling plates and glasses and the slow, peaceful pace that I’d enjoyed the last time I was there settled in over me like a warm, soft blanket. When we heard another car drive up, Carson ambled through the house unhurriedly, although when he walked back out on the porch, he seemed surprisingly tense. His face was hard, and he immediately aimed his eyes on Mac, who sighed and looked down at his plate.

“It’s okay, Carson,” he muttered.

I blinked, wondering what was going on. Then a couple stepped out on the porch, followed by two men my age. They looked straight at Mac and it didn’t take me long to realize that this was his uncle and aunt, and his two cousins. Mac nodded once and continued eating calmly while Carson placed the family at a table as far away from us as he could manage.

The mood at our table was thick enough to cut and Hawker moved to get up when I heard Mac mumble, “Settle down everyone. I’m good.”

I leaned into him and thought about how he’d grown up, and what kind of man he had become. Without thinking it through, I got to my feet and, followed by Mac’s annoyed rumble, I moved into the kitchen where I helped Carson to prepare four plates. Then we took two each to bring out to Mac’s relatives.

“Enjoy your meal,” I said sweetly, placing the plates in front of Mac’s cousins.

They shifted uncomfortably, and their eyes darted between me, Mac, Hawker, and their father.

“You’re Wilder?” the older man asked, sounding like he was delivering an insult.

I smiled happily and moved to the side to let a stone-faced Carson put the other two plates down.

“Totally,” I replied. “Wilder than everyone else, apparently,” I added. “It’s probably good to remember that,” I concluded, holding the older man’s eyes firmly until he lowered his gaze.

Then I sauntered over to sit down next to Mac again. Carson moved back inside, but he must have made some sign to Bo because the big man got to his feet and followed him, and Kit did too. It didn’t take long for the sounds of muffled laughter to reach us from inside the kitchen. When Kit came out, he glanced over at Mac’s family at the far end of the porch, only to start chuckling again.

“What did you do?” Mac asked quietly.

“Me?” I said innocently.

He kept looking at me, and I smiled widely.

“Spat in their food, of course. What did you expect me to do?” I chirped.

He blinked slowly.

“I stirred it in properly, though, Mac. I don’t think they’ll notice,” I clarified, and added gently, “But I know, and now you do too. And that’s all the energy I’ll spend on those idiots, they aren’t worth more than that.”

The mood suddenly shifted around our table. The men started eating again, although they did it chuckling and glancing across the porch. Hawker stared at me and then his lips twitched.

“Elegant,” he murmured and forked up food.

Mac didn’t move for a long time, and I started to worry. What I’d done was kind of juvenile, so maybe he’d be angry with me, or think that I was ridiculous? Then his good hand came up to cup my cheek, and he kissed me. Thoroughly and deeply.

“What am I going to do with you?” he murmured softly when he pulled back, but he did it grinning hugely.

“Um,” I replied because he was good with his mouth and I was a bit dizzy.

Hawker made a strangled noise that snapped me back to reality, and I started shoveling the fantastic chicken into my mouth.

“You’re going to clean up that dumpster you live in, and then you’re going to make dinner for me. Though, baby, talk to Carson before you start cooking because this food is dee-vine,” I said and the last part I aimed at a grinning Bo who was back at the table again.

We finished off our meal, declined coffee on the porch but accepted the travel mugs Bo offered and then we walked back to the cars. Next to Miller’s car there was a low, beige station wagon and laughter echoed when the men saw it. From the front of the hood and all the way across the roof, the car was completely covered in bird shit.

“Wilder…” Mac murmured, but I turned to him.

“Wasn’t me. Swear,” I said.

“Yeah, that was me,” Hawker muttered. “Didn’t know what Wilder would do, though. Might have held them back a little if I had.”

Everyone stopped, and the men stared at him, but I stared at the car thinking that it would probably be close to impossible to clean it up completely.

“Them?” Miller asked after a while.

“Yeah, we all know the birds don’t talk to each other, but apparently they do talk to Sloane’s army of insects, and they pass messages between our birds, and all other types of flying critters,” Hawker said disgruntledly. “Have been doing it for years, so she knows all kinds of shit,” he finished, and that was apparently the end of the discussion because he beeped the locks to his car and walked off.

“Huh,” Miller said but since there really wasn’t anything else to say he also beeped the locks to his truck and opened the front door. “Get shit on my ride, boy, and you wash it off,” he said to Kit who was grinning as he moved gingerly to the passenger door, keeping away from the beige car and the poop on it.

Mac opened the front door to Hawker’s truck and then he motioned for me to get inside.

“Spat in my uncle’s food, babe. You get the front seat this time,” he murmured.

I smiled widely at him and stepped into the car. He looked tired, and I figured he was going to lie down and sleep all the way to Norton anyway, so it was a nice gesture but not exactly a grand one.

I wasn’t wrong, Mac was out before we left Carson and Bo’s parking lot.

“Weird that the birds talk to Sloane’s butterflies, huh?” I said, hoping that my father would tell me more about it.

At first, he didn’t and all the food I’d eaten made me sleepy, so my eyelids had started to droop, but they flew up when he started speaking.

“That’s how she told me about the cup,” he muttered, almost reluctantly.

“What?”

“Your pink cup, Wilder. My bird told me that you were feeling blue and that you needed something pretty and girly. Said you needed a pink cup with pretty swirls on it for your tea.”

I turned and stared at him.

“Apparently you said some things and the butterflies heard. They passed it on to Sloane, and she asked them to tell my eagle. He did, and I got you a cup,” he stated, staring at the road in front of us.

“I thought Willy had told you,” I said.

“Nope. He was as clueless as I was,” Hawker said.

“I wasn’t sad very often, Dad,” I murmured. “It was good most of the time. The weeks were lonely, but not bad because they weren’t there most of the time. And I had Willy.”

“Yeah,” he said hoarsely.

“Thank you for the cup, I’ve always loved it” I whispered. Then a thought hit me. “Why did you have one just like it in your house?”

“Always hoped you’d be there one day to have breakfast with me, and drink your tea from it.”

I swallowed, but I was also furious with my mother for keeping us apart for so long.

“Also,” Hawker continued with a small grin that grew into a chuckle. “I made Miller use it every time he visited. Told him how I hated that you weren’t there to use it, which was true. Also told him that I needed to see someone else use it so that I wouldn’t feel so lonely…”

He trailed off, grinning widely, and my mouth fell. Then I burst out into loud laughter because the thought of Miller with his long, partially gray hair and goatee, sitting in my father’s kitchen drinking coffee from a huge, pink cup with purple swirls was hilarious. It was also very sweet, and it felt good to know that someone had been there for my dad, even when it had meant looking a little bit ridiculous.

***

I lit candles in the windows and on the table, eschewing the electrical lights, thinking that dinner with Mac in the candle lights would be sweet.

Almost a week had passed since we got back to Norton and Mac was mostly back to normal again. The wounds had healed enough for him to start growling about how the stitches itched, and he’d thrown the sling off a few days earlier, saying that a sprained shoulder was nothing.

He had spent the first days holed up in his condo, and I left him to it, thinking that he needed to be alone for a while. I’d thought that being on my own to think things through would be right for me too, but I ended up missed him more than expected, and that had been unsettling. I wondered what I’d do when he called and had decided to act a lot less eager than what I’d managed so far.

Then he simply showed up at Johns, where I sat perched at one of the stools by the bar, chatting with my uncle.

“Dinner’s ready,” he growled close to my ear.

His breath on my neck sent shivers down my spine, and I turned slowly to face him. He stepped in between my legs and leaned down.

“Are you?” he murmured against my lips.

I heard Uncle Hare murmur something and a glass was set down with quite some force at the back table where I knew my father sat with Miller and a few other men. I slid off the stool to grab hold of Mac’s hand and, ignoring everyone else, I let him pull me along.

That night I discovered that the falcon on his back might look fantastic, but feeling it under my hands was amazing in ways I hadn’t imagined.

We’d slept together since then, either at my house or at his place, which wasn’t a wonder of cleanliness but at least it was far from the disaster zone I’d seen the first time.

Mac was back to working, and I’d learned that Miller was a veterinarian too, so they took turns tending to the animals in Norton. I was astonished to hear that they had two Vets in a small village like Norton, but Mac had chuckled and explained that no one on the town actually had to work. They were expected to contribute to the village by doing something they found satisfying, and everyone did. Then he went on to explain that there was some kind of intricate fund set up and it had enough money in it to cover housing and basic household expenses for everyone in the village.

A loud knock on the door startled me, and since Mac and I had stopped knocking, or more accurately never even started, I thought it was odd that he suddenly did.

“Shit,” was my dad’s greeting when I opened the door and looked over my shoulder into the candle lit room. “I’m inviting myself and some of the others over. Mill’s ordering pizza. We should talk about Marshes,” he said then and walked inside.

Okay. Not what I’d planned for the evening, but he was right. The discussion we apparently were about to have was overdue, and I realized that they’d probably held back to let me and Mac have some time, but that this time was out now.

“Okay, Dad,” I said and turned on the lights, and started blowing out the candles.

“I’m sorry, Wilder,” he said gently and nodded toward the table.

I wasn’t a great cook so we would have had a mostly failed pasta dish, and I had put candles on the table, but it wasn’t as if I’d laid it all out with fancy napkins and flowers.

“Don’t worry about it, Dad,” I said calmly. “I get that you’ve given us some time, and I appreciate it, but you’re right. We need to talk about Marshes.”

Then I grinned at him, and added, “Mac and I can be romantic some other time.”

His eyes narrowed, and I knew that he knew I was teasing him, but before he could say anything, Mac walked in.

“How badly did you mess up dinner tonight, babe? Pizza guy is on his way up the –”

His eyes met Hawker’s, and he got immediately why there would be pizza for dinner that evening. Then the pizza delivery-guy arrived and so did everyone else. While we ate, we went through what had happened in Marshes.

Mac had found papers in Paolo’s study confirming that investors from outside our country were involved, but they had been rather general in their wording, talking only about setting up a company, sourcing energy that Paolo would sell in full to these foreign investors.

Byrd took notes and said she’d check with her former colleagues in the Army intelligence. Kit added that he’d talk to some friends whom he labeled as his “geek-buddies” to see if they had heard anything.

“I don’t understand,” I said quietly. “You all seem to know, but I don’t. What is it he can destroy in the mountains and how is it linked to the birds? Or to us?”

They were silent for a long time and then Hawker spoke, slowly and measuring each word.

“There’s energy in the mountains, Wilder. You told me yourself about the stories you read, and how the people in them knew when they entered Dreughan land?”

He paused, and I nodded. This was true. In the stories there had been some kind of shield protecting the mountains, not letting outsiders pass through it.

“These days, anyone can enter the mountains. Maybe our blood has been mixed up enough to allow for it, maybe all other energy swirling around in the air takes down that shield. But the energy is still there, and we have substantial proof that this energy is coming from crystals, hidden deep in the ground. Over the years a few have surfaced although we don’t know how. Suddenly someone walking around in the mountains have found one of them, just lying there. It could be from stones shifting around after the snow has melted or maybe small earth quakes, perhaps. We don’t know, though, and so far it has only been on our own land, close to Norton.”

He paused to point at Miller and then the coffee machine. While Miller got up to follow the order, Hawker kept speaking.

“Now we come to the part we really don’t know much about, Wilder. In the old records, it said that the glimmering stones were linked to the dragons and that they wouldn’t exist without the stones. The birds come from the dragons, and it could be that the old records are incorrect, but no one has ever dared to question it. Removing the crystals has always been considered too much of a risk so they have always been buried again, as deep into the ground as we could, so that we never lose the link to our birds.”

I exhaled air that had been in my lungs far too long.

“Paolo believes so too,” I said. “He knows about the birds and somehow he knows that the crystals could be what links us together. I’m sure of it.”

“Huh,” Hawker said, and he shot a glance at me under lowered brows, but turned to Mac and asked him if he had found something else.

Mac went on to explain about how he’d continued to look through Paolo’s study, but that the bird had warned him that the man was coming home. He’d gotten out through the back door but passing through the garden he’d been attacked by the short man Paolo had called Francesco.

“Cousin,” Miller rumbled, and my brows went up. “Fratinelli’s cousin. It has to be him. Only short dude in that village.”

Cousin. That made sense.

“What do we do now?” I asked. “And why does he need Double H, and the land surrounding it?”

“What do you mean the land surrounding it?” Byrd asked slowly.

“But that’s what he said? They needed to get one of the Farnhamns out of the way. The land Willy gave to Uncle Andy and Mickey are just north-east of Double H.”

“Shit,” Hawker murmured. “I didn’t think about that. I thought they just wanted them gone so you would be persuaded to sell.”

“At least we know where to send the birds now. We’ll send them out to look just outside Rider’s and Mickey’s plots,” Mac added.

I talked to Mickey every day, so I knew that he and Olly had arranged for security, both some kind of cameras and men guarding the premises, but they had seen nothing out of the ordinary.

The birds had all reported the same things back to us; Men were moving around in the mountains around Double H, but they hadn’t seen any digging or any kind of bigger equipment. Double H was huge, and even though the birds had fantastic eyesight they had a lot of land to cover so if we could tell them where to focus it would make their work much easier.

“Right,” Hawker agreed. “Let’s take a short break, check in with the birds, tell them where to go tomorrow.”

We moved around, drinking coffee, and talking about how I was organizing Willy’s documents. When I started looking through them, I’d been grief-stricken and had not known what kind of information there could be, so I’d tossed it in boxes and not done much more. I’d since started to go through them more carefully, and sorted them as best I could. I’d not found anything like what Vilda and her friends had written down, but there were various records and documents, and some of them seemed old.

I brought out the papers Vildman had hidden behind the stone and Hawker told us that he had started preparing to bring the man down from the mountain. Sloane was apparently helping him with that, but I wasn’t sure if he was happy with the assistance, or annoyed.

“That woman is full of ideas,” he sighed.

“Huh,” Miller said, and there was a world full of hidden meaning behind that simple sound.

Hawker turned to him and to my surprise there was a faint shadow across his cheekbones. Was my rough, cool and growly father blushing?

“Dad?” I asked, drawing the word out.

“I’ll get your phone, the others will want to see the pictures you have of Vildman,” my father replied and walked into my bedroom.

I chuckled but when he didn’t return I started to wonder if we’d offended him. After a long while, he walked into the kitchen, carrying the wooden box I’d picked up from my parent’s house as a memory from my mother.

“Where did you get this?” he asked, and the others stilled.

“Paolo offered me to take something with me as a memory of Mother, and I had no clue what to ask for, but I felt I should ask for something so I picked that one,” I replied, and then I added, “I like the inlays.”

“Carrie had it?” Hawker murmured, but his voice was strained.

“Mother had it on her dressing table all my life,” I replied.

“She had it on her dressing table all your life,” he said slowly.

“What?” I snapped.

“It was my mother’s, Wilder. She gave it to Carrie when you were born, and I asked to get it back when we split up. Carrie said she’d thrown it in the fireplace because she didn’t want any memories of me in the house.”

Oh.

“Did you show Carrie?” Miller asked.

“No. Didn’t plan to, and figured I’d show my daughter when she got older instead.”

“Show me what?” I asked.

Hawker set the box down on the kitchen table and moved his fingers over the inlays. Then he pressed down on a few of them and with a snap a thin drawer at the bottom opened. My eyes widened because I’d never even realized that there was a drawer there. It had been hidden well, and without knowing how to press the silver decorations, it would be impossible to open.

In the drawer, there was a small velvet pouch. Hawker took it out and with a soft smile he pulled out a necklace. As he held it up to show me, my heart stuttered and then it started beating fast and hard.

Vilda’s dragon pendant. The pendant that was said to have magical powers bring courage and open locked doors and other tings my racing mind couldn’t remember. I stretched out a hand, and Hawker took a step forward. Then he hung the necklace around my neck.

A wild howling sound suddenly reverberated all around us. As it died out, a warmth settled in my chest, and I turned to Mac, reaching out to him. He grabbed my hand and another, softer howl moved through the air, like an echo of the first one.

“Cool,” I breathed.

Chapter Nineteen

Swordfight

We sat down at the kitchen table again to look at the papers Vildman had left in his hiding place in the wall, and I read the prophecy out loud to them.

“Turmoil will reign yet again unless one from the three avails of her father's mark to bring the world back from the brink of destruction. One is the removal of one. Adorning in the legacy of a shadow that passed is two. Wielding the heart of swords forged in fire is three.”

There was a stunned silence at first, and then we discussed for a long time, but all we could come up with was that the swords of the fire dragons were needed somehow.

Without a word, Hawker got out to come back in with a long bag. Then he pulled out the sword I had gawked at so many times with Mickey, in the lobby of the biggest hotel in the mountains. It was long and looked completely untouched by time. The blade seemed sharper than I would have thought possible in a sword that I knew was more than a thousand years old. The rounded part intended to protect the hand had a few dents, but it was polished, and the light almost bounced off it. He put it down carefully on the table, and I stretched out my hand to touch the bright, yellow stones around the rim of the cup with my fingertips. They were all cut the same way although it wasn’t like any gem I’d ever seen before. In fact, I didn’t recognize the design or craftsmanship from any of the artifacts I’d studied in school.

“How did you get hold of this?” I asked.

“Sloane,” he said cryptically and didn’t seem too eager to continue, but I kept staring at him until he did. “Apparently her friggin’ father owns that place, so we went there and talked to him.”

“He gave it to you?” I asked, thinking that this was incredibly generous but also incredibly weird.

“After a while,” Hawker muttered. “Had to promise a few things.”

“What?” I asked curiously.

The whole situation was kind of funny seeing that the look on my father’s face indicated he’d been thoroughly chastised by the father of his long-ago one-night adventure.

“He’s an impossible old coot,” Hawker growled and when Miller started chuckling he went on angrily, “Apparently I had a digit wrong in her phone number. Have no clue how I was supposed to know that, but he still blames me and now I have to call her every day for a month, okay?”

I stared at him. Then I pressed my hand over my mouth. Then I squeezed my eyes shut.

Nothing I did could stop the laughter that bubbled up my throat, so I gave in and let it out, and the others laughed with me.

“What are you talking about in these daily calls?” I asked when the laughter had died down.

“None of your business,” he snapped, and he was right of course.

Also, I didn’t really want to know.

“Okay. Where is she now? Prosper?”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “She has lectures all week, so she stayed there. Will be up for the weekend, though.”

Aha. This was interesting. Sloane was apparently visiting my father for the weekend. I started grinning and wanted to keep tormenting him, but he shut me down quickly.

“You haven’t told me what Sloane gave you.”

I had successfully skirted that question since Mac had blurted out what he did in the hospital, talking about the lovely blouse she’d given me and how good it had looked when I’d worn it in Marshes. Hawker figured out immediately that this was an aversion tactic, maybe because I usually didn’t blabber quite so much about colors and fabrics.

“I told you. It was a blouse,” I muttered, and decided to change the topic, so I added, “I have something you should see.”

Then I walked into my bedroom and brought out the remainder of the sword that Snow’s bird had picked out of the ocean for me. This caused a bit of an uproar since they had all believed she’d rejected her bird when her father died. None of them liked Snow’s mother although I got the distinct impression that it was since she’d moved away with the girl and not because they had anything against the woman’s personality. When they heard how Snow had helped both me and Mac they nodded calmly, as if this was to be expected.

Then Hawker declared that he wanted to go to Marshes and “bring home the girl.” His words. I stared at him, wondering what in the hell he was talking about. Snow was allowed to live wherever she wanted, wasn’t she? Then a thought struck me.

“Where do you think I will live, Hawker?” I asked.

“Well here, of course,” he replied immediately.

Mac made a small sound and Byrd exhaled. Miller slowly put a hand on Hawker’s shoulder and squeezed in a way that only could be a warning.

“What if I want to live at Double H. You know? My home?” I asked.

I had actually not thought so much about where I wanted to live and had figured I’d move back and forth between Norton and the ranch. What I didn’t like was for my father to tell me what to do.

“Wilder,” he growled, and I could tell that he was about to say something I would in no way like so I braced, but Mac waded in.

“Right. Here’s what’ll happen now. I will take Wilder for a little walk. Everyone else stays here and explains to Hawker about the twenty-first century, women’s rights and at what age people legally become adults in this country. Okay?”

Then he pulled me to my feet, into boots and a jacket and out through the door, before anyone had a chance to protest.

“Thank you,” I whispered as we walked through the darkness.

We’d been silent for a long time and had walked slowly toward the village. We’d gotten all the way past the cemetery and were passing the church when I finally calmed down, so I stopped, and we started to go back home.

“It was a bit silly to get mad, wasn’t it?” I asked in a small voice.

“Yeah, babe, it was,” he replied gently, but went on, “but your da was stupid too, you know.”

My mood lightened then because he was right. Hawker had been silly.

“I think I’m a lot like him, Falk. Quite a lot, actually,” I confessed.

He laughed in my face.

“No shit?” he grinned, but when he saw that it worried me, he continued, “I keep telling you, he’s the best man I know. Stupid, stubborn and hot-headed like all hell. But also strong, compassionate, brave and determined. It isn’t so bad to be like a man who’s like that, is it?”

I got up on my toes and kissed him, and that went on until I realized that he had me pressed against the wall of the small, old church.

“Mac!” I gasped. “The church…”

“Yeah,” he grinned crookedly, but stepped back and took hold of my hand. “Been inside? It’s beautiful.”

“No. Can we take a look, you think?” I asked.

He tried the handle, and the door slid open without a sound.

“I guess we can,” he murmured.

The church was small and dark with only the street lights outside providing some guidance. I was about to turn when my heart jumped.

“Mac,” I whispered.

At the far end, close to the altar, was a large shadow that I thought was the font but that wasn’t what had caught my eye. On a stone shelf in a small alcove in the wall just above, something had glimmered, and I walked up the aisle until I was right in front of it.

“What?” Mac asked in a murmur. Then his eyes followed my gaze, and he added, “Yeah, we used to use that one for baptisms, but it’s leaking so they had a new one made a long time ago. Hundreds of years ago they said in school.”

I swallowed, and then I stretched out a shivering hand to hold the joining cup from Vilda, Sannah, and Troy’s settlement.

“We have to go back,” I whispered. “This changes everything.”

Without a word he grabbed my other hand and started walking quickly down the aisle, out through the door and back up the lane toward my house.

“You’re not going to ask? We go back, just like that?” I asked, a little breathlessly because he was walking fast and his legs were longer than mine.

“The look on your face said it’s important, Wilder, so yeah. We go back just like that,” he said calmly, but I noticed with satisfaction that he was a little short of breath too.

We got into the house, and the others were seated at the table. Hawker started to get up, but I raised my hand.

“We can discuss my living situation some other time, Dad. This is important.”

Then I threw the jacket on the couch, marched up to the table, and placed the old joining cup on my kitchen table, next to the swords.

They all saw it immediately.

The cup that Vilda had brought with her from the settlement was not a cup at all. Or at least not a cup to drink from. It had been attached to a sword, to protect a hand during a fight. I was absolutely sure that it had been the cup to protect Vildman’s hand, attached to his sword. They had sent it to the small settlement with Vilda, his daughter, for safe keeping since they knew Vildman was severely injured and could die.

With its wooden handle making it into a drinking cup it would have been hidden in plain sight, just as she had been.

“Jesus,” Hawker murmured.

We now had parts from all three swords of the fire dragons, lying on my kitchen table.

Then Kit leaned forward and picked up the sword Sloane had brought from the hotel. Kee’s sword. He fiddled with it a little, and suddenly it fell apart.

“The blade is newer, and so is the handle,” he murmured. “They have added this one but just temporarily, and quite recently.”

No one said a word, and as we stared, he grabbed the sword we got out of the ocean, turning it around and inspecting it curiously. Right then he reminded me so much of how my friend Jinx looked at things she built, or took apart, that I almost laughed.

“Aha,” he murmured and knocked the blade a few times into the wooden kitchen table.

The rusty remainders of the blade and handle fell off.

Finally, he took the cup we just got out of the church and with a rueful grin toward Byrd he snapped off the old wooden handle.

Then he set the three cups next to each other.

“Wielding the hearts of swords forged in fire... Here are the hearts,” he murmured.

Then he squinted and tilted his head to the side. He stared at them, and so did we all. No one said anything.

The cups looked similar, but when I examined them, I realized that they were slightly different. They had ridges and patterns in the surface that differed, and they were not exactly the same size. I stared at them, not knowing what to do when a thought struck me. That last boring lecture I’d been to. The last engineering class I’d taken. It had been about laser technology, and the teacher had droned on and on about the various angles of light.

Slowly I moved the widest cup, the one with the blue gems, to the center. Then I picked up the one with the yellow stones and slid it on top of the blue one.

“Yeah…” I heard Kit exhale and when I reached for the last cup, he was already holding it.

With a small snapping sound, he attached it to the top.

“Get a flashlight,” he murmured.

“Explain,” Hawker demanded, and while I checked all the drawers in the kitchen for a flashlight, I heard how Kit went into an explanation about how the angles of light would possibly form a beam of light that would be amplified compared to the original sources.

“Use my phone, it has a flashlight,” Mac said suddenly.

Kit grabbed it and started shining the light over the cups in various angles.

Nothing happened.

“Shit,” someone murmured, but I didn’t listen.

I had been so sure we were right, and I wasn’t willing to give up just yet.

“Perhaps we haven’t put them together the right way,” I said and leaned forward to see if they could be adjusted.

We tried for a long time but nothing worked, and finally, we gave up.

“I hope I didn’t ruin old artifacts all for nothing,” Kit said, and there was despair in his voice.

“Of course not,” I said with more confidence than I felt. “We need better light or something. Perhaps they can be fitted together some other way…” I trailed off and then I added, “I have a friend who can help us.”

“Wilder!”

My eyes opened wide, and I straightened abruptly when my bird's anxious voice cut through my thoughts. She was louder than usual, and it sounded urgent. Then I noticed that all the others had moved too. Hawker was on his feet, and Byrd looked at her lap, but her eyes were narrowed. Miller and Kit looked each other. Mac had turned away.

“Bird,” I replied.

“People outside Double H. Right where you told us. Didn’t wait until tomorrow, we see well in darkness. Many men brought big things. Big black logs.”

I frowned, wondered what big logs they could have brought up the mountain, but then she interrupted my thoughts.

“Come home, Wilder. Come. Come.”

“All right, Bird. I’ll come,” I assured her.

Then I looked around and met my father’s eyes.

“We leave tonight, all of us,” he murmured.

“All of us, Bird. All of us are coming. We drive through the night,” I assured her.

“Good, Wilder. Good. Be careful,” she said.

“You too,” I replied.

Then I turned around and found the others watching me with expressions that varied between astonished and expectant. That’s when I realized that, except for Mac, I hadn’t told any of them about my bird.

“Yeah. I’ve met my bird. I guess I forgot to tell you,” I said.

“That’s why you think Fratinelli knows about the birds,” Hawker said astutely. “Wondered about that, figured we’d talk about it, but with everything else, I saved it for later.”

“Bird showed me,” I said and explained about the conversation I’d heard, and partially seen.

While I talked, everyone moved around, packing up empty pizza boxes and putting cups and glasses in the sink.

“Stroke of luck that the window sills are deep enough to hide an eagle,” Hawker murmured thoughtfully.

Mac’s chest started shaking next to me, but I smiled sunnily at my father.

“Didn’t I tell you, Dad? My bird isn’t an eagle at all. It’s a small, black hawk.”

When his jaw dropped neither Mac nor I could hold our laughter back.

Chapter Twenty

Holy hotness

I’d called Mickey to let them know that we were on our way, so the lights were still on in the living room and kitchen when we drove up to Double H. I jumped out of Mac’s truck and as he drove off to put it in the huge garage, I walked quickly up the steps and straight into Mickey’s arms.

“Is everything okay?” I asked.

“Yeah. Stepped up security but they’ve found nothing,” he replied.

“That’s great. Meant with your dad, though,” I murmured.

“Oh. Yeah, dad’s fine. Incredibly pissed off and generously spreading his sour mood all over North County Hospital, mom tells me. But, he’s healing, and they’ll let him come home in a few more days. Mom stopped spending the nights at the hospital, so she’s at home now, sleeping.”

“Good,” I murmured and let go of him.

When I entered the living room, Jinx immediately got up from the couch, yawning and pulling at her long light brown hair which was pulled back in a high ponytail that had gone lopsided as she slept.

“Hey, Wilder,” she muttered. “Mary is in the kitchen making sandwiches. She figured you’d be hungry.”

Then she caught sight of the men who had walked in with me and started to move, looking at my father with a polite smile. Her welcome was interrupted when the kitchen door opened, and Mary pushed through it with her back toward us, balancing a huge plate in her hands.

“Wilder!” she shouted. “Welcome ho… ooly hotness.”

Her greeting ended in a drawn out whisper, and she froze, staring at the men who had lined up behind me.

I heard a few grunts that sounded mostly like covered up chuckles, and I had a hard time holding back my own laughter, but Mary was clearly in awe.

“Mary, get a grip,” Jinx growled.

“What?” Mary asked. “From salt and pepper hotness over there and all the way to Mickey… there’s suddenly a whole buffet of gorgeous in this room, in case you didn’t notice,” she whispered, but we all heard her, and I saw Hawker press his lips together when she made the reference to Miller’s partially gray hair.

“Jesus,” Jinx muttered and rolled her eyes.

“Everyone, this is Jinx and Mary,” I said. “Girls, come and meet my father and his friends,” I added.

Mary took a step toward us, but her foot snagged in the carpet, and the plate tilted to a point where the sandwiches started to slide. Mac had just walked in through the door, and he kept walking until he was at her side to steady both her and the food.

“Careful there,” he said with a smile in his voice. Then he winked at her.

She seemed stunned, and I felt a small but nasty pang of jealousy. I knew he got that reaction often, though, and I also knew that I either came to terms with it and trusted him, or what was growing between us would be worth absolutely nothing in the end.

“Yowza…” Mary breathed. Then she turned to me, “You’re right, Wilder. Pictures don’t do him justice.”

Oops.

“Babe?” Mac murmured, looking at me with one eyebrow raised quizzically. “You’re sending pictures of me around?”

I thought it looked like he was on the verge of laughing, and I could hear Mickey choking behind me but I felt stupid. Of course I’d sent a picture of him to my girlfriends, but I hadn’t exactly meant for him to know that.

“Maybe?” I said vaguely.

“Just one,” Mary said hurriedly. Her brain had apparently caught up with her mouth, and she was trying to backtrack. “Don’t worry, it didn’t show much of your face. If she hadn’t mentioned your green eyes, I wouldn’t have recognized you with your clothes on.”

Hell. Apparently, her brain was still fried. There was no other explanation, and as the men burst out in loud laughter, I tried to explain.

“Your back, Mac. Sent a picture of the tat. Not… you know.”

Not that I had any pictures of him in the buff to send, but considering that my father stood next to me, I still felt a strong need to clarify.

“We’ll talk about this later,” Hawker muttered, and I stared at him.

Why on earth would I talk to him about this?

“Of course you won’t,” Sloane said calmly as she entered the room. “If a girl has a new hot man, then it’s mandatory to send pictures to her girlfriends. Everyone does that,” she added confidently.

I smiled at her. I had no clue why she was suddenly there, but I was nevertheless grateful because she seemed to be on my side.

“Everyone?” Hawker asked, looking incredulous.

“Of co –” Sloane cut herself off, and a blush crept up her neck. She looked like she wanted to slap herself in the forehead, repeatedly.

“Sloane?” Hawker asked warningly.

“Let’s sit down,” she tried to evade, and walked toward the couches, ignoring my father. When he reached out for her, she snapped, “One, okay. And you had clothes on. Now leave it.”

Okay. Apparently, Ms. Parks was now officially my dad’s girlfriend. Or something.

“It’s three in the morning,” Miller rumbled into the silence. “Don’t know about the rest of you but I’m hungry,” he added and walked over to Mary, smiling gently at her. “Feel free to keep calling me salt and pepper hotness, little girl, but I usually go by Miller, and I would love one of those sandwiches.”

Then he took the plate and carried it over to the low table by the fireplace, sat down and promptly started eating. Miller was a few years younger than my father so even though both his long hair and killer goatee was liberally stroked with gray, he wouldn’t have been in any position to call Mary a little girl if it hadn’t been for the fact that she was tiny. At least, tiny compared to everyone else in the room.

After a stunned silence, the rest of us ambled over and sat down to eat before the plate was empty. While we ate, I made introductions, and before long everyone was talking like they’d know each other forever.

I leaned back, happy to watch them all. I wasn’t shy, not in the least, but I had always liked better to remain in the background. Hawker sat next to me, and he was also silent.

Jinx kept glancing over at us, and there was a strange look in her eyes. I cocked my head to the side in a silent question, but that made her start laughing.

“What?” I asked.

“The two of you,” she replied.

I raised both of my brows then, not understanding.

“You might not have raised her, Hawker, but when I look at the two of you… Uncanny,” she said.

Hawker snorted, and perhaps he understood what she meant, but I didn’t.

“Jinx,” I barked.

“You told us you look alike, Wilder, so I was prepared, but it’s more than that. You have the same posture, move the same way. And now you sit there, like two sentinels. Watching everyone and everything around us. You even move your eyes in sync,” she said.

I turned to Hawker, but his eyes were narrowed, and they were on Jinx.

“You’re Jiminella Sweetwater,” he said suddenly.

“Jesus,” Kit whispered and straightened with his brows high on his forehead.

Jinx looked at them calmly, but there was an odd tenseness in her posture as if she was bracing for what they’d say. Then she raised a brow quizzically.

“That’s me,” she said.

“We use the RX45 and the CPQ500 in some of our systems,” Miller said.

I guessed this was something Jinx had come up with, and patented, but I had absolutely no clue what it was.

“Our boy here fixed a few problems with them, though,” Miller added and tilted his head toward his nephew.

Jinx straightened, and the look she gave Kit was scorching.

“There is nothing wrong with –”

“Hot chocolate,” Hawker interrupted.

There was a stunned silence.

“What?” I whispered when everyone else said absolutely nothing.

“It’s late. I’ll go and make hot chocolate for everyone. Then we’ll go to bed,” he declared.

I looked at Mac, but he was watching Hawker.

“I’ll help,” Miller said suddenly, and then they left.

Jinx opened and closed her mouth a couple of times. She had been geared up for a good fight and the weird order from my father that we suddenly were to have hot cocoa had thrown her off track.

“I tweaked them a little to fit our needs. There wasn’t anything wrong with them,” Kit said calmly and took a huge bite out of another sandwich.

“Right,” Jinx snapped.

She turned her head to the side, and I could tell that she wanted to ask him what he’d done. Finally, she swallowed her pride, and then they started talking about details that were so above my head they could have been a different language. I leaned in on Mac, and he put an arm around me, and while we chatted with the others, Hawker and Miller came back to distribute mugs with sweet, hot chocolate.

Beds were organized for everyone, and I knew it was Mary’s doing. She seemed disorganized most of the time and had a way of speaking before she thought her words through, but I knew that when it was needed, she was the steadiest rock to lean on that a friend could have.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as we hugged goodnight.

“Nothing to be sorry about, sweetie. Hilarious moment, all in all,” I whispered back.

Then I walked into the room I’d slept in most nights of my life and got into bed with the man I was falling in love with. He held me, and we talked a little before settling into our usual way of sleeping, him on his back and me tucked into his side.

“Willy would have liked this,” I murmured, knowing that my grandfather would have loved the late night gathering, the laughter, and good mood.

Mac didn’t reply, and I could tell from his breaths that he had fallen asleep, so I relaxed, and did too.

***

I opened my eyes slowly and looked at the watch next to the bed. It was early still, but I was awake in a way that I knew falling back to sleep would be impossible, so I started to shift away from Mac, trying not to wake him. He immediately rolled with me, and on top of me, pressing me into the bed. Then he started kissing me, and I felt his hands move slowly over my body, so even though I had woken up early, it was late when we got into the kitchen.

Miller glanced up from the cup of coffee he’d been staring at as if it would suddenly blurt out some secret way to reach nirvana.

“Jesus,” he snorted.

“What?” I asked as I walked over to the counter to get cups for Mac and me.

I was bouncing with energy and had my back to him when he muttered, “Only one thing that would put that bounce in your step, Wilder, or put that lazy grin on Mac’s face.”

“What?” I breathed and turned slowly.

“Just saying,” he grunted and turned his gaze back to the coffee.

I looked at Mac, and when he winked at me, I felt a blush creep up my neck. Kit was also at the table and was about to say something when Sloane walked into the kitchen, calling out chirpily over her shoulder.

“I’ll make coffee!”

Then my father ambled through the door with a smile on his face that could only be described as lazy.

Oh god.

Mac and Kit immediately burst out into loud laughter, and Miller looked at me with a distinct smirk on his face.

“Right,” I said, desperately trying to figure out what to say that would move the discussion to a topic that wouldn’t make me blush more than I already did. “Do we have more news from the b-”

I cut myself off and glanced at the door. I’d told Mickey about the birds, but I had also told him to keep it a secret, so my girlfriends didn’t know. Aunt Gwen could be around as well, and I didn’t know if she knew about our secrets.

“Don’t worry, Wilder. They’re sleeping,” Hawker said.

“Okay, but it’s late, and Jinx is always up early, so they’ll be here soon. I want to tell them, Dad. They’ll figure it out eventually so I’d rather explain it to them now,” I said.

“We’ll see,” Hawker muttered, which I figured meant no, and then added, “They’ll sleep for a few more hours.”

I stared at him. Then I glared at him because I knew what he’d done.

“You drugged them,” I barked.

“Drug is an ugly word to use, Wilder,” Miller murmured, and I rounded on him.

“Miller? Were you involved in medicating my friends without their knowledge?”

“Course he was,” Hawker murmured. “You should be grateful. I don’t know shit about sleeping pills but being a Vet, he’s at least almost a doctor. I could have sent them on a sleep that lasted a week.”

His lips twitched, and I felt my own do the same because he was in no way repentant and looked a little like a young boy that had been up to mischief.

“Hawker. Really? You drugged my friends?” I said with a sigh.

“Of course he didn’t,” Jinx said from the doorway.

All heads turned to her when she walked into the big kitchen, followed by Mary and Mickey.

“What the hell?” Hawker muttered.

“You are in no way a hot chocolate kind of guy. And I am in no way stupid,” Jinx said calmly and poured coffee into a cup. “Though, if Gwendolyn thinks the plants in the living room looks sleepy, I’m telling on you,” she added with a smirk.

I started laughing.

“Can I tell them?” I asked, still laughing.

Hawker got immediately that I meant about the birds, and he sighed but nodded.

“Okay, so there are a few things that I should tell you. It might sound a bit weird, so I’ll ask you to keep an open mind about it all,” I started, but Jinx gave me no chance to continue.

“Yeah, so you’re a descendant of people who could change into dragons, and it’s likely that you’re all still able to do it. And, you live in your ancestors’ house, and they were called Varg, Vildman, and Vilda.”

“Wh –”

“And I have to add that your ancestors were unquestionably mostly under the influence of whatever they drank back then. Because – the prophecies they wrote down? Jeez.”

“Wh –”

“Have you found the pendant?”

I stared at her and pulled out the necklace from under my tee, holding it up.

“Sweet. I’d like to do some tests on that. Have you found the swords, or maybe Vildman?”

“Jinx,” I breathed. “Stop. You are the devil. How…”

The silence in the room was thick and then she started laughing.

“Don’t look so shocked everyone. It really wasn’t so very difficult to figure out. Mary and I had nothing to do, so when we found the stories in that box next to your bed, Wilder, we read them. I thought Willy wrote them but then Mary told me the paper was thousands of years old and I started to think.”

I sat down with a thud and waved my hand in front of me to indicate that they should do the same. My eyes met Hawkers, and he looked just a shocked as I felt, but when I looked at Mac, he was grinning.

“Tell them,” he prompted.

So I did. It took some time to explain everything about birds and papers hidden in the wall and the dead man in the cave. Then I went on to explain about Paolo and how we thought that he was digging for something north of Double H.

While I talked, Mary started making breakfast and Kit immediately got up to help her. He kept glancing between my two girlfriends and I wondered what he was thinking. I’d been so sure he and Jinx would hit it off immediately, but he had a soft and sweet smile when he looked at Mary so maybe I’d been wrong.

“Can I look at this latest prophecy?” Jinx asked. “The one in the other stories was just a lot of mumbo-jumbo, and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why they wrote it down that stupid way.”

I pulled up the picture I’d taken of the paper and handed her my phone. She looked at it for a while and then she started laughing.

“Yes indeed. Mumbo with a little bit of jumbo.”

“Jinx?”

“But Wilder? If they wanted you to get help from your bird to use parts of the swords while wearing something that you got from your mother – why didn’t they just say so?”

I stared at her.

“Though I don’t know what Mac has to do with it,” she added and got up to top off her coffee.

“Explain,” Hawker growled.

“Sure. Read it out slowly, Wilder?” she asked, and leaned on the counter, calmly sipping coffee.

“Turmoil will reign yet again, unless one from the three –”

“That’s you, Wilder. Descendant to all three groups from back then,” she interrupted.

“… avails of her father's mark –”

“The hawk. Hawker,” she said.

“…to bring the world back from the brink of destruction. One is the removal of one,”

“Well if you hook up with Mac then won’t there be one less birdie-family?”

“Adorning in the legacy of a shadow that passed is two.”

“Your mother was a friggin’ shadow in your life. Don’t know if you should wear a one of her skirts or something, though.”

“Wielding the heart of swords forged in fire is three,” I finished, but my voice was shivering with laughter.

“Naturally, you will need to avail yourself of the swords of the fire dragons, or parts of them,” she concluded with certainty.

I stared at her, full of admiration and Kit whispered quietly, “I’ll be damned.”

She shrugged and threw her hair over her shoulder, but then Miller leaned forward to face her.

“You talk a good talk,” he murmured.

His gaze swept over the group and then his face hardened a little.

“You’re all so impressed, and I have to give you, Jiminella, you have a confidence that is larger than life.”

Uh, what?

He pointed at her, and his face had softened again, but his voice was sure and strong when he continued talking.

“Most of what you said we already knew. We knew it was about Wilder. We knew about the swords. And we still don’t know what the hawk is supposed to do, what she’s meant to wear or why Mac is even included.”

Her face was completely blank, but I could see that she was hurt, but Miller pushed his point even further.

“You made it sound as if you’d solved everything, standing there looking down on us, but in reality, you haven’t told us anything we can actually use.”

Then he turned toward Mary.

“You’ve used your time better, little girl, and I’d gladly eat some breakfast now.

Jinx turned and walked outside without uttering a word, closing the door quietly behind her.

“Miller,” I hissed.

“I’m not wrong, and we are not quite the country hicks she thinks we are. She is a genius, no one can argue against that. But Wilder, it doesn’t give her the right to be an ass,” he said, shoveled a huge chunk of scrambled eggs into his mouth and murmured, “She was one, I called her on it. No big deal.”

Then he continued eating, and Mary started bringing more plates and silverware to the table. I looked at her, and it took some time, but finally, her eyes met mine.

“I think he’s right,” she whispered, and I could tell that it hurt her to continue. “Sometimes she makes people feel stupid when they aren’t. But if she’s so clever, shouldn’t she know better?”

I felt Mac’s arms circle me from behind and then he murmured in my ear, “You need to go talk to her, baby. Mill was harsh, but he wasn’t wrong. It’s no big deal, but he wasn’t wrong, and you know it.”

I did know it, but I didn’t like how the morning had shifted. The mood had been so good, but suddenly everyone was tense and annoyed.

Then I nodded and walked out on the back porch. Jinx was standing at the far end of the porch, looking up toward the mountains.

“Crap,” she murmured when I stopped next to her.

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” I asked.

“No,” she said immediately.

I waited a while and thought about what to say. Jinx did have an enormous confidence, but Miller didn’t know her. She also had a huge heart, and there was nothing she wouldn’t do for her family or her friends.

“He was right,” she whispered, and I jerked.

I’d never thought she would acknowledge that, not even to herself.

“I didn’t see it like that, Wilder, and I didn’t do it to impress…” she turned to me, and her eyes were sad. “At least not much.”

“Jinx…”

“You are so cool,” she started and held a hand up when I wanted to protest. “You are. And Mary is the sweetest. So who am I? How do I fit in? Everyone expected me to be the genius, so I gave them that. Went too far, though.”

She made a face and turned toward the mountains again.

“I’ve dropped out of school.”

“What?” I gasped.

“I hate being me, Wilder. I want to be someone else, so I’m taking some time to figure out who that is.”

She turned to me, and her eyes were shiny.

“Maybe I just want to be normal,” she whispered.

I swallowed and raised an arm to hug her when I heard heavy footsteps behind me.

“Go inside, Wilder,” my father said gently.

I turned and watched Hawker and Miller walk up to us. I searched their faces, but they were not showing any emotions.

“Why?” I asked and placed myself in front of my friend, prepared to fight for her if they were about to chastise her more than they already had.

“Honey, no one is angry,” Miller said, though I didn’t know if it was to Jinx or me.

“Go inside,” Hawker prompted.

“It’s okay, Wilder. I need to talk to them,” Jinx said quietly.

I looked at her a long time, but she seemed to have calmed down and finally, I nodded. Then I walked inside.

Chapter Twenty-one

As easy as that?

Jinx was pale when they got back inside, and Mickey went to her side immediately, sliding an arm around her shoulder and scowling at Hawker.

“Mickey, no,” she murmured.

Then she took a deep breath and turned to the room in general.

“Right. So, I was a bit of an ass before, and I’m sorry,” she said, and added softly, “I didn’t mean to be one, though.”

I knew it cost her to say that, but Mac started speaking before I could get a word out.

“You’re in good company then.”

“What?” she asked, clearly confused.

“I hadn’t planned to tell you, but Hawker is more of an ass than anyone I know,” Mac said, and clarified, “most of the time.”

“Mac,” Hawker barked.

Sloane started laughing and patted his arm, adding softly, “But he’s right, baby.”

I giggled, because of the funny look on my father’s face but also because I knew they said what they did to make Jinx feel better.

“What are you laughing about?” Mac asked curiously.

“Uh,” I murmured.

“Because that’s just strange when you are exactly like your father,” he said, and added sweetly, “You said so yourself, didn’t you?”

“Mac,” I barked.

“See, you even sound like him,” Mac said and grinned.

I frowned at him, thinking that what he did was nice for Jinx, but the joke wasn’t quite as funny when it was on me.

“Jesus,” Jinx murmured. “Can we sit down and talk about the shitgibbon?”

Mickey and I started laughing, but since we were the only ones understanding that this was a reference to Paolo Fratinelli, it took a while before we were seated quietly around the kitchen table.

“Okay,” Hawker started. “Here’s what we know,” he continued and took a moment to gather his thoughts before he continued.

“We know that they’re digging in the mountains north of Double H. They have some equipment up there, and the birds mentioned huge black logs, but my eagle showed them to me, and it isn’t logs. It’s huge pipes.”

He stopped to take a sip of coffee, and I saw how he grabbed hold of Sloane’s hand under the table.

“We suspect, but we don’t know, that they are digging for the crystals that make up the energy fields. We have one section of it on the Norton side of the mountains, and there’s another one just north of here.”

I blinked. Of course, I thought, they had mentioned in the stories how the Dreughan lands were protected on each side of the forest, and the border had been just north of the Heather Houses.

“If they find the crystals, would it even be possible to get the energy out of them?” Mickey asked curiously, looking at Jinx.

“Absolutely,” she responded confidently but then she turned to Kit, adding politely, “Or what do you think?”

His lips twitched, but he answered calmly, “Yes, Jinx. I believe you are perfectly right. I would even go so far as to say that it would be incredibly easy.” Then he added with a voice that was quivering a little, “Or what do you think?”

She snorted but murmured, “Wise-ass,” under her breath.

“Getting just one crystal out of the ground would make them incredibly rich. At least, wealthy enough to continue digging for more,” Mickey said, ignoring their antics.

“They would destroy the mountain,” Sloane said slowly. “Destroy the eco-system and if they continued there would be a risk of landslides.”

“Yes,” Jinx murmured. “It would be even worse if they decided to process the crystals on site, though.”

“Shit,” Kit barked. “The pipes. They would need a lot of cooling water to operate some kind of power plant up there, but they’d have to get rid of that water somehow. That’s why they have the pipes.”

“And that’s why they want me to sell,” I said.

They all turned to me.

“The only water they have up there is the dam, and maybe that would be enough water for what they need. They couldn’t shift the water back into the dam, though.”

I swallowed and turned to Mickey because he knew exactly what I was talking about.

“The dam provides freshwater for Double H but it’s also the main water supply for most of Prosper City,” he whispered.

“Exactly,” I said, finding my voice again. “They would have to use pipes to transport the water around the city, and they can’t do that without passing Double H land. At least not without going far out on the plains and that would cost them a whack.”

“Where would it go,” Mary asked quietly. “The water, I mean. If they could transport it over Double H, then where would it go?”

“Into the ocean,” Kit replied grimly. “They’d have to set up some sort of cleaning system, but however they do it, there are always bi-products from that kind of operation. The impact on the ocean could potentially be disastrous.”

I stared at him, suddenly realizing why Snow, and perhaps also Dante, was helping us.

“He’s crazy. All of this, destroying our whole world, and all of it just for money.”

“Easy to say when you have it, but they have no money in Marshes, Wilder. Not like you do, or like we do in Norton. We started the financial fund hundreds of years ago and kept adding to it until it was big enough to live off. In Marshes, they didn’t. They’re not poor, but things are getting harder with each year,” Mac murmured. “They’re also too proud to ask for help.”

“Are they all in on it?” Sloane asked.

“No,” Hawker asked immediately. “We’ve some contacts who have contacts there, and this seems to be isolated to Paolo and a few others. Most of them have no clue.”

“Can you have them arrested?” I asked.

“Maybe,” Miller murmured.

“But –” Jinx started and then she clamped her mouth shut. Then she muttered a low and hoarse, “Fuck it to hell and back.”

When we stared at her, she straightened and glared at Hawker. His eyes crinkled a little at the corners, but he didn’t say anything.

“Okay. I’m going to say this in the nicest way possible. But really? Why in the hell would you try to have the man arrested when there’s a much easier way to stop them?”

Miller turned slowly to her, but she continued calmly.

“Lodge a complaint against him with the state. He’s breaking the land protection act.”

Say what?

“Jiminella, I do believe you are right,” Miller rumbled, and the tips of his mouth twitched a little. “He would have to explain more details than he’d be willing to share, and he’d also have to get environmental assessments and the likes.”

“Jesus,” Hawker muttered. “We could keep adding to the complaint as well. It would block him for years, and he doesn’t have money for that kind of thing.”

“He could sell the art he got from Willy,” I said. “It would bring in a lot of money.”

Mary had been moving plates and cups to the sink, but she turned slowly then.

“That would be hard,” she said, “seeing as most of it is marked to have special interest to our country.” She smiled softly and murmured affectionately, “Willy the wily.”

She put the frying pan down and leaned on the counter, grinning at our confused faces.

“That means Paolo can’t sell it abroad without smuggling it across the border, which would be difficult since most of it is hanging in museums, accounted for and protected.”

She chuckled and added, “No one in their right mind would try to buy any of it. The museums are publicly funded so they have no admission. Why pay for it when you can watch it for free? Besides, the public outcry would be loud, if someone were to tell the media.”

We just stared at her, and she smiled happily.

“See? I knew my university education would eventually come to more use than teaching me how to do the dishes,” she giggled and swept her hand out, indicating the sink.

Shit. We’d all just sat there while she made breakfast for everyone, and started to clean up. I knew she liked to cook, but she was in no way our maid, and everyone else seemed to have figured the same thing out. We promptly got to our feet and started to do our part of the cleaning. Hawker tried to slip out, murmuring something about calling a lawyer about the complaint but a laughing Sloane pulled him back and gave him a towel.

The mood was light and happy again as we quickly put the kitchen back into order.

***

After that day, things went smooth and easy.

With the help of one of Hawker's contacts we filed legal documents, lodging a complaint against the activities we had seen in the mountains north of Double H. The birds reported back to us that it took less than ten hours for the men to disappear, taking all the equipment with them.

We were all surprised about how quickly Paolo had backed off, and I overheard Hawker and Miller speculating that the foreign investors were just rumors. I didn’t say anything to them about it, but later, I discussed it with Mac.

He shook his head and muttered, “Oh, no. I got cut three times for a reason, and that reason was at least partially because I saw proof of the investors in Fratinelli’s office. They could have backed out of the deal, which would explain why the asshat backed off, but they were not just rumors.”

I agreed with him and worried. I’d called Paolo, thinking that I should thank him for our lovely visit, but he didn’t pick up his phone and never called back. That pissed me off because even though I didn’t really want to talk to the man, I had nevertheless wasted both time and energy working out some plausible lies for why Mac had been in the hospital and why we’d gone to Norton later. I’d planned to say that we’d crashed with his bike and since I’d been driving I had felt that it was my responsibility to nurse him back to health.

Jinx was the only one who wasn’t surprised that everything suddenly was peaceful at Double H.

“Brain always wins over brawn,” she smirked.

That set me off, so I objected and then one thing led to another, and we ended up in a fight, involving finger pointing and loudly shouted insults. Hawker was visiting the ranch, and he’d brought Kit, so both of them got involved. My father was on my side, but Kit tried valiantly to stay neutral, and after a lot of cajoling on his part we settled down and continued discussing the use of “always” versus “sometimes.”

Mac was in Norton, but he laughed when I told him later that night. We spent most of our time together, driving up and down between the ranch and the mountains, but sometimes his work kept him in Norton while I had to be at Double H.

Uncle Andy had been released from the hospital, but it was clear that there would be a lot of rehabilitation needed in the months to come. Olly had stayed at Double H the whole time, and when I asked him about the other job he had, he just shrugged.

“Olly,” I prompted, nudging him with my shoulder to get him to speak.

This was not an easy task because he was a man of extremely few words, though I’d realized immediately that when he actually made an effort to say something, you’d better listen because it was always good advice.

“Left the job,” he muttered and picked up a sack of feed like it weighed next to nothing when it, in fact, would be heavier than me.

Olly was huge, like his father, and he looked like a thug. He shaved his head and had jet black tattoos slithering up from his back over his neck up on the base of his skull. I hadn’t asked him what kind of bird he had but assumed that it was an owl just like his mother, Byrd.

“You left your job? But Olly –” I protested, but he started talking, and my mouth fell open because I’d never heard him utter so many words in a row.

“You are one of us, and you will take your place with us when the time is right. Hawker doesn’t see it yet, Wilder, but he will. And Mickey… He’s your brother, your family, so that makes him my family, and being there for your family when they need it is just how it’s done.”

I gaped at him.

“My place in what?” I asked.

“You know what we do, right? How we use the birds?” he countered.

I got it then. He meant that I should take my place in their group, and start working with them to guard our world. Suddenly, it all clicked into place, and I relaxed.

Yes. This was what I wanted, and when I thought about it, who Willy had raised me to be. I’d done martial arts training, had been shooting and driving bikes since I was just a kid and he’d put me on my first pair of skis when I was not even two years old. He’d approved of my engineering studies but encouraged me, even more, when I wanted to study our history and how different groups had worked and lived through the past century.

“He won’t like it, though,” Olly murmured and moved to walk away.

“Don’t worry about it, I can handle my dad,” I said, hoping that I wasn’t wrong and not looking forward to the argument we’d have about this.

“Meant Mac,” Olly muttered just before he disappeared around the corner of our barn.

I stewed on that during the next couple of days, wondering what I’d do if Mac didn’t want me in the group. Could he even not want me in the group? I had a bird, didn’t I?

When Mac drove up the lane that weekend, I suddenly realized that Olly had timed his comment well, and I wondered if he’d done that deliberately. The days I’d had to think it all through before Mac came had been just enough time to work out what I would say. If I’d had just blurted it out and Mac had protested, I would have thrown myself right into a tantrum. Even though I was sure that we would have agreed on some kind of compromise, in the end, there would have been a fight at first.

Instead, Mac swung off his bike and then there was the usual welcome, which involved me running down the steps to get spun around in a wide circle, followed by him kissing me as if he’d been away at war for a year and not in his condo for a few days. Mickey had teased me about it and said that it would be good when we settled into our relationship and behaved with more dignity, but I hoped that we never would. Mac had a way of making me feel special that I hoped would last forever.

After dinner, I pulled Mac along for a walk.

“Falk…” I murmured with my sweetest voice, thinking that it would put him in a good mood for the rest of that conversation.

“What do you want?” he asked and stopped to face me.

“Nothing,” I murmured, thinking that, shit, why could I never, ever, pull one over on him?

“Spit it out, baby,” he said.

“I want to be a part of the group, so I talked to my bird and we can help. We need to help,” I murmured.

He looked down on his black boots and sighed.

“Olly talked to you?” he muttered.

“Yes. But Mac…” I started but trailed off and waited until he raised his head again and looked at me. “You should have said something.”

This was one of the things that I’d thought a lot about in the past days. Hawker should have said something to me about it, but I got why he hadn’t. My father was very bossy, but also very protective. He’d not want me to do anything that could put me in harm's way.

I didn’t get why Mac hadn’t brought it up, and I was nervous. Maybe he didn’t think I’d add anything to the group.

“You know that I love you, right?” he asked quietly.

What? No, I didn’t exactly know that. At least, he’d never told me, and I was pretty sure I would have remembered.

“Wh –”

“The thing is…” he looked down on the ground again and when he spoke it was so quiet I had to lean closer to hear the words. “I love you, baby, but I probably need you even more. It isn’t just that I like being with you, or that you make me think, or how you make me laugh. You’re sexy as hell, but that’s not it either.”

I forgot to breathe for a while, and then I sucked in air because my head started to spin. My whole body softened and when he turned his head a little to the side to look at me under his brow he looked so much like a very young, vulnerable boy that my heart skipped a beat.

I put my hand on his cheek, and he leaned into it.

“I need you in ways I can’t explain, and I’m not entirely comfortable thinking about it. Knocked the wind out of me at first and it took a while until I found steady ground again.”

He kissed the palm of my hand and grinned crookedly.

“Then I realized that you need me just as much, Wilder, and that made it easier. Still… I’ve never had what we have together, and I know there’s tons of shit we should have talked about, but I needed some time to find my way around everything that was happening.”

I held his gaze and knew with everything that I was that I’d never seen anything more beautiful than the look in his eyes.

“Okay,” I said, thinking that I should have said something not quite so forgettable but there was a thick lump lodged in my throat and I couldn’t seem to think.

“I can’t lose you, but I get that we’d lose a part of what we have if I hold you back, baby, so we’ll have to figure out how to do it in a way that keeps me sane, yeah?” he murmured.

Warmth settled inside my chest, and I smiled.

“I love you,” I whispered. “We’ll find a way.”

I’d never thought that I’d say those words to anyone, hadn’t wanted to feel like I felt at that moment. But he was right, I needed him, more than air. More than life itself.

He leaned down and put his forehead against mine. I closed my eyes and then we stood there in the darkness behind the barn.

“Falk,” I murmured after a while, just to hear his name.

“Yeah,” he sighed.

Then we continued walking, and he held my hand but the moment had felt huge, momentous, and a kiss against the barn wall seemed somehow wrong.

“Have you told your da yet?” he asked after a while.

“Hell no,” I chuckled.

“Can I be there?”

“To make sure, he doesn’t strangle me?”

“Something like that, yeah,” he replied and then his laughter echoed through the darkness.

Chapter Twenty-two

Bait

I started training with my bird the next day, and she was just as eager as I was. We talked a bit about all the other birds, whom she seemed to know surprisingly well. At first, it was rather confusing, and I asked her be slightly more specific and not refer to each bird as “Bird.” She thought this was unnecessary and apparently stupid, but after a brief argument, she got my point and reluctantly agreed.

Mac and I had decided that before we talked to Hawker, I’d work with the bird to see how I felt about it. He’d also insisted that I’d pick up my martial arts training again. I’d been reluctant because it meant driving down to Prosper regularly but he’d laughed and pointed at Olly who was walking across a field quite some distance away from us.

The huge man was apparently some kind of expert fighter, according to Mac. My father and Miller was apparently also good fighters, “Though, probably more of the bar room brawl variety,” Mac chuckled.

“What about you?” I asked.

“Rarely fight,” he said with a grin. “Did some boxing in Uni, though.” Then his smile faded away, and he added quietly, “I’m usually the sniper, Wilder.”

I thought about that for a while, and what it meant.

“Do you have different roles in the group?” I asked

“Sort of, yeah. Hawker, Mill, and Olly usually take down whoever needs to be taken down. I have their backs with my rifle or knives. Kit and Byrd are good with guns too, but they mostly do intelligence and deal with technical stuff, like surveillance and such.”

They seemed to have a well-functioning team, so what would be my role in it?

“You’ll find your way, baby,” he murmured, reading my thoughts, or maybe my face.

“Okay,” I said, hoping I would. “Do you kill people, Mac?” I asked.

“I try not to,” was his soft reply.

Okay. That probably meant he had. I thought about that in the days that followed, while I trained with the bird or sparred with Olly who was surprisingly agile in spite of his massive frame.

Could I kill another person? I didn’t know.

Miller was in Norton, so Mac was free to stay at Double H. Our cattle were healthy again, and even though they’d had to put a few more down in the first days after the nitrate poisoning, I knew that all in all, we’d been lucky. Without Snow’s Osprey, things would have been far worse.

“Talked to Annie today,” Mac mumbled through a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

“Okay,” I replied, not finding anything strange about him talking to our regular Vet.

“She wants to cut back hours, semi-retire,” he added.

“Really?”

This wasn’t so surprising, but it was disappointing because she’d been our Vet for as long as I can remember.

“Asked me to partner up at her practice,” Mac continued, and when he saw my face, he continued immediately, “I said no, babe. Can’t be tied down with fixed hours, you know that.”

“Of course,” I agreed, but I was a bit disappointed.

It would have been sweet if he’d worked closer to Double H.

“I told her we could talk to Rider, though. So we did and agreed that we’d shift primary responsibilities for Double H from her to me. That way, she can cut back some immediately.”

I blinked. I’d just been thinking that it would be nice to have Mac closer, but it felt weird that he’d gone behind my back to talk to Uncle Andy.

“I have no say in this?” I asked slowly.

“Well, no,” he said, looking surprised.

“You decided this with Uncle Andy?” I asked, and his head came up when he heard the tone in my voice.

“You don’t want me here?”

“Of course I want you here, don’t be stupid,” I snapped.

“Right. And Rider runs the ranch, head of operations and all that,” he said. “Of course I talked to him, and of course you have no say in who he employs as the ranch’s Vet.”

I didn’t even know what to say about that. He was right in everything he said, but it was still a pretty big decision that he should have talked to me about first.

“Jesus, Wilder. What crawled up your ass now?” he murmured.

“Maybe the fact that you didn’t even think to discuss with your girlfriend about a major decision, such as where you live and work?” I asked sarcastically.

I could actually see in his eyes how the validity in what I said dawned on him. He still looked like a thundercloud.

“Okay. Fair point. Though, this all happened in a brief conversation between Annie, Rider and me outside the barn less than an hour ago. I should, of course, have left them to go inside to check with my girlfriend if I could live with her,” he said in a voice dripping with sarcasm, and went on, “and if she allowed me to work on her ranch?”

Oh. Well, I hadn’t known that, had I?

“I’m gonna go to the barn, check on one of the cows who has a pretty nasty eye infection,” he growled and tossed his cutlery on the table. “If that’s okay with you, of course,” he added curtly but didn’t wait for my reply.

The door slammed shut with a loud thud.

At first, I stewed on it, thinking our argument through, and explaining to myself all the ways I’d been right to push my point.

After a while, I calmed down, though, and a sneaky suspicion that even though I’d been right, he had been too. He’d assumed that I wanted him to be at Double H with me, and when I thought about it – with how we were, why would he think differently? And it wasn’t like it was a full-time job. Annie hadn’t spent more than a few hours each week at Double H, and during the calving season she had help.

So, I decided, the bottom line was that I’d been right that we should discuss how our life together would evolve, but he’d been right to jump on the opportunity to be with me at the ranch when it came up.

Crap, I thought. Being in a relationship wasn’t easy, and also... now I’d have to apologize, at least partially, and I hated that.

I’d put my jacket on and was on my way out to Mac when my phone rang. I looked at the display and did a double take, turned and walked back into the kitchen as I answered.

“Hey, Paolo,” I said, making my voice cheerful and happy.

I wondered why he was contacting me all of a sudden, when he hadn’t picked up in the past few weeks when I’d called him. The others thought that he had gone back to Marshes to sulk over the fact that he’d had to abandon his crazy scheme to set up some kind of power plant in the mountains.

They’d relaxed, even more, when Mary had called to share that there were rumors in the art circles that Paolo Fratinelli had made inquiries to some of the major art collectors if they would be interested in buying some of the pieces Willy had acquired over the years. She’d laughed and told hilarious stories about the replies he supposedly had received, which had ranged from “no thanks” to “I hope Willy Callaghan comes back from the dead to shit in your bed before you go to sleep.”

I was still worried. The others didn’t know Paolo the way I did, didn’t understand his stubbornness and determination. If he wanted something, he went after it, no matter the cost. I’d talked to my father, but he calmly stated that, “The idiot is back to his usual petty smuggling and he’s doing okay on that. He’s still the richest man in Marshes, and that’ll be enough for him, I think.”

That didn’t seem like Paolo to me. He wouldn’t let go of such a lucrative idea that easily. I’d talked to Mac, but he wanted to wait until we had some proof and then go to Hawker again.

I’d asked my bird to circle the area almost daily and looked through her eyes. A few times I thought I saw movement, but it had turned out to be nothing. We were pretty sure that we knew where they thought the crystal was located and I wanted to go up there and bury it deeper, but Mac said to wait for more intel from Kit who apparently was working with some mysterious contacts.

All this waiting and inactivity was making me jittery, and I was anxious to do something, so I’d called Paolo a few times, leaving chirpy messages about how good our short time in Marshes had been.

“Hello, Wilder. I’m sorry I haven’t called you back. I’ve been away on a business trip, and got your messages just now,” he said.

Yeah, right, I thought, but I made my voice sweet as honey and cooed, “There’s no need for you to apologize, Paolo, I know how busy you are.”

“Everything is fine at Double H? Is Farnham better?” he asked.

“It’s okay, I guess,” I said, and added, “Uncle Andy is back at home, but he isn’t in a very good shape. It was an awful accident, and he can’t quite manage the ranch. My so called father made one of his men come, but he isn’t doing much, and Mickey is trying, but he can’t manage on his own…” I trailed off, and then I remembered how we had left Marshes, so I added hastily, “And we had an accident on our way back from Marshes, Paolo. It was all my fault,” I started and then I spoke for quite some time about how we’d slid on the gravel and how Mac had scraped his side.

“I had to go to Norton and help him while he was healing, and now I’m back at the ranch, but it’s all so much…”

“Oh, my poor girl,” Paolo murmured. “I’m sure it’s all too much for you. I could send someone to help you if you wish? I have a cousin –”

Oh no. I did not want that awful man to live with us at Double H, so I cut him off.

“I’m thinking about selling, Paolo,” I murmured, and the silence that came through the phone was deafening. “There have been some legal issues too, although I don’t understand why Hawker made such a fuzz about it all, and I think it’s all too much for me.”

I wondered if I was laying it on a little too thick because I had in no way ever been stupid or helpless and surely Paolo would know this?

“I’m sure it’s hard for you, and I would be happy to buy the ranch to help you out, but that will take some time, Wilder. It’s a big property, and I would need some time to shift money from my other corporations.”

Or get those foreign investors back into the deal, more likely.

“There are others who are interested,” I lied.

Then an idea popped into my head. It would probably have been better to have thought it through a little bit better, but I spoke before I could stop myself.

“I’m not really into the details, Paolo, but I thought that maybe we could do another kind of deal? Maybe the art collections you got from Gramps would be worth the same as Double H? Then we could just trade them?”

“What?” he breathed, and I could almost hear how he had started salivating.

“Or at least part of the collection perhaps? Then I could sell some and build a house somewhere else, maybe even in Marshes? Some of the wonderful things Willy gathered over the years could be used there?”

He choked and started coughing but collected himself quickly.

“We could do something like that. I still have the appraisal from the settlement of your grandfather’s estate, and –”

“You are much better at these business deals than me, Paolo,” I murmured. “Whatever you decide will be fine with me.”

“Okay, Wilder. Don’t you worry, I’ll have everything drawn up and ready for you to sign within just a few days,” he crooned.

“Okay,” I said.

Then I raised my head and looked straight into two very green and very angry eyes.

“Oh,” I said before I could stop myself. “I have to go, Paolo.”

“Of course. You have a good night now, my girl. I will call you in a day or two?”

“Yes. And, Paolo…” I trailed off and held Mac’s eyes. Then I whispered sweetly into the phone, “Thank you.”

I closed the call and smiled weakly at Mac. I knew I had to apologize for our fight before so I gathered my thoughts.

Before I had the chance to say anything, he turned and walked away.

“Mac,” I called out.

“I need a minute, Wilder. Be right back,” he ground out between clenched teeth.

Then the door slammed shut with another bang.

I stared at it and heard vaguely how the door to the living room opened. As I heard Mac roar loudly outside, Mickey entered the kitchen.

“What did you do?” he asked with a grin.

He looked tired, and I felt guilty. I should have tried to do more at Double H instead of working with my bird or training with Olly. Mickey had school, and he’d taken on a lot of the business side of the ranch as well as helping his mother care for Uncle Andy. We’d not spent much time just him and me, and when I saw how he had dark circles under his eyes, I could have kicked myself.

What kind of friend was I, following my new boyfriend around like a puppy, not helping my best friend take care of what actually was my duty in the first place?

“You look tired, Mickey. I’ll hire someone to do the business side of the ranch. I’ll do more myself and –”

“Don’t. I spent last night with Olly and a few of the boys at the Roadside Bar and Grill. Hung over hugely, that’s all. Dad’s doing most of the business side again, and Olly manages the rest. Mom doesn’t need any help either. They’re both driving me nuts, in particular on a day after a night out with the boys, so I came to ask if I could stay here instead of with them?”

“But –”

“So what did you do?” he asked and tilted his head toward the back door to indicate the thumping that came from our back porch.

Was Mac kicking the wall?

I quickly explained what Mac said, what I said, what Paolo said, and then what Mac said.

Mickey started laughing half way through my explanation, and then Mac walked back into the kitchen. He looked like he wanted to strangle someone and I hoped it wasn’t me.

“Wilder,” Mickey said before we could say anything. “You were right. Mac should have talked to you. But don’t you see? You did the same thing, made big decisions without talking to him first.”

Oh. Crap, I’d done that.

“Worse,” Mac growled. “Did she tell you? She deliberately baited Fratinelli. We almost have him on smuggling illegal substances into the country. Been doing it small scale for years but he’s stepped it up lately, and we decided to shut him down. If she’d just waited for a few –”

“How was I supposed to know that?” I shouted angrily.

I couldn’t believe what he’d said. Paolo was some kind of drug lord too?

“She’s got you there,” Mickey murmured. “When are you going to let her into your little private miniature army? Or me, for that matter?”

What? Mickey had not only figured out what they did? He wanted to be part of it as well?

“Shit,” Mac muttered and pulled out his phone, punched the screen angrily and put it to his ear. “Your daughter is a nuisance,” he barked.

There was a long silence, and Mac got a pained look on his face.

“This was not said to amuse you,” he growled to what I surmised was my laughing father, then he snapped, “Baited Fratinelli. Told him she’d swap the ranch for Willy’s art.”

Another silence ensued.

“Right,” he clipped, closed the call and threw the phone on the counter. “They’ll be here tomorrow by lunchtime.”

Mickey put an arm around my shoulders, and I leaned into him, grateful for the support. Then I took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, and went on, “About before because you should have talked to me but I get why you didn’t. And about Paolo, but I didn’t know that you were doing something about him. You all said that he wasn’t a problem, so I didn’t know you were investigating.”

Mac’s face softened and then he sighed.

“I’ll have more gray hair than Hawker before long.”

Since my father didn’t have any at all, that wouldn’t be so very hard, but I figured that this was not the time to inform him of that. Instead, I waited.

“I’m sorry too, baby. You were wrong to fly off like you did, but you were right. I should have talked to you,” he murmured softly.

I started smiling, but he wasn’t done.

“We shouldn’t have kept you out of what we did about Fratinelli, but Hawker and I just wanted to protect you.”

“Bad decision,” I said calmly.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Guess we’ll have that talk tomorrow about including you in the group somehow. Hawk will have a shit-fit, but he’ll get around. Olly is on your side if that helps? Said all the time that we were wrong, so he’ll be one smug bastard for weeks now.”

“Fantastic,” I said.

I walked over to the fridge and brought out a bottle of water.

“What about me?” Mickey asked, and then he shocked me. “With dad out of commission, you’ll need someone handling the business side, looking at financials, taxes, that sort of thing. I’d like to be the one doing it. Dad said he’d help me as much as he could if I needed it.”

Uncle Andy was involved too, apparently, though when I thought about it, it wasn’t so strange.

“Who else is involved?” I asked Mac.

“Can’t tell. That’s for Hawker to share, if and when he feels like it,” he replied immediately.

“Okay,” I said.

That was only fair, I guessed.

“We good?” Mac murmured then.

I stared at him, not sure what he was asking. Of course, we were good. Or weren’t we?

“I don’t know. Are we?” I asked right back.

“Love you, baby, so we’d better be,” he muttered.

“Okay then,” I said, but I did it smiling.

We’d had another fight, and an important one, not about something silly like who went in the front seat of a car, and we’d gotten through it. I decided that we’d go to bed early that night because we had some more making up to do.

Then I realized what Mickey had asked, and turned to him.

“You can absolutely stay here, but you get the guest room down the hall, and you keep the door closed at night.”

“Jesus,” Mickey muttered.

Mac started laughing.

Chapter Twenty-three

Brain over brawn

They rolled in just after noon, all of them, led by Hawker. Miller was right behind him as usual, and I saw Byrd’s long hair in a braid underneath her helmet on the next bike. I wondered if this was an indication of their hierarchy and figured it probably was.

I stood on the front porch, flanked by Mac and Mickey.

Hawker looked searchingly at me and then at Mac as he walked up the steps to stop in front of me, and I think Mac managed to convey some kind of message to him because his jaws clenched.

“For fuck's sake, Wilder,” he growled in my face.

“Whatever,” I replied breezily and turned to the others who were waiting by the bikes. “Hi guys,” I called out happily and waved at them.

Miller was the only one who smiled, but Byrd had her lips pressed together, so I think she held her grin back.

“Wilder,” Mac murmured.

“No,” I snapped and turned to my father. “No,” I repeated.

I had planned all morning what I would say, and I did not hesitate to lay it all out.

“Except for the men who stands at my sides today, none of you know me. Not really,” I said.

My eyes turned to Hawker, and his face had hardened as I spoke. I felt sorry for him, but I clamped down on my feelings and stared straight into his eyes.

“If you keep pushing me away, you will eventually push me so far away you can’t reach me anymore. You have a choice to make today.”

Hawker started to speak but I raised my hand, and he closed his mouth again.

“I will not beg because I don’t have it in me, and also because I shouldn’t have to. All I’m saying is that either I am included, or I’m excluded. Your choice.”

Then I raised my chin and waited. I felt Mac grab my hand and hold it in a firm grip, slowly caressing the top of mine with his thumb. I didn’t turn to him, but I couldn’t stop my face from softening at his show of support. Out of nowhere, my hawk suddenly swept across the crowd in front of me. She shrieked loudly and then she landed on the fence that went around the front porch. I stared at her, and she turned her head slowly toward me, and I could have sworn she winked.

“Hey there, Wilder,” she chuckled and turned to look at my father.

Suddenly Olly walked out of the barn, took one look at the gathering, and walked past everyone, grinning hugely. He nodded at his mother when he passed her but continued up the steps to place himself next to Mac, facing the others.

“Morons,” I heard him murmur under his breath.

I held my father’s eyes and waited, hoping that he wouldn’t turn away but expecting him to put up a fight.

“For fuck's sake, Wilder,” my dad repeated, but kept right on growling, “You were included the second you were born, so it’s fucking ridiculous to watch you standing there making grand speeches. Now get out of my fu –”

A soft but incredibly determined voice cut him off.

“I thought I told you a thousand times that you need to clean up your language. Have I not done that?”

Then Sloane stepped out on the porch.

“For f –” Hawker cut himself off and to my surprise, he did what he was told. “What are you doing here, if I may ask?” he said with considerable snark in his voice.

“I called her of course,” I said amicably. “Now come inside everyone. Aunt Gwen has made lunch, and Uncle Andy is waiting.”

I turned and walked inside, trying my best to look cool and collected but my heart was beating wildly. Mac guessed accurately that my knees were shaking a little, so he put his arm around my shoulder, steadying me.

“You weren’t lying when you said you knew how to manage your da, baby,” he said.

“Don’t think I didn’t hear that,” my dad growled behind us.

“Assumed you would,” Mac said and threw a cocky grin over his shoulder.

The others chuckled, and Miller laughed out loud, but he also put a hand on Hawker’s shoulder, which I assumed was his way of offering support.

We sat down on the back porch and while we ate, they took turns in filling me in on how the group operated, and shared details about their investigation of Paolo.

I told them all about the deal I had made with Paolo and got mixed reactions back. Hawker and Miller thought he wouldn’t fall for it, saying that he couldn’t possibly be that stupid. Kit thought he absolutely was exactly that stupid, and so did Uncle Andy.

The afternoon passed slowly, and we’d just agreed to arrange for where everyone would sleep when my bird called out.

“Wilder!”

“Hey, Bird,” I replied.

“Bird by the water says Paolo is coming with men. Says good Snow wants you to know that he is desperate. Foreigners demand proof now. He is going to get proof.”

“What?” I breathed out loud and waved my hand to make the others stop moving and talking.

“Father’s eagle says cars are moving up the mountain. Falcon is with him, following them.”

I turned to Hawker and his eyes narrowed.

“Red kites and owl are watching the crystal. The ugly bird is there too. They wait for orders.”

“Okay. Thanks. I’ll tell Hawker and let you know,” I said and turned to the others.

“My bird heard from Snow’s osprey. Paolo is going to get the crystal so he can show it to his investors. Hawker’s eagle says cars are moving up the mountain already and he’s following them with the falcon. The kites and the others are already waiting at the site where they think the crystal is and they’re waiting for orders.”

Stunned silence ensued.

“What do I tell her?” I asked Hawker.

“Your bird talks to the other birds?” he asked.

He looked incredulous, but I stomped my foot, not in the least interested in starting up another discussion about communication channels between the birds.

“What do I tell her?” I repeated, and he snapped out of his stupor.

“Tell her we’re coming.”

Then everything went into overdrive. Hawker was barking out orders, and suddenly Byrd and Kit had set up some kind of command central on my back porch, and they were talking rapidly to Mickey who apparently was supposed to be in charge of it.

Miller disappeared to come back with the contents of Willy’s gun safe, handing out weapons to Olly, Byrd, and Kit. When he stretched a rifle out to Mac, he got a quick head shake, and then Mac turned to me with an apologetic smile.

“Another thing I probably should have told you. I have one of my rifles under our bed.”

I started laughing, and his brows went up.

“Seems like we’ll have plenty to talk about when this is all over,” I said.

“Babe,” he said, but he smiled when he walked off to get his gear.

No one gave me a weapon of any kind, so I calmly walked in and put a holster with a pistol in my belt, securing it to my thigh. I wasn’t very good with small guns, but it would be better than nothing. Then I walked off to get my dirt bike.

When I got back everyone had gathered in front of the house, and I saw Hawker’s mouth tighten when he saw me, but he didn’t protest.

“Where are we going?” I asked sweetly.

“We’ll let the birds guide us,” Miller said calmly.

“That you can certainly do,” I agreed, but added calmly, “Or you could follow me.”

I saw how Olly turned his face down toward his bike, smiling widely. Once I explained how I’d been training with my bird and seen where they were, and after pointing out rather forcefully that I had indeed grown up in these mountains, Hawker agreed that it would be better to let me show the way. Everyone got up on their bikes and began starting up their engines. The air vibrated with the roar of pipes, and I wondered how their cruisers would hold up in the terrain, but they all acted as if they drove off-road with them all the time so I figured that they probably did.

“Wilder,” Sloane said, suddenly at my side. “I don’t know why, but my dragonflies all keep telling me that you need to have this,” she said and pushed a small backpack into my hands.

I heard a soft clunking sound and felt the shape of the cups from the fire dragons’ swords inside the bag.

“Don’t ask why because I don’t know. They just say you need it,” she said.

I thought about the prophecy and how we had failed at making reason of it. We’d tried various ways to get the stack of cups to be of some kind of use but without luck. Kit and Jinx had measured the angles and sat together to do enormous calculations, fighting and laughing, but not coming up with any solution. They were convinced that, with the right angles and enough light, it should be possible to make some kind of condensed light, though.

Then Hawker called out that we were leaving and since it wouldn’t be in the way, I pushed the pack onto my back and headed up the mountain with a long line of bikes following me.

When we approached the area my bird, and I had found, I slowed down and signaled to Hawker that we should stop.

“It’s a few hundred meters straight ahead. Do we stop and walk or do we ride in?” I asked.

“Bird says Paolo and his men are already there and they’ve heard us coming for a while now.”

Then he started moving his hands in various directions, pointing and gesturing. Byrd and Kit drove off, and I realized I had stuff to learn because I understood little of it. Mac was next to leave, and he rolled by us, giving me an intense look, and I saw his mouth form words that I thought were, “Love you.” Then he disappeared up the hill, and I was left with Hawker, Miller, and Olly.

“You go in the back, Wilder. When we get closer, you stop as soon as I give the signal,” Hawker ordered.

I nodded, knowing well that I was new to this and would be in the way if I made the wrong move.

“Be careful and stay out of trouble,” he said harshly, and I nodded again.

Then we drove straight up the hill, faster than before. When we were almost in the clearing, Hawker raised his hand. I slowed down and watched them barge straight into mayhem.

Shots were immediately fired from several angles, and I held my breath. Then I got off my bike and started walking closer, moving between the trees and crouching down low. It had seemed like a short distance, but it took me some time to get there, and most of the fight was over before I reached the edge of the clearing. I wanted to scream at what I saw.

Miller and Olly were both on their backs, and they weren’t moving. Paolo was standing in the middle holding a pistol in his hand, pointing it at Hawker who was still standing. I realized immediately that he had no gun.

“Bird,” I called out.

“Bird says the man is in place with his long rifle,” she replied calmly.

I exhaled. Mac was in place. He would shoot Paolo. Hawker must have known that too because he suddenly spoke and he sounded almost bored.

“Fratinelli,” he murmured politely.

“Johns,” Paolo sneered.

“You’ll never get that crystal. You know that, right?” Hawker asked.

“You’ll never know because you’ll be dead,” Paolo replied.

“Shouldn’t think so,” my crazy dad snorted with ill-concealed humor.

What the hell was he thinking?

Then the shot came, and I gasped. Mac had said that he was the sniper, but I hadn’t realized what that meant. He must have been hidden at a distance somewhere, but he still managed to hit Paolo’s pistol and knock it out of his hand.

Hawker turned to the side and grinned toward what I assumed was Mac. Then he turned to Paolo.

“Right,” he said calmly and started walking.

That’s when Paolo rushed toward him, pulling out a knife he’d hidden under the sleeve of his jacket. He threw himself at my father and knocked him over. I heard Hawker grunt as they landed, and then they rolled around on the ground. Mac would never be able to get a clear shot, I thought. Then Paolo was on top, and he raised the knife. Hawker pushed back at the arm, but Paolo quickly raised his other hand and punched my father straight in the face.

“Sword of the fire dragons…” my bird suddenly whispered softly.

Without giving myself time to think I pulled at the backpack, but it snagged in my leather jacket, so I pulled it all off and dug out the cups. They were still stacked together, and I held them out. Jinx’ words came to me, almost as if she was there, whispering them to me.

“Brain always wins over brawn.”

We hadn’t figured out how to use them for anything, but Paolo didn’t know that, and I could fool him. I had to because I couldn’t let that horrible man harm my father, so without looking at Miller and Olly, I walked into the clearing. I stopped next to the hole they had dug in the ground.

“Paolo!”

My shout echoed in the sudden stillness.

Hawker was still on his back, and I wasn’t sure if he was dead, unconscious or waiting for an opportunity to attack. I didn’t dare to look.

Then I crouched and quickly pulled the tarp covering the hole away, and there it was.

The crystal.

It didn’t look at all as I expected. I’d thought it would be somehow like a huge diamond, but it looked like nothing I’d ever seen before. It was as big as my fist, oval and had a half translucent, white, milky, color. It was beautiful, mesmerizing, and I froze for a second, but then I tore my eyes away from it, stood up and held the cups out over the hole.

“I will let the light pass through these, and it will destroy the crystal,” I said, thinking that I sounded rather silly and pompous, but with no time to prepare, that was the best I could come up with.

“You will not,” Paolo said. “That will kill your birds, and you won’t risk that.”

“Nothing is more important to me than my father, Paolo. I don’t expect you to understand that, but that’s how it is. I will do anything to keep him safe,” I said.

My voice was strong and sure, and I realized that this was because I told the truth. I’d wondered before if I could kill someone, but right then it was clear to me that to save someone you loved, you could do anything.

Then I leaned forward.

“You’ve lost Paolo,” I said calmly, wondering why the hell Mac didn’t shoot the man. Surely he must have a clear shot?

Suddenly Paolo rushed forward, and he was quicker than I expected. I tried to jump out of the way, but I slipped on the edge of the hole and then Paolo was there.

He didn’t reach for me, though. He reached for the cups I held in my hands. I held on tighter, and he started pulling, twisting them toward his chest, but I refused to let go.

Damn it, Mac, I thought. Why aren’t you making the shot?

“Wilder,” Mac called out as if he’d heard my thoughts, and I heard footsteps moving toward us.

Paolo jerked, and that brought me closer to him. He continued pulling me until I was bending forward, but I still refused to let go of the cups. Then I heard a clunking sound and looked down. The dragon pendant I had hanging around my neck in its long chain had somehow gotten out of my shirt and swung in the air just above the cups.

Suddenly, the clouds parted and the late afternoon sun rays fell on the pendant. It swung around and then the light went through the pale green stone that was the dragon’s eye, and into the cups.

Without any warning, there was a loud sizzling sound and Paolo choked in a weird gurgling way. Then he let go of the cups and fell to the ground.

I stood there, staring at him. He didn’t move, and his eyes were open, but they had glazed over. I knew without a doubt that he was dead.

Suddenly there was movement all around me. Kit and Byrd rushed into the clearing, directly to Olly and Miller. Mac came straight toward me, but when he saw Hawker, he stopped and went down on his knees. I ran to them then.

My father had a long cut on his upper arm and another, smaller in his left thigh. His breath was rattling in and out through a throat that sounded tight. Too tight.

“Mac,” I wailed.

“That fucker,” Mac said hoarsely.

Then he calmly put a hand in his pocket and pulled out a small object, twisted off one end and a long sharp needle suddenly protruded from a slim tube. With a swift, hard jab he punched the needle deep into Hawker's injured thigh.

I blinked.

“What?” I whispered.

“I learned from what happened to me,” he murmured absentmindedly. “Epi-pen. Antihistamine and a few other useful things.”

Then he slapped Hawker on the cheek a few times.

“Come on, man. Not the time to take a break,” he muttered, and slapped my dad again, slightly harder.

With a choking sound, Hawker opened his eyes. They came to me first, but he turned to Mac and growled, “Bitch-slap me again, son, and you’ll never make me a grandfather.”

I chuckled and leaned back but then I remembered the other men and looked around frantically.

Both Miller and Olly was sitting up, and I gasped.

“Vests, baby,” Mac said. “Bulletproof, but they got hit close range, so they both went down for a while. Mill’s probably got a few cracked ribs too. Nothing ever harms Olly.”

Oh. I clearly had more to learn. And a vest to purchase, apparently.

Mac and a grimacing Miller looked Paolo over, but there were no marks on his clothes or his body, and they couldn’t find anything that indicated why he’d died. Byrd and Olly got into the hole they had dug, and brought out the crystal, wrapped carefully in Olly’s bandana.

“Strange,” Kit murmured and turned the cups around to look at them from all kinds of angles. “Should have made a laser beam, or something generating heat, and it didn’t. Maybe an electron beam, but I don’t see –”

“Take them home and show them to the snooty chick,” Miller rumbled. “I’m sure she’ll have some kind of theory, and you can spend weeks and weeks in that lab of yours, figuring it out.”

“Yeah,” Hawker muttered. “Don’t tell her she was right, though.”

“What?” I asked.

“Brains won over brawn. This time,” he grinned, but it faded as he looked at me. “Don’t know what the hell you were thinking, though. Thought I’d have a stroke when I saw you walk into the clearing.”

“You and me both,” Mac muttered sourly. “Ran like the devil, when I should have stayed where I was and taken my shot instead,” he added, clearly appalled at his own behavior.

“Whatever,” I said. “What do we do with the crystal?” I asked, moving the focus away from me. “Do we bury it?”

“Maybe we don’t?” Kit said slowly. “At least not yet? We should know more about them, shouldn’t we? I think we should bring it back with us and examine it. Jinx would love to get her hands on it…”

He trailed off when Miller started laughing, which apparently hurt because he stopped abruptly, although there was still a grin on his face when he addressed his nephew.

“She wants her hands on the crystal, and you want your hands on her. Win-win, huh?” he asked mockingly.

Kit blushed, and I raised my brows, but when the others just chuckled and started to gather our things I decided to leave it. For now.

“What do we do about Paolo?” I asked

“Leave him. Tomorrow you’re going to show your father around the area where you grew up, and we’ll find him. Call it in,” Hawker said.

I stared at him because he’d put his hands in the air and twitched his fingers when he said the word find.

“Did you just do air-quotes on me?” I asked.

Hawker straightened, and Miller started laughing again, but he stopped abruptly also this time.

“Ouch, Wilder, don’t make me laugh,” he groaned.

Then we carefully put the round milky-white stone in my backpack together with the cups. I drove as carefully as I could, knowing that I had a huge part of our history on my back, but we moved slowly anyway, because both Hawker and Miller were clearly impacted by their injuries, even though they both tried to hide it.

Sloane and Mickey waited on the porch when we got back, and after we’d cleaned up and Mac had put a few stitches in my dad, we all had dinner.

Chapter Twenty-four

Aftermath

We all slept late the next day, and if there was a little bounce in my step as I walked into the kitchen to have a late breakfast, no one mentioned it.

In the afternoon, I took my dad around the property, and lo and behold – we found my stepfather, dead from what seemed to be a heart attack. Hawker called it in, the police came, and after a brief investigation, they told us to go home. It took only a few hours and then we got word that they wouldn’t open up a bigger investigation.

There had been no signs of struggle, or the men Paolo had brought with him, so they decided that Paolo’s death was likely a heart attack, although an autopsy would have to confirm that.

“What happened to the other men, Dad?” I asked. “Did you kill them?”

“What?” he chuckled.

“Paolo brought men with him, and they are gone…” I said uncertainly.

I hadn’t actually seen the other men but my bird had told me and I did not like the thought that my father and his friends had been coldblooded enough to just walk in and shoot a few men, and then dispose of their bodies.

“We haven’t killed anyone in the past few years, Wilder,” he muttered, still smiling at me.

“But –”

“How the hell did you get that impression?”

“I don’t know,” I snapped impatiently. “Maybe because you explained to me that you did things that were against the law and Falk told me he was a goddamn sniper?”

“You saw his shot yesterday?” he asked calmly.

“Yes.”

“Why the hell would the boy kill anyone when he can hit whatever he wants from a couple of thousand yards away?”

“Oh.”

“Only a bad shooter kills, Wilder. If you know what you’re doing, plan things well and keep a cool head, then there’s no need to kill,” he clarified what had been obvious already before. Then he grinned crookedly and continued, “We aim for their kneecaps, arms, shoulders… Kit usually tries for the hands, but he’s not a fantastic gunman, so Mac ends up saving his ass more often than not.”

I felt silly and naïve, but since I didn’t do stupid very well, I muttered sourly, “I guess I’m the only one who has killed anyone then.”

“I didn’t exactly say that,” he said, suddenly serious. “We’ve all had to do things we didn’t like. When it comes to the other guy or yourself, then the choice is easy even though the act never is.”

He looked at me for a long time, and then he caressed my cheek.

“Will it hurt you, honey? How Fratinelli died?”

“No,” I replied immediately. “Falk and I talked it through last night. I didn’t want Paolo to end up dead, but he did, and it was mostly his own doing. I don’t really feel like I actually killed him…” I put my hand on top the rough, strong hand cupping my cheek, and leaned into it. “I’ll be fine, Dad, don’t worry.”

“Never thought I’d say this, Wilder,” he murmured. “But damn if I’m not happy you hooked up with Mac.”

I grinned widely, happy about his words but also amused by the disgruntled look on his face.

“So am I, Dad,” I said.

Later, I told Mac what Hawker said, thinking that he’d find it as amusing as I had. He surprised me when he turned away abruptly.

“Jesus,” he whispered.

“Falk?” I asked and walked around him until we were facing each other again.

“Haven’t had anyone,” he started, took a deep breath and started again. “I was five. We were driving down the mountain, on our way home when the breaks stopped working, and the car went off the road. Da was driving, and I don’t know how he managed, but he avoided the ravine on one side and got us over on the other side. It didn’t help, though. We went straight into the mountain, and they died immediately.”

I wrapped my arms around his waist and leaned my head on his chest. He was warm and strong, and I could hear his heartbeat under my ear, but he was trembling a little.

“You don’t have to talk about it, baby,” I whispered.

“You should know,” he murmured into my hair, and continued, “I spoke to your grandfather because he was sheriff back then, but I refused to talk about it again, so no one really knows. I didn’t want to talk about them because it hurt too much. And I didn’t allow anyone to use my name.”

He was silent for a long time, and I held him.

“It was the last thing I heard my mother say. When the car was going into the mountain. It felt like time stopped and I heard only her voice, crying my name out. Just once, but it was drawn out, and it felt like a lifetime. Then there was silence.”

“Baby,” I sobbed, and held on tighter, but he went on as if he hadn’t heard.

“So, I got out of the car and started walking. Bird told me they were gone, said I had to go to Gilmore Johns and he would help. I was five, and I had no clue what to do, so I did what my bird told me and she was right. Your grandmother held me. Gilmore got them off the mountain, and I got help, but from that day I was Mac. Until you.”

I leaned back to look at him, and his face softened then.

“Love you, baby. When I lost them, I lost everything, but when I found you, I got everything back again. Worried me a bit that your Da was so set against me. What if he chipped away on you until you saw me as he does?”

“What?” I exclaimed.

What the hell was he talking about?

“I know I look good, okay?” was his strange retort.

“Wh –”

“It’s not uncommon for girls to hit on me. You’ve seen it, baby,” he said, and he was right. I had seen it. “I didn’t say no a lot. Hawker and the others thought I used my voice, but I didn’t. Accepted what was offered, though,” he muttered.

Oh. I thought about what he’d just said, but it wasn’t news, and I knew it was something I’d have to live with. I had already made my choice.

“I trust you, Falk. I get why they are all on you like white on rice, and I can’t blame them because I am too. Promise me one thing, though?”

“What?” he asked warily.

“If there comes a time when you don’t want me anymore… Don’t go behind my back, don’t sneak around and have a sordid little affair. Just tell me, and we’ll deal, okay?”

“Won’t happen.”

“You don’t know, baby. Life happens. Shit happens. So you don’t know, and I’ll trust you with everything I am but I’d like your promise anyway,” I said calmly.

“Yeah, okay. It won’t happen, but of course, I promise, as long as you make the same promise,” he said.

Why on earth would I promise that when I knew without a doubt that he was it for me? There wouldn’t be anyone else.

“You said it yourself, shit happens, so you don’t know either,” he pushed, but then he chuckled. “Besides, you don’t exactly look like dog poop either, Wilder.”

Not the most flowery of compliments but I still smiled. Then I frowned.

“Why did you use your voice on me, Falk? When we met that first time?”

“Got one look at you and I knew. This is it. This one matters. It scared the shit out of me, and then it just kind of popped out in a way it never had before. The whole situation freaked me out, and I was planning to go away for a few weeks when my bird told me you were chased down the mountain by an avalanche. I was at the lifts before Hawker and Hare. They’re better skiers, though. Caught up with me in the ravine.”

He looked disgruntled, and I hoped it was because he’d been out-skied by my father.

“I promise, Falk. In the unlikely even I get bored by your pretty face and fantastic abs, I will tell you,” I said.

As I expected, he chuckled and then we moved on to talk about other, simpler, topics.

I thought about what he’d said in the weeks that followed, though, and there was one thing I couldn’t wrap my head around. Why had they left him with his uncle? He’d had an awful time so why hadn’t any of the others taken him in?

I asked Hawker about it, and his face grew hard.

“Stupid, stubborn, boy,” he grumbled. “Didn’t say a word. At first, we all thought he was grieving, and when things got worse, he didn’t tell. Always said things were fine. Always.”

I thought about all the times I’d stood next to my parents, smiling and pretending everything was as it should be. In a weird way, I got why he’d pretended.

“How did you find out?” I asked.

“Knocked on the door one day. The family was away on vacation, and I’d heard he hadn’t wanted to go with them. Wanted to check in on him and found him polishing their bathroom floor with a toothbrush,” Hawker said.

I sighed.

“I should have puked in their food instead,” I muttered.

“Yeah, you should have. I got Mac out of there that day, honey. He refused to live with me, didn’t want to live with Da, so I set him up in that condo of his, and we took turns checking up on him,” he said.

“Okay,” I said softly. “Why were they like that to him, do you know?”

“Because his uncle is an idiot. Always has been,” he replied sourly.

“Dad…” I trailed off, thinking that there had to be more to it than that.

There was.

“Wilder,” he sighed. “It’s a blessing to have the connection to your bird, but it’s a curse too sometimes. Envy. Fear. All kinds of shitty emotions come to the surface. In the past, our whole village knew about the birds, but we stopped sharing our legacy more than a hundred years ago.”

He made a pause and watched me with eyes that were wary.

“It was easier for me, I’m the oldest, and it was so clear from the start that I’d have the eagle. He showed up when they brought me home from the hospital, used to follow Ma around each time she took me outside. So when Hare and Mags came along, they already knew. It wasn’t the same for Mac’s uncle. He’s firstborn, and for the first five years of his life, his parents doted on him. Told him he’d have the bird even though there was no proof of that. Stupid. So fucking stupid. Then Mac’s father was born and at first, all was well. Then a falcon showed up, flew right past the older brother and landed on the blanket next to the baby.”

He pulled a hand through his hair and continued, “All attention shifted to Mac’s father. They were ridiculous about it, and I don’t think his uncle ever got over that. We all know the story, though, so we accept him. Mostly.”

“Does Mac know about this?”

“Sure he does. He’s a good man, Wilder. Strong. Even as a boy he understood why his uncle treated him like he did. Accepted it when he could have rubbed both his voice and the bird in with a vengeance.” He grinned crookedly and added, “He’s perhaps not what I wanted for my only daughter, but as long as he toes the line then I’m good with what you have.”

“Don’t worry, Dad,” I said. “He will.”

“I expect that he’ll do just that, honey. Willy was right to put you in fighter training I guess.”

We grinned at each other, both knowing that I wouldn’t have to use my fighting skill on Mac any time soon.

***

After this, life went back to normal, whatever that was.

I spent some time working with Uncle Andy on the ranch, but he was getting better, and Olly was still there. It was clear that they didn’t need me much, or if I was honest, even wanted me around. Since my interest in the day to day activities ranged from low to none at all, I decided to let them do their thing without my interference.

Instead, I worked with Sloane on organizing Willy’s papers and spent time both with Mac and my father. Hawker had completely turned around on my involvement in the group.

“If you’re going to be a part of it then you’d better be trained, honey,” he muttered. “Can’t have you running straight into situations like you did with the asshat,” he added sourly, but I could tell that his anger was mostly fake.

Hence, training with the members of the group commenced. I loved to fight with Olly and Miller and enjoyed spending time with Mac on the shooting range, but most of all I liked the time I spent with my father discussing how they outlined various operations.

They had all been astonished when I announced that my bird talked to all the other birds, but when the initial surprise had passed, we started working out ways we could use this to our advantage. The group had relied heavily on technical devices to pass around messages in the past, and that had worked, but having my bird and me as an instant communications center would certainly speed up things.

I had wondered what my place in the group would be, and as training moved along it became clear that I would never be the muscle, didn’t have the eyesight to be a sniper and not enough patience for the technical things Kit and Byrd were so good at. I could back either of them up quite well, but I knew that my position in the group would be similar to what my father had. I’d be the strategist, the communicator, and the one holding all the pieces together. And when Hawker was ready to step down, I’d take his place as the leader.

We were in regular contact with the authorities, and the autopsy of my ex-father came back inconclusive. It didn’t prove that he’d had a coronary, but it didn’t prove anything else either so, in the end, his death was determined to be from unknown but natural causes.

Hawker and I went down to Prosper, and a lawyer’s office in a surprisingly bad part of the city, to hear the reading of Paolo’s last will.

As expected, he’d bequeathed everything he owned to his mother, except for a small house deep in the swamp outside Marshes that he wanted his cousin Francesco to have.

Mrs. Fratinelli smirked at me, and I wanted to slap her. She had just started telling me how she would start bringing Willy’s art collection to her house in Marshes when Willy’s lawyer, Mr. Suthermoore, suddenly was ushered into the room.

“My apologies for interrupting, but I was just notified about this meeting, and I found it prudent to share a few details,” he said.

Then he sat down and placed some papers in front of him.

“For his inheritance to include also Mr. Willy Callaghan’s estate, Mr. Paolo Fratinelli signed an agreement that he would share some pertinent details regarding his stepdaughter's background,” he started and pushed one of the papers forward with his index finger.

I nodded and wondered why he brought this up.

“You agreed to this, and signed an agreement,” he said, looking at me as he pushed another paper forward.

I nodded again.

“There was an unfortunate mistake in the text in both these documents, which I take full responsibility for,” he continued, and Hawker straightened next to me.

“This specifies quite clearly that Mrs. Caroline Fratinelli was supposed to share these details with Miss Wilder Fratinelli,” he continued, pointing to the first paper.

“And this states clearly that Miss Wilder Fratinelli agrees to transfer this responsibility to Mr. Paolo Fratinelli,” he said, indicating the other paper.

I was confused, but Hawker started laughing.

“I don’t see the problem –” Paolo’s mother started, but my father interrupted her.

“Wilder Johns,” he said, still chuckling, and I got it then.

My name had never been Fratinelli, but I hadn’t known that when I signed the paper. I’d actually signed it as Wilder Callaghan as well, which probably made them even less legally binding.

A huge commotion broke out, and the old woman was red-faced and loud, but after some discussions, the lawyers agreed that the transfer of Willy’s possessions to Paolo had been incorrect.

“You can sue them,” Hawker rumbled, “or my daughter,” he went on, “but I wouldn’t,” he concluded.

“I most certainly will,” the woman snapped sourly.

“You do that,” Hawker said affably. “I believe that the police would, unfortunately, have to open their investigation about Fratinelli again then. I asked them to close it when he died, but in case there’s a trial then, of course, there need to be further investigations of his affairs…” he trailed off.

They glared at each other and then the woman got to her feet.

“I can’t for the life of me see what a woman like Caroline ever found attractive in a man like you,” she snapped.

Our laughter followed her out of the room.

We thanked the lawyers, and I made arrangements to meet Mr. Suthermoore later to figure out how to deal with what Willy had left me. The companies would have to be managed, but I hoped Mickey would help me figure that out. I decided to discuss with Mary about the art collections. I wanted to set some kind of foundation up and donate them to that, but I didn’t know how that would work.

All of that would have to wait until another day because we left and drove up to Norton where the others were waiting for us.

The snow was melting, and the ground was softer, so we had decided to go back to the cave and bring Vildman down.

Chapter Twenty-five

Vildman

I stood in front of the others in the cave where I'd found shelter from the avalanche. My eyes were burning, and it was a struggle to breathe through the thick lump in my throat.

Behind me were everyone who had a link to one of the birds, and in front of me was the remains of Vildman.

We'd decided that no one else would enter the cave. Vildman was our ancestor, and we felt strongly that this was an honor we owed him. For the same reason, we'd decided to tell no one how I'd found him. There would be no archeologists, no historians, and no autopsy would be performed.

All of us had read the stories his daughter and her two friends had written down, and we thought that we had a good enough idea of what had happened to the man.

It turned out that when I made my asinine comment in the hospital about gigantic lobsters, I hadn’t been entirely wrong.

I’d overheard Francesco mentioning the old ways when I was in Marshes, and Sloane had spent time going through ancient records with references to Vildman, but she had also looked for any kind of document mentioning anything about old ways.

Sloane had found copies from archives originating from the village called Pantano, which later had been renamed to Marshes, and the documents made references to using powdered shells from seafood that by the description sounded a lot like lobsters.

We put everything we knew together and believed that the wound Vildman had gotten must have been dirtied with powdered shells. Remembering how ill Mac had been, I marveled about the resilience of my ancestor. He’d lasted a whole year with powder stuck in his body, and they had planned to open up the wound to rinse it. If he hadn’t been caught in that cave during a storm, he might have made it.

Our world would have been vastly different then, I thought. Prosper wouldn’t exist. Dragoncourt would likely have been the main city in our country, instead of a successful but rather small ski resort. The Dreughan, my ancestors, would have ruled the country, and the Waterfolk would probably have been long gone.

I grieved for the way Vildman had died, but the prosperous times that followed had been good for our country. What Troy had built up from the little settlement around the Heather Houses was truly remarkable, and as I stood there in front of a man long gone, I hoped that he would have approved.

We'd brought a simple wooden casket and Carson had made several trips up and down the mountain with his helicopter to bring both it and the nine of us up there.

Snow was standing between my father and grandfather, pale and with eyes so haunted it hurt just to look into them. She'd arrived with Carson in the helicopter and would go back with him when he left. Bo had called me when they’d left Threy, and said that I needed to look out for her because for reasons that he apparently knew and I had no clue about, it would be hard for her to go back to Norton. Bo also told me that she’d been dropped off by someone he’d called “mister hunkalicious.” I assumed that it had been Dante, and I wondered why he hadn’t gone with Snow to Norton. They were living together, so I had expected him to come.

As I stood there, it hit me again how striking the dead man was, even after so many years in the cave. I stepped forward and crouched. Then I slowly wiped out the signs he’d made in the dirt.

“Thank you,” I whispered, stretched out my hand and touched his cheek softly. “We found your message. Our world is safe again.”

Then I stepped back and nodded to the others.

In complete silence, we wrapped Vildman up in white sheets and placed him carefully in the coffin. Hawker and Miller lowered the lid and then my father nailed it shut.

We didn’t speak until we were at the burial ground just outside the churchyard. Hare and a few other men from the village had removed the stone and dug a deep grave. Our priest knew what we were doing, and Hawker had told me that he’d offered to perform a burial. We had rejected this, which he’d immediately accepted, and even agreed that it wouldn’t be right to utter words from our modern faith over the man who had lived out his life in another time.

So, we simply lowered the coffin, filled the grave and put the stone back.

Then we stood in a semi-circle as Hawker knelt and put this hand to the stone.

“We thank you, Vildman. Rest in peace now,” he said.

Then he got up, turned and our eyes met. I remembered how I’d stood alone at a funeral not so long ago, frozen and frightened down to my very core. I hadn’t cried then, but I did as I stood in front of the grave of an ancestor I hadn’t even known existed. The unexpected sorrow I felt for a man who died so long ago suddenly mingled with longing for Willy, so I cried for Vildman, but also for my grandfather. It felt like I finally laid him to rest, and it hurt, but I didn’t feel so alone with my grief this time. My father was there to dry my cheeks, and I had family and friends all around me. Mickey and his parents were there, and my girlfriends too. Mac held me in his arms and only let go of me to kneel and murmur a few words of respect to our common forefather. Everyone else kneeled, one by one, to pay their respect until I was the only one left.

I took a deep breath and then I went down on my knees, grasping the dragon pendant. Then I put my hand on the stone.

“Rest well, Vildman, leader of the fire dragons. I hope I made you proud,” I murmured.

Suddenly the world shifted in front of my eyes. It felt like when I looked through the eyes of my bird, but I knew that I didn’t.

He was standing there, Vildman, and he looked straight at me with a small smile playing at the tips of his mouth. I’d thought he was stunning when I found his body in the cave, but seeing him as he had been, I realized that I’d had no idea. He was tall and strong and even through the mists of death, his charisma hit me like a flash. I smiled at him, and I thought he would say something, but then others were there.

Vilda came running. Drake held her hand, clearly trying to slow her down, but he was laughing, and when he turned toward me, I recognized Snow’s blue eyes. The others followed at a slower pace. Sannah and Keeghan. Troy and Rinna. Brock, Lycka, Gus. They were young, and they were happy.

Vildman turned away from me and stretched out a hand to touch his daughter’s cheek, and they smiled. Then he wrapped her up in his arms, and I saw how his eyes closed briefly. She leaned her cheek on his chest and suddenly our gazes met. Her eyes were a pulsating, luminous green, brighter than Falk’s deep forest green but not as yellowy as mine. Then she grinned cheekily.

“When your daughter is born, name her after me,” she said softly.

“I promise,” I whispered.

Then they faded away.

“Wilder?” I heard Mac murmur and felt his arms holding me up.

I leaned into him and smiled.

“We’re going to have a child, and she asked that we gave our daughter her name. Our daughter will be Vilda,” I said.

“Okay,” he said calmly.

I got to my feet, and as we slowly walked down toward the church, I explained what I’d seen. The others were silent as I talked, and I knew that they were in awe but also felt the same happiness for Vildman and his daughter as I did. They were together again, at last.

“Right,” Hawker said when I stopped talking. “This weekend, then,” he added.

I blinked.

“What will happen this weekend, dad?”

His face softened like it always did when I called him dad. I smiled back at him and hoped that it always would.

“You’re getting married,” he said.

I blinked again.

“What?” I asked.

“It’ll have to be next weekend, Hawker. Wilder will want a dress,” Mac said.

“What,” I repeated, breathily this time.

“Right,” Hawker muttered.

“We’re getting married?” I asked Mac. “Did I sleep through your proposal?” I added, wondering what they were thinking, agreeing on this just like that.

“You’re pregnant, so yeah, you’re getting married,” my father replied.

I turned to him. Then I turned to Mac. Then I turned to my dad again, opening and closing my mouth a few times.

“You’re pregnant too?” Sloane interrupted, and I turned to her, laughing.

“No, I’m not pregnant. She was talking about the child I will have eventually. Not a child I’m already expecting,” I said through my laughter.

“Really?” Mac asked and to my surprise, he sounded disappointed.

“Yes, really. Why would you think that?” I asked.

Having been conceived by mistake, I had no intentions to do the same thing to any kids I ever had, so we’d taken precautions.

“Could have been,” he muttered, “We’ve certainly tried often eno –”

He cut himself off, and his eyes flew to my father, but Hawker had stopped and was watching Sloane. His jaw had gone slack, and he looked like someone had clubbed him in the head.

“Too?” he said hoarsely.

Holy cow. It dawned on me that she'd asked if I was pregnant too.

“Oopsie,” Sloane said with a cheeky grin.

She was in no way uncomfortable with how the conversation had moved, and slowly I saw a smile form on my dad’s face. He was almost forty years old, but at that moment he looked years younger, and the smile on his face was a little embarrassed but mostly full of wonder and happiness. Then I couldn’t stop myself because it was kind of funny how history repeated itself.

“Dad?” I called out. “What is it with you and not using protection?”

Miller barked out laughter, and the rest of us joined in as we continued down the hill toward our small town in the mountains.

Epilogue

I’m on my back, and the sun warms my face, but my eyes are closed. I’m looking through the eyes of my bird, and with her, I’m soaring. Beside her, a falcon is flying, and they twist and turn, moving across the clear sky in harmony.

Then I hear a child giggling, and I let go of my bird to open my eyes. My father is walking toward me with a small boy in his arms. Wildman Johns, my brother.

I smile softly and turn to the side, knowing that I will look into the green eyes of my love.

We are together, and we had nothing, but now we have everything, and when our eyes meet, we start laughing.

Continue reading…

Birds of a Feather – Book Two: Sweet Water
Released 2017

“I am Jiminella Nixée Sweetwater, but everyone calls me Jinx. I have two friends, a small condo and no life. I'm a genius. A scholar and inventor, hardworking and loyal to my few close friends, and I have to get away. I lost myself a long time ago and to continue being who I am hurts too much so I have to escape. I have to find me.”

Being a genius might seem like a lucky thing, but it isn’t. At least, it isn’t to Jiminella “Jinx” Sweetwater.

Everything around her is just wrong, and after a fight with her best friend Wilder, it just gets worse. Someone breaks into her apartment and then, out of the blue, her parents show up in all their hippie-like glory.

Jinx has had it and escapes to a small village by the sea called Marshes where she will continue her research on the crystal Wilder found in the mountains. In Marshes she’d be left alone, she thought, but things don’t always end up the way you want them to – even if you’re smarter than everyone else.

Suddenly Jinx finds herself involved in village life, living with the cranky old biddy, Mrs. Fratinelli and trying her best to juggle all the things that seem to end up on her plate.

And then there’s calm, cool and gorgeous Dante. Snow’s boyfriend, who seems to see right through the shields she’s put up around herself, straight into her mind…

Table of Contents

Copyright

My thanks

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-five

Epilogue

Continue reading - Sweet Water