Call of the Wolf (4 page)

"Good thinking,” Beth said approvingly. “Don't let them corner you into choosing now. You can do that at the dance."

The comment, thankfully, earned the older woman several unfriendly glances—to which she seemed completely oblivious—but it effectively drew the men's attention away from her. She considered reaffirming her decision not to go to the dance at all, but she didn't particularly want to draw the men's attention back to her. “The food was wonderful!” she said instead. “I can't thank you enough for inviting me. Can I help you with clean up?"

Beth waved a hand at her. “Don't be silly. You're a guest. Besides, you're going to have your hands full setting your place to rights. I'd be happy to give you a hand if you like ... maybe tomorrow after church?"

Abby smiled thinly. “Thanks for the offer, but I'm sure I can manage.” She got up despite Beth's dismissal and helped her collect the dishes from the table, following the older woman into the kitchen with a profound sense of relief at having escaped the dining room.

Beth directed her to a chair to sit and chat while she finished up, flatly refusing to allow Abby to do more than help her collect the dishes and wipe down the dining table.

"You're not serious about skipping the dance?"

"Oh, I don't really think I'll be up to it,” Abby replied uncomfortably. “My first week here and all...."

Beth sent her a speculative look that made Abby squirm.

"And I don't know anybody, you know?"

"You're not going to get to know folks around here if you don't get out and mingle while you have the chance,” Beth retorted.

The problem was she didn't
want
to get to know anyone, but she certainly couldn't say that without also explaining why ... or leaving that tantalizing tidbit out there for speculation, which could be worse. There was no telling what inventive minds might make of it.

Besides, neither Cameron Fontaine, Jerico Collins, nor Adrian Paulson were locals. They were only in town for the festival. What would be the point of going out with them when it couldn't go anywhere? It wasn't likely they would consider moving to Ajax and she certainly couldn't go ... anywhere. And they were from big cities, which, according to the Feds, was the worst idea of a place to go.

She might as well paint a bulls eye on her forehead.

As for Seth ... she would've been lying if she said she had no interest at all. She wasn't dead—yet. She thought it would be more accurate to say she had no interest in getting
more
interested. Beyond the fact that he was a cop and she'd had her fill of being around cops for a lifetime, next to a reporter, she couldn't think of anybody more likely, or more determined, to ferret out her story. In time, maybe, she'd grow accustomed enough to her new identity that she wouldn't be worried about stumbling at the wrong time, saying something she shouldn't, but she didn't feel nearly secure enough yet to test it.

"You're right,” she answered Beth finally, smiling with an effort. “And maybe I will go, but it's not something I'm putting a high priority on at the moment. And I certainly don't feel like being ... cornered. Is it just me, or did it seem to you that they were coming on a little strong?"

Beth grunted, but it was hard to say whether she wrestled with the comment or the effort of scrubbing the iron skillet. “Alphas...” She broke off and slid a glance at Abby over her shoulder.

Abby couldn't prevent a faint shiver. Right up until she'd gotten to know Mikhail, she'd thought she was as drawn to Alpha males as any other female. Nodding in agreement, she rose. “I should get back ... if you're sure you don't want me to help out a little?"

"I can handle it ... do it three times a day."

"That's just depressing!” Abby said sympathetically. “You should consider getting a dishwasher."

"Got one comes week days, but I give her the weekends off."

Abby chuckled. “I meant a machine. You only have to pay for it once and it doesn't complain or ask for a raise."

Beth turned to stare at her for a long moment and then looked around her kitchen. “I don't know where I'd put it,” she said finally.

"I think I'd think of a place,” Abby replied with a grin. “Thanks again. I haven't had home cooking, except for mine, in ... a while."

Seth was leaning against the porch post nearest the steps when she let herself out. She had the sense that he was lying in wait for her. He turned and surveyed her as she crossed the porch.

"It was nice meeting you,” Abby said politely. “And you were right. She's a great cook."

Seth smiled faintly. “She's the best cook in these parts. That's why I finally just took a room here. I figured if I was going to be eating here most every night anyway, it'd just be more convenient."

"I can see your point, although I don't think it would be safe for me to eat here very often. I might hurt myself,” she said wryly.

He chuckled. “I noticed you managed to turn down desert."

"Only because I wasn't able to indulge. Next time, maybe I'll ask for desert first."

He shook his head, grinning. “House rules. Nobody gets desert until they've eaten their veggies."

"Ah! She
did
strike me as a tyrant. Well ... goodnight."

He started down the steps when she did. “I'll walk you to your door."

Abby slid a glance at him. “You can watch me from here if you think I'm in any danger."

He shrugged. “But you won't
be
in any danger if I'm standing on this porch."

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Chapter Three

Don't
flirt with the sheriff! He's a C—O—P, Kylee Marie Bennett!

And there's proof positive the man's bad for you, Abigail—dumbass—Wintrope! One suggestive line and she'd completely forgotten her ‘name'!

"No comment?"

"I'm thinking."

He chuckled. “At least I'm making progress."

Abby slid a doubtful glance at him, but she couldn't help smiling. “How do you figure that?"

"You didn't run."

She chuckled. “It doesn't take much to encourage you,” she retorted wryly.

"Nope."

She shook her head at him, but, in spite of all she could do, she couldn't summon the dislike she wanted to hold on to. His sublime self-confidence should've annoyed her. Instead, it intrigued her as much as he did, because she couldn't help but wonder what a man like Seth Banner was doing in a town like Ajax. It was like mounting a diamond in a wooden tiara.

For that matter, she couldn't figure out why he didn't have a woman following him around with a club in her hand to beat other women off him.

There must be some flaw she hadn't discovered yet.

She wasn't
going
to discover it either, she told herself irritably as she climbed the steps of her own porch ... still completely unscathed despite his threat/promise. She was going to keep her wits about her and steer clear of dangerous men—which included any male of the species, in particular the devastatingly attractive ones.

He settled one large hand on her waist as she turned to bid him goodnight at her door and one above her head on the front wall of the house, crowding her until she bumped into the wall behind her. Her heart began to thump madly in her chest as he leaned down until they were almost nose to nose. A wave of dizziness went through her. The warmth of his body, the
power
he seemed to exude, made her feel as if she'd stepped into a static zone. Her skin prickled all over.

"Abby,” he murmured, his lips so near hers she could almost feel them, could feel her own lips tingle with anticipation.

"Mmm?” she asked a little breathlessly.

"Be sure to lock your door. There are a lot of strangers in town."

Abby blinked at him when he straightened, breaking the spell he'd woven around her in two seconds flat.

"'Night,” he called as he jogged down the steps.

Irritation replaced her shocked surprise as she watched him saunter away. It took a strenuous effort to tamp it, but she managed to call after him gaily, “Goodnight, Sheriff. Thanks for walking me to the door!"

It took her three tries to find the right key and unlock the door, but she managed to get it open and close it behind her without slamming it before he reached the gate and had the chance to look back. She ignored the temptation to see if he would, locking the door behind her and stalking down the hallway to the bathroom.

"Bastard!” she muttered under her breath as she slammed the bathroom door. Snatching her hideous dress off, she threw it in the floor and kicked it. “Arrogant asshole!"

Twisting the hot water handle wide open, she grabbed one of the boxes stacked beside the pedestal sink and began digging through it for her bath products.

She'd discovered his fatal flaw without even having to look hard, she thought angrily, wondering if that little ploy on the porch had been about payback for her earlier behavior toward him or if he just hadn't been able to resist discovering how strong her resistance to his charms was.

Nil!

She was so distracted she'd already stepped into the shower and lined up soap, shampoo, and cream rinse on the shelf at the rear of the shower before she remembered she'd only turned on the hot water. Shoving her hand cautiously under the spray to test it, she discovered it not only wasn't hot, it was freezing cold. Sucking in a sharp breath as the water pelted her, she leapt out of the shower again, nearly busting her ass as her wet feet hit the slick linoleum floor covering.

Shivering, she stared at the shower in disbelief for several moments and finally reached in to shut the water off. Twisting the other knob, she waited, testing the water every few minutes.

No hot water. She couldn't
believe
there was no hot water!

Grabbing the thongs she'd discarded, she shimmied into them again, snatched the towel she'd unearthed from the bar and stalked out of the bathroom. There was no sign of a hot water heater in the kitchen. Stymied, she stood in the middle of the room, trying to think if she'd noticed a closet where the damned thing might have been stashed.

She'd searched the entire house before she remembered she'd seen the damned water heater on the back porch. Tucking the towel around herself, she checked the switches on the wall by the back porch until she found the one that lit the porch and stalked outside to examine the thing.

It wasn't warm to the touch—which was no great surprise. After examining it, she stomped back into the kitchen and found the electrical panel. All of the switches were in the ‘on’ position and, in any case, they were all clearly marked and not one said ‘water heater'. What the hell? It had to have something running to it, right?

Stalking back to the water heater she examined it more closely and discovered instructions on the front for lighting the pilot light.

Gas!

How hard could it be?

Surely people lit them all the time without blowing themselves up?

Getting down on her hands and knees, she peered into the dark hole where the pilot light was supposed to be, but the porch light shed little illumination on the project. She got up again, thinking of her flashlight, but it could take a month to discover what box it was in, she realized in disgust. Shaking it off, she looked around for the matches she'd found earlier. She would need a match to light it, anyway.

When she'd finally found them on the kitchen counter, she headed back to the water heater, got down on her knees and struck a match, leaning down to peer in the hole again. She still wasn't exactly sure she'd identified the pilot light, but she figured gas would come out of it. If she got the match in the right spot, it was bound to light. Shaking that match out, she pulled out another, struck in and shoved it in the hole.

"Problems,
chère
?"

Abby let out a shriek of pure terror at the abrupt intrusion of a deep male voice and scrambled to her feet, tearing her towel off and throwing matches in every direction in the process. Cameron, she discovered, was standing on the top steps, peering at her through the screen door. She screamed again before recognition dawned.

A look of alarm flickered across his features, although he seemed far too mesmerized by her to really register the shriek she'd let out. “You scared the pure
fuck
out of me!” she snarled furiously, grabbing up the now empty match box and hurling it at the screen door.

It was the sound of running feet that finally penetrated her shock and anger enough for her to recall she'd left her towel on the floor when she leapt up. Snatching it from the floor, she wrestled frantically with the thing, trying to get it around her. Discovering it was hopelessly twisted, she clutched it to her breasts, anyway, just as Seth, Adrian, and Jerico arrived on her doorstep.

"What happened?” Seth demanded.

Abby stared at the men lined up on her back porch steps. Discovering they were all looking her over with patent interest, she tugged at her towel, trying ineffectually to cover herself, though she knew just from the breeze she could feel that she didn't have much covered besides her breasts and not even them very well. “Nothing,” she said stiffly, turning and stalking toward the door with as much dignity as she could muster.

She wasn't about to stand on the back porch more than half naked and try to explain.

"You screamed—twice!” Seth said tightly.

"Because he ... startled me!” Abby snapped once she'd managed to get inside and hide behind the door. “I was
trying
to light my water heater!"

"What the hell were you doing over here, Fontaine?"

Cameron narrowed his eyes at him. “I heard her strike a match. I came to offer to help out,” he ground out.

"Is that true?” Seth asked her sharply.

Abby closed her eyes, counted to ten. “Yes! He asked if I had a problem! Thank you for coming to check—everybody! But I'm fine. Goodnight!” Slamming the door closed, she locked it and headed into her bedroom. She halted with a jolt when she caught her reflection in the mirror over her dresser.

Well, no fucking wonder they were all staring at her!
Everything
was hanging out! She hadn't managed to do anything but ball the towel up
under
her breasts! A fat lot of good it had done to grab the damned towel!

Slinging the towel off angrily, she went to the box that contained her clothes and dug around in it until she found one of the oversized t-shirts she liked to sleep in. There would be no shower tonight!

Heaving an irritated breath when she'd covered herself, she headed back into the kitchen to make herself a hot drink to chase away the chill from the cold shower she'd
almost
gotten and the thorough airing she
had
gotten. She heard the voices of the men on the back porch as she reached the kitchen. After a brief debate, she moved to the door and pushed aside the curtain that covered the window in the top half of the door.

Adrian was down on his knees, his ass in the air while he tried to shove a match in the hole to light her water heater. Jerico was crouched beside him, holding the button to release the gas and Seth and Cameron were apparently supervising. Both of them with their arms folded, leaning back against the posts on either side of the screen door.

Cameron had gotten a hell a view, she realized irritably, studying Adrian's butt and realizing he was in the same position she'd been in when Cameron had arrived.

When she glanced at Seth and Cameron again, she discovered they were watching her rather than the two men trying to light her water heater. Discomfort wafted through her, but the truth was that she'd been too distressed when the ‘incident’ had occurred to feel any of the embarrassment she no doubt would have otherwise, and it wasn't actually clear enough in her mind to give rise to much embarrassment now.

At least Seth hadn't arrested Cameron, not that she wasn't still irritated that he'd scared her, but she didn't think he'd done it deliberately or that he'd intended her any harm. She hadn't realized how jumpy she was, but she supposed, as hard as it was to deal with and as potentially embarrassing, it was better than not being wary at all.

It disturbed her that both Cameron and Seth had walked right up on her and she hadn't heard a thing, hadn't had any inkling they were there until they'd spoken. Of course, both times she'd been deeply preoccupied but it still seemed to her that she should've heard them.

Maybe she had, but she hadn't been alerted because she didn't feel threatened here.

She discarded that. If she felt perfectly safe, she wouldn't have reacted as violently as she had when she'd discovered their presence.

She had to accept that she'd been too preoccupied to hear them and use the two uncomfortable incidents as a reminder of just how vulnerable she was when she wasn't paying attention to her surroundings. The Feds believed they'd covered her tracks thoroughly. They believed she was as safe here in Ajax as she could possibly be, but even they had warned her that she should be vigilant at all times. Mikhail wasn't going to forgive or forget. She almost certainly had a price on her head and hit men combing the country for her to collect on it.

A shiver skated through her. For just a moment, she saw her life lying before her and realized that was a fact that was never going to change. She might get used to her new identity and her surroundings. She might even reach a point where she was relatively content with the life she had, but she was never going to be able to count on it or count on being safe. Anyone who entered her life could be her killer.

Thrusting those thoughts away when she saw the men had gotten her water heater lit, she unlocked the door and opened it to thank them. “I was just about to fix myself something hot to warm me. Could I offer y'all something?"

The four of them glanced at each other and nodded, heading toward the door.

She stepped back. “Just have a seat. I'll be right back,” she added, dashing from the kitchen to grab a pair of jeans.

She could hear the kitchen cabinet doors opening and closing so she wasn't surprised when she got back to discover that there was a pot of water already simmering on the stove and five cups lined up on the counter. Adrian was standing at her sink, washing his hands. Jerico and Cameron had dragged chairs out from the kitchen table and settled in them and Seth was leaning against the counter near the stove, his arms folded.

"Hot chocolate or coffee?” he asked when she came in.

"Hot chocolate,” she responded, hiding her surprise to discover she had any, deciding she was jittery enough without adding caffeine to the equation. Instead of taking a seat at the table, she moved to the cabinets and opened them one by one, studying the contents, in search of something she could offer her guests to go with their drink. When the cabinet search turned up nothing, she moved to the refrigerator. She found a coffeecake in the freezer and took it out to read the heating instructions.