The Alpha's Daughter (20 page)

"Are you coming to the frolic?" she
asked.

Livvy nodded, but didn't slow down.

Jazz decided yes or no questions wouldn't
work. "I've never been to one. What's it like?" She slowed her pace
a little.

It worked. Livvy slowed down to answer.

"It's fun," she said brightly. "There's food
and music and dancing. Then, when it's time, the men go over the
moon and the Alpha waves his hand and the women go over, too. The
ones that want to anyway. Some of the older women stay back to
watch the pups. I made my first run last year," She said proudly
and then frowned. "Miz Mary worries when the Alpha takes us all
over. It takes a lot out of him. The Alpha and Mate don't go over
the moon much anymore. They're kind of old for that kind of thing,
you know. So are Ma and Daddy, but there's no telling them
that."

The girl was referring to the sexual arousal
that usually accompanied going over the moon. Jazz smiled to
herself and wondered if the young woman beside her thought she was
too old. With the wisdom of the young, Livvy probably considered
anyone over twenty-five too old for 'that kind of thing'.

"Sometimes it's best to let folks figure
things out for themselves," Jazz said neutrally.

"I know, but seeing your parents act like
that can be embarrassing. Especially in front of your friends."

"So everyone comes?"

"No. There's fewer every year. Worn out, I
guess, or smart enough to know they're too old. Not this time,
though. Everyone will be there."

They reached the road in front of Livvy's
house and stopped.

"Why this time?"

"To meet you, of course." There was
speculation in Livvy's glance. "Are you going to mate Doc
Goodman?"

Jazz frowned, reminded of why she was out
here in the first place. "Not likely," she muttered.

Livvy shrugged to show it was no big deal.
"Ma thinks you are. She told Daddy you two were getting' it
on."

"What?" Jazz sputtered.

"I know," Livvy giggled in misunderstanding.
"She always sounds so funny when she says things like that. You
can't tell her, though. I guess it's just another thing she'll have
to figure out for herself." She started across the road and turned
back. "Thanks, Miz Jazz, for being cool an' all about me and Brad.
I hope you're right about Ma and Daddy. Older folks can be funny
sometimes."

Jazz gave her a wink and waved to Ellie who
had come out on the porch as her daughter crossed the road.

Jazz crossed her fingers for luck and hoped she'd done the
right thing in her advice to the young couple. The odds were slim
that their love affair would blossom into something more. First
loves rarely did, but once the heartache of the breakup was gone,
she wanted them to have the bittersweet memory of what once was and
a taste of what would come again.

She had no such memories and for her the
flavor of love was bitter to the tongue. For her, love was a trap
that could lock her behind the bars of a life she didn't want. She
knew love didn't have to be that way. She saw it in Ellie and Tom
and even in Donna and the long suffering Harvey. Jazz saw it in the
Alpha and his Mate, too, but that was a love she couldn't count on.
Love was a matter of trust and how could you trust a man who held
such power over you that you couldn't leave him if you tried.

"Evenin'," a quiet voice called from the
porch.

"Miz Mary?"

"None other. Why don't you step up here and
say hey."

Jazz mounted the steps and found the Mate
sitting in her rocker. She was wearing an old quilt as a shawl.

"I've been enjoying the quiet of the
evening," The older woman told Jazz. She tapped her heart. "Most
everybody is content for a change," she said, referring to the
Mate's ability to feel the emotions of her pack. "Heard you had a
bit of a party the other night."

"It wasn't meant to be a party," Jazz told
her. She didn't want the Mate to think she wasn't invited. "We had
supper on the porch."

"Delroy Higgins said you make a mighty fine
meatball."

Jazz didn't know who Delroy Higgins was, but
she said, "It's a simple recipe. He can have it if he likes."

"I don't think he'll be lookin' for it soon.
His mate, Audra Mae, didn't talk to him for two days after he said
so." She laughed and winked. "Though that might not be such a bad
thing for Delroy."

"Oh, okay then, I won't feel too badly about
it." Jazz leaned against the porch post. "Did you hear about the
Wardman's baby?"

"I did," the Mate nodded. "Mark Wardman
thinks the sun sets on you and Doc is a miracle worker."

"Doc worked the miracle. Two, in fact. I
didn't do anything but hold the baby and clean up."

"And see Mark's need to please his mate and
understand his pride."

"Doc needed bookcases," Jazz shrugged it off
as no big deal.

"Don't sell yourself short," the Mate
admonished. "Getting' a mite chilly out here. Step inside and I'll
get us something to warm us up."

"Oh," Jazz hesitated, "I don't want to
disturb your evening."

"You're not disturbing me," Miz Mary said as
she held the door for Jazz, "But something's disturbing you. You
may not be one of my own yet, but I can tell. Come on back to the
kitchen and you can tell me about it."

Miz Mary motioned to a chair and set a small
glass of amber liquid in front of Jazz. "Apple pie," she said,
"Warms the heart and loosens the tongue."

Jazz took a sip and her eyes teared as the
alcohol slid down her throat and burst into flame in her stomach.
It did taste like apple pie, 190 proof apple pie.

The Mate sipped hers and didn't bat an eye.
"Misty taste of moonshine - Teardrops in my eye," she sang to
herself and chuckled.

Jazz recognized the lyrics and stared at the
older woman, wondering if there really was something mystical in
the power of a Mate. "That was my mother's favorite song," she
said, "Country Roads." It was also the song that had annoyed Griz
so much.

"Hmm, imagine that. I've always been partial
to it myself." She smiled and quoted, "Take me home to the place I
belong." And then she shrugged. "So, you going to tell me about it
or do I have to pry it out of you?"

"You just said it. I don't have a home. I
don't have a place I belong. I don't belong with my father's pack.
I don't belong here and I don't think I'll belong where I was going
either." Jazz took another sip of moonshine to give her an excuse
for the tears in her eyes.

"Who says you don't belong here?" Miz Mary
asked, sounding rather fierce." And when Jazz closed her eyes and
wouldn't answer, "Doc Goodman tell you that?"

Jazz was only going to answer with a slight
nod of her head. Instead, she told the Mate everything about her
day; how she wanted Griz's place to look good for the frolic and
how careful she was not to make it girly and how she'd foolishly
thought he'd moved the pigs for her. "I even moved the bed upstairs
so he wouldn't be embarrassed when someone knocked on his door in
the middle of the night."

"So he wouldn't be embarrassed or you
wouldn't?"

Jazz stared at the woman. How did she know
these things?

"You and the Doc have been sharing a bed,
ain'tcha?" Miz Mary asked bluntly.

Startled, Jazz answered without thinking.
"Um, sort of." She felt the color rise to her face.

The old woman's eyes widened. "Sort of?
Either you are or you aren't. Which is it?"

"We share a bed, but all we do is sleep in
it," Jazz said, not sure which was more embarrassing, the admission
or talking about her sex life with the Mate. She took another sip
of the false courage and then another.

"Hmph. The man's stronger than I thought."
The Mate frowned, clearly disappointed and then she shrugged. "Some
folks find strength in sorrow," she said cryptically. "Whether
that's good or not depends on what they use it for." She didn't
look happy. She, too, took a sip of Apple Pie and set the glass
back down on the table with a lot more force than necessary. "For
all his fancy education, that boy's a damn fool. He's like a man
looking at the sky, praying to God for something to eat and never
looking at the good things growing right there beneath his feet.
Dumber 'n dirt is what he is."

"He's not dumb. He's brilliant." Without
thinking, Jazz came to Griz's defense. As angry and hurt as she
was, she didn't want Miz Mary to think badly of him. "He's writing
a medical text, Miz Mary. For us, for wolvers. It's never been done
before. No one else ever cared enough. It's not enough he has the
magic to cure things other wolvers can't. It's not enough that he
saves a life. The ones he loses tear at him. He wants this pack to
be healthy and strong. Like it should be. Like it once was. He
kissed me," she blurted. It had nothing to do with what she was
trying to say and she had no idea why she said it.

Miz Mary's eyes brightened. "He did, did he?
What was it like?"

What was she supposed to say to that,
particularly since she hadn't meant to say it in the first place?
Jazz settled on, "Nice." And took another sip.

"Nice? Hmph, I thought our Doc would have a
little more going for him than nice, once he got around to it
anyway." Miz Mary pursed her lips.

"It wasn't just nice. It was toe curling,"
Jazz blurted again. It was like she had to say it. She couldn't
stop. "Toe curling, bells ringing, big marching band playing in the
background. It was the best kiss I've ever had."

The Mate's face brightened. "And you've had a
few." She replenished Jazz's glass. Her own remained on the
table.

"I have." Jazz admitted. "Enough to know that
one kiss sunk every other boat in the harbor."

"Shook him up, too, I'll bet."

Jazz could almost see the wheels turning in
the old woman's head, but couldn't tell in what direction they were
headed. She took another sip of the Apple Pie, liking the fiery
liquid more with each taste.

"I know it did. What I can't understand is
why one minute he's tearing off my… ah… he's eager and the next
he's throwing me out." Jazz lifted the glass to her lips.

The Mate laughed. "You scared him, honey. You
woke up a part of him he thought was dead, a part he wanted to stay
dead."

"I don't understand…" Jazz began, but the
Mate held up her hand for silence.

"Leonard? You over there?" she called.

It was a minute before the Alpha poked his
head in the door. "You need me, lovey?"

"Always," the Mate winked and laughed. "Right
now though, I think you've got some business to attend to. Tell him
what you told me, Jazz," and then she laughed again at Jazz's
reddening face, "Just the part about selling those pigs."

Jazz told him and he immediately frowned.

"Lessin' I died and don't know it, I'm still
the Alpha around here. You done your penance yet? For whuppin' the
snot outa some members of my pack," he added when Jazz looked
confused.

"Oh! Oh, no. Donna says the ground's not
ready," she explained hastily lest he think she was shirking her
punishment. "I've been over at Ellie's though."

"Well you ain't going nowhere until your
sentence is served. I told Doc you were his responsibility until
all was said and done and it won't be said and done until the next
Court date to be set when I say it is." He shook his finger at
Jazz. "You just put that money in your pocket and keep it safe and
you tell that man of yours…" He looked at his wagging finger and
curled it into his fist. "Never you mind. I'll tell him myself."
The Alpha started to leave the room and turned back. "Lovey?
Where'd I put my hat?"

Miz Mary looked heavenward. "On the table in
the parlor by the phone, dear," she told him and Jazz had a feeling
this was a daily question asked and answered.

"Oh yeah, I forgot."

"You always do, dear," the Mate whispered,
shaking her head and confirming Jazz's suspicions. She looked at
Jazz and smiled. "Men like Leonard forgive others their mistakes,
learn from their own, then bury the bones and forget where they
buried them, the same way he forgets where he put his hat.

"For other men, it's not so easy. They might
be able to forgive others, but they can't forgive themselves and
set those bones to rest. They hoard those bones up, build a wall
around them and gnaw at them 'till they're chewed to dust. Takes a
strong woman to dig that hole and bury those bones for 'em, a
strong mate."

"With all due respect, Miz Mary, you're
barking up the wrong tree. He doesn't want me and I don't want to
be a mate," Jazz said firmly. Sure, she was angry. Griz had taken
her hard work and thrown it back in her face. Yeah, she was hurt.
He'd acted as if she was the one who got carried away with that
kiss. It made her feel like dirt, but that was all it was. Wasn't
it?

As if she could read the question in Jazz's
mind, Miz Mary answered with a question of her own.

"Then why are you building a den?"

Jazz sat back and stared at the woman. Was
that what she was doing? For all their human ways and appearance,
wolver women were still tied to the wolf who lived inside and the
wolf's instincts ran strong. When she found a suitable mate,
instinct called her to build a den. Like other instincts, the call
could be denied… if you recognized what was going on. Holy
shit!

"I don't want to be a mate, anyone's mate,"
Jazz cried, fighting the panic growing inside her.

"Your wolf does. Maybe you should stop
listening to your head and start listening to your heart. Listen to
your wolf." The Mate sat back with a very smug look on her
face.

"Bullshit," Jazz said, forgetting for a
moment who she was talking to. "It's lust, not love. We've only
known each other for a few days."