Chapter Twelve
Dean
Talking to Jillian had been amazing. After all the time together where our communications were so thin, we had this way to “talk.” We’d spent hours lying side by side on the wintery ground, protected from the cold by our fur. She told me something of her history, and I did the same. After a bit, I almost forgot we weren’t speaking aloud because it came so naturally. The only time she seemed to balk was when I asked one question in particular.
Can all shifters speak to one another this way?It must make her life much easier with her lack of vocal speech and limited writing skills. Skills I planned to double my efforts to help her with.
No. Not everyone.
When no more followed, I let the subject drop because there were so many more things I wanted to learn, but I would bring it up again. In fact, I might ask others about it if I ever got a work assignment. We’d continued to talk until Jillian suggested we go home and make dinner. She tossed her beautiful muzzle toward my kill and then stood and trotted back toward the cabin. The hovel I swore I’d replace with a nice house at the very first opportunity. I wasn’t sure if Jillian had feelings for me the way I did for her. I’d never met anyone like her, the puppy love experiences so pale in comparison. I understood now that there were many people we might find attractive or interesting, but if I’d ended up with one of them, I’d have missed out on the fire kindling in my heart for this extraordinary woman.
Dinner was late that night because the rabbit had to cook for quite a while, but as we sat opposite one another at the table, and I spooned the hearty, rich broth, flavored with herbs, the bits of meat and vegetables incredibly delicious, my pride threatened to burst right from my chest. I’d provided food for our table.
That’s right. Me. Dean, the college student who had never so much as cooked a meal, had hunted meat and brought it to feed my —-I mean, this woman.
Mate.My mind resounded with the word, as if someone else said it inside me. A lot like the conversations we’d had in the forest but a little different. I guess my thoughts were also changing, becoming more vivid and louder. Especially on this topic—once I was in love with love.
Now, I had a focus.
But when we finished our meal, and not a trace remained, my pride also evaporated with it. If I wanted to prove to Jillian that I was the wolf for her, I’d need to do better. Although she hadn’t said so in so many words—thoughts?—I recognized that she’d helped me to shift in some way. I gladly accepted her assistance but also understood until I managed to make those changes independently, I would not be worthy of her. If I ever was. Jillian lived in this awful place yet managed to make it a home.
I’d called it a hovel, and it was, but I could tell she’d improved it from something much worse. The gaps between the old logs were filled with kind of an adobe sort of material. Mud and straw and a smattering of herbs as well that, although they were dry, still added a fragrance to the air within. The floor was of boards, golden enough to show they had recently been sanded and oiled. The windows, though cracked, gleamed with cleanliness. Her bed was not much more than the pallet I slept on but still looked inviting.
I had to admit that element might be as much because of its occupant as the worn but colorful quilt laid over it. What would it be like to sleep with her curled in my arms?
My quiet lady leaned over the table toward me, seeking my attention. I offered her a smile and an apologetic shrug. She reached for my bowl, and I stood and helped her clear the table and clean up. I took the bucket to the stream to fill for washing the dishes and drinking as well. Once everything was put neatly away, we retired to our beds, and I lay on my side, watching her in the glow of the low fire, until exhaustion from our adventures drove me into a deep and dreamless sleep.
I woke deep in the night, and my eyes immediately sought her again. The fire had died back to coals, but it wasn’t so dark I didn’t notice that her bed was empty, the quilt smooth and her shoes, always beside the mattress, gone. Her hoodie was also missing from the nail by the front door. I must have been very deeply asleep that I didn’t hear her moving around, but she probably was answering nature’s call and would be right back.
Plumbing...when I built the new home, it would have so much plumbing. As many bathrooms as I could fit and a kitchen with not one but two sinks. Maybe a pool. I’d taken up fetching the water for our needs, and it wasn’t far at all, but indoor facilities I’d once taken for granted now seemed like nearly unattainable luxuries. I had noticed in my trips to the pack compound that the others seemed to have not only water but satellite dishes. Again, I wondered why Jillian lived way out here alone.
I would ask that the next time we were wolves together, which I wanted to be soon. Would she have to help me again? I hoped not. But I’d accept her assistance if necessary. “Talking” to her was worth any blow to my male pride.
I’d never have thought of myself as macho or prideful. Did falling in love affect all guys this way? Make them ready to throw themselves in front of an oncoming freight train or meteor plummeting from the sky to protect their ladies?
As I’d lain here thinking, time had passed. Since Jillian did not have a clock, I couldn’t be specific, but in my time here, I’d begun to have a better sense of “when” in the day it was. And how many minutes or hours went by while I waited for Jillian to return from her daily work. But she’d been away at least an hour, far too long to be using the outhouse.
Worried, I tossed back my covers and dressed quickly. Those woods were full of all kinds of dangers. Not that I’d seen any in particular, but we weren’t the only wolves, I felt sure, and the regular kind might not care that she was somewhat a kindred spirit. And I’d heard bands of coyotes howling. Snakes, bobcats, possibly even mountain lions. Anything might await a woman alone among the trees.
A man alone, too, but I couldn’t think about that or I’d lose my nerve. Jillian was out there somewhere alone. And she hadn’t told me she was going for some reason. My mind swam with possibilities. Had someone from the pack summoned her? And for what purpose late in the night?
I donned my shoes and the sweatshirt I’d acquired and set out to find her. I followed the path we’d run earlier and then turned onto another and another, pausing often to listen, completely lost within a short time but not caring. I needed to find her. How far away had she gone? By chance, I crossed the trail we took when we went to the compound. I used the term loosely, since there were not walls or anything keeping the others all together, but so far as I could tell, every other pack member lived close to one another, in much nicer homes than ours.
The eastern sky was lightening when I saw her bent over studying something on the ground. “Jillian!”
She jumped and fell forward on her knees. Rushing forward, I brushed her off and studied her. The faint light of dawn showed an expression I couldn’t read.
“Are you all right?”
She nodded.
“What are you doing out here all by yourself all night? I’ve been worried sick. Anything could have happened to you. Wild animals might have eaten you, a snake could have bitten you, a stranger kidnapped you...what were you thinking?” I took her arm in one hand and her basket of plant materials in the other and towed her toward home. “It’s cold out here, too. You must be chilled through. And then you’ll have to go work for the pack in a couple of hours with no rest…”
My lecture went on for some time, and, to her credit, Jillian never pointed out that unlike me, at the approach of danger, she could shift to a wolf in seconds, the only harm done to her clothing. But still, there were many shifters around, apparently, and no reason to think her wolf was the strongest and fastest in the forest.
I wanted to hunt for us, but more than that, I wanted to protect her. More than anything.