Silver-White (The Great North Woods Pack #1) (19 page)

“To kill me is about the rivalry, not a
personal attack?”

“It’s both,” Joe said, his face
hardening with a hint of anger. “Most predators will kill the young of their
rivals, if the opportunity arises; an ugly result of the difficulties of
survival.”

“Lovely,” Evie murmured.

“In fairness it’s not just cats that
kill in that manner. And there have been some cats over the years that have
chosen simply to avoid the wolves and live in peace; some have abandoned the
cat altogether. Since both our kinds require secrecy from the humans, even the
worst of the cats would not risk exposure just to hurt us; not for a million square
miles. There is no love lost between us, but there is the common goal of
secrecy, especially in the last century, with the population explosion and the
availability of such powerful rifles. I expected their curiosity and their move
later in the night. What surprised me was the sudden brashness of a daylight
breach.”

“It almost seems silly that it’s all for
land,” Evie remarked. “If they’re half human, they must have some human brains.”

“Nothing about this is silly,” her
grandfather said quietly. “Land is life.”

“Can’t they find other land?”

“It’s not that simple. And even if it
was, would
you
simply walk away from
this land?”

“No,” Evie said after a moment’s
thought. “Not willingly.”

Her grandfather nodded solemnly. “Some
cats do give themselves up for wanderers and nomads. Others refuse to leave the
familiar lands of their ancestors; it’s too bitter a pill. Snows have
controlled The North Woods unchecked for generations. To the south, in the
mountains and southern foothills, the cats have had good lands as well, but
every year the population grows, pushing north with houses, tourists, and
hunters. As their lands have decreased, their tempers have understandably flared.
My guess is that when they caught wind of a young Snow of the old family
coloring—” He stopped short. “Do you know about the old family name?” he asked
in a more cheerful tone.

“Erica told me.”

“I figured she might. Did she tell you
the old spelling?”

Evie shook her head.

“When the English language was quite new,
our Norse relatives were called Snowe with an ‘E’. The Snowe men.”

“Joe …” urged his wife.

“Yes, that’s beside the point. As I was
saying … The situation is thus: in a young Snow our rivals see a hopeless continuation
of the trend. To the south the humans increase, and to the north the Snows
endure. The vice squeezes them tighter by the year. More than rivalry, the base
instinct of survival drives them to fight, though it is a fight they cannot
win.”

Evie said nothing for a long time. A
part of her felt pity for the cats. As with the wolves, or any wild thing, they
too must have a love for wild places and the freedom of open spaces—such as the
trails she’d run carelessly on just hours before. In her grandfather’s human tone
she detected the same pity that she was feeling.

“Now you know why we live so far away,”
Evie’s mother said, entering the room and the conversation from the foot of the
stairway.

“Morning, Mom,” Evie said, then turned
back to her grandfather. “Does that mean there aren’t wolves or cats anywhere
else?”

“There are plenty,” he said. “In some
cases more. But where you’ve been they are very rare. The human population is
too great, the hunting too poor. Your mother picked a good spot.”

Evie nodded, seeing the puzzle pieces of
her life falling into place.

“Out west is another story,” her
grandfather went on. “There, shifters far outnumber us in the east. Some are
natives and some are from the old world, like us. And as far as your Bigfoot
joke, in the American west there are such men who take the shape of enormous bears.
Though rare, they are very much real, and quite intimidating to humans.”

For the first time since the serious
conversation had begun Evie smiled. “You’ve seen them?”

“I have.”

“Are they scary?”

“Well, I won’t say I was completely
comfortable around them. They are very, very big, and tremendously strong.”

“That’s so funny. Bigfoot is actually a
bear-shifter …”

“I didn’t say that.” Joseph Snow smiled
mostly with his eyes. “I said such shifters exist. They may account for some
Bigfoot sightings. Then again, there may very well be something more. The American
west is no small place, my dear. Ludlow has the warm feel of home to us, do
doubt. But to visit the west is truly magical for any wolf; it must be seen in
person to be appreciated. The cats are spread much thinner, and a wolf can trot
all day and night without once scenting a human. And the scenery—”

“I wanna go there,” Evie said, as for a
second she could picture herself running full speed across a plane with no
visible end.

“Soon enough you’ll get your chance,” he
smiled.

Before Evie could ask
when
, her grandmother was speaking.

“Your grandfather is highly esteemed
with the pack leaders of the west,” Evelyn said. “It’s from them that he hopes
for help in relocating the boy in the basement.”

“Speak of the devil,” Joe said, his face
turning serious again. “He must be more than miserable by now. He hasn’t had
food or water since his arrival.”

“Don’t look at me,” Evelyn said with a quick
shaking of her head. “He’s your pet project.”

“I’ll bring him something,” Evie
volunteered as she stood from the couch. “I was just about to get something for
myself anyway.”

“Just let him out and bring him upstairs,”
her grandfather told her. “We’re not running a five-star hotel here.”

“And have him here with
us
?” Evie joked on her way to the
fridge. “I don’t feel
that
bad for
him.”

From the fridge she took out a bag of
roast beef, rolled several slices on a plate—eating one herself for each one
rolled for him—and walked to the basement doorway. “Papa,” she said hovering in
the doorway, “why do y’all even have that room in the basement?”

Joseph Snow laughed softly. “A few of
your uncles, especially Lester, were quite the wild ones as young men. The naughty
room spared the rest of the house and farm.”

“Not to mention our sanity,” Evelyn
added.

“Oh,” Evie breathed as she started down
the stairs; a wide smirk stretched her mouth. She was imagining how greatly
Uncle Lester must have enjoyed tossing the snitch into his old holding pen.

“You up in there?” Evie called through
the naughty room door.

“Yeah,” Dale finally answered. There was
no energy in his voice.

Evie unbolted the door on her side, and
opened it when Dale unbolted his side. He was squinting in the light from the
small basement windows as the door swung open. His dark hair was a rat’s nest,
his eyes swollen, his clothing a wrinkled mess hanging loosely from his thin
frame.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey. I figured you might be hungry.”

“I am. Thirsty too.”

“You can have water upstairs.”

Dale stood still. “Is that a good idea?
Me going up there?”

“No one’s gonna bite you,” she said,
holding out the plate of roast beef. “Here; it’s not fancy but it beats starving.”

“Thanks,” Dale said, and he walked along
several steps behind Evie, eating fast as he went. Entering the kitchen from
the basement door, he squinted as he chewed; the upstairs was very bright after
being in the basement. Then he looked into the great room at the three other
Ludlows. They were watching him closely. “Good morning,” he said tentatively.

“Morning,” Joe replied.

“Here’s your water,” Evie said, handing
him a glass.

“You know where the bathroom is,” Joe
said, motioning toward the short hallway beyond the kitchen. “Nature calls us
all.”

“Thank you,” Dale said. Where in normal
circumstances he might have smiled, he now set down his empty glass, turned and
walked uncomfortably through the kitchen to the hall.

Evie rejoined the family in the great
room. “Do you really hate him, Gram?” she asked when she heard the bathroom
door shut.

“Oh, maybe not as much as I let on. But
I can’t say I enjoy him much either. I know a scavenger when I see one.”

“Motherly instincts are strong,” Janie
said. “Add the wolf on top of it, and we can get a little … uh … let’s say
feisty
.”

Evie raised her brows. “You mean … B—”

“Very much so,” Grammy Evelyn said. “You’re
wise not to use that word in my house. And if you’d raised as many kids as I
have, and helped with more grandkids, you’d understand the impulse thoroughly. A
mean mother bear has nothing on
us
once we’re rubbed the wrong way.”

“You’ve never been the slightest bit aggressive,”
Evie said to her mother. “I’m
way
more
aggressive than you.”

“Where we live, I’ve never really had to
be. I am capable of it, though, if I’m pushed.”

Evie’s face suddenly lit up. “
That’s
why you would never take me to
the zoo! And no pets! None of y’all have pets.”

“Oh no.” Janie frowned, shaking her head.
“I don’t do zoos. I can’t. I refuse.”

Evie looked to her grandmother. “I
begged and begged her to go to the zoo. But no, I had to wait until my friends’
parents finally took me.”

“Don’t look at me for sympathy,” her
grandmother laughed. “I’m with her on this.”

Evie tried her grandfather next. “Does
it freak you out or what?”

“It’s … one of those places best avoided
by a wolf,” he said. “There’s a little too much temptation packed into a very
small area.”

“You’re surrounded by animals here.”

“Animals we’ve lived alongside of for
countless generations,” Joe explained. “You’ll be hard-pressed to find a
screeching monkey on a Snow farm.”

The sound of the bathroom door opening
from down the hall halted the conversation, and Joseph Snow stood from the
couch saying, “That’s my cue.” He hugged his daughter and said goodbye, did the
same with his wife, and walked to the kitchen with his arm around Evie. Dale
stopped near the main entry. Evie sat on one of the bar stools.

“My mom,” Dale began nervously.

“She’s all right,” Joe assured him. “My
sister, Lynda, put her up comfortably for the night. I know this seems like
overkill, but we’re better safe than sorry.”

“Thank you, sir,” Dale said with a weak
nod.

“Let’s get started,” Joe said with a nod
of his own. “We’ll pick up some food from The Kitchen, swing into Cold Springs
and give you both a few minutes to collect some valuables from your place, and
then we’re off.”

“I’m sorry again for the trouble,” Dale
said, partly to Joe and partly to Evie. He could make full eye contact with
none of them. “You’re good people, obviously. Things could have gone much worse
for me than they have. I—”

“You’re welcome,” Joe cut him off, as
the women in the great room stared silently.

“Good luck,” Evie said from her seat at
the island bar. It wasn’t a terribly warm wish, but it wasn’t completely hollow
either.

“Thank you,” Dale said. “It was nice
meeting you, Evie. I wish the circumstances had been better. Maybe we—”

“All right,” Joe said, opening the front
door with one hand while steering the young man with the other hand. “Out you
go.” He stopped in the doorway and locked eyes with Evie. “Stick around close
to home until I return. Erica will be here to start you on your schooling.”

“Ugh, Papa …”

“Just do it,” her grandfather said with
a wink. “I’ll see you in the morning.” He stepped out and closed the door.

Evie spun around and faced her mother. “And
you’re leaving too?”

“In a few hours, yes. I’m flying
commercial
,” she said with a play frown.

“You needn’t worry about being bored, dear,”
her grandmother said. “Once you get your school work done, I’ll be glad to
assign you some chores.” Then she made a shuddering sound. “Bless your grandfather’s
heart; he controls the wolf better than anyone I’ve ever known. Every drop of
my blood wants to tear that boy to shreds.”

-14-

Evie returned to the great room and
flopped on a couch, smirking at her grandmother’s wrath. The old woman stood up,
flustered, and walked to the kitchen muttering something under breath.

“Listen,” Janie said to her daughter. “Erica
will be here soon. While we have a quiet minute, let me fill you in on my plans.”

Listening to her without distraction
then, Evie suddenly realized that her mother had already begun losing her
southern drawl in the matter of the few days spent in her old home. For a
moment Evie wondered how long her own accent would last in the north. “Besides
going home and back to work?” she asked.