The Alpha's Mate (21 page)

She wasn’t sure if it was Ruby’s brew that
relaxed him into the speech patterns of his childhood or just
a-settin’ on the porch a-rockin’, but it was a nice sound and he
seemed to have let go of some of his anger.

“We both grew up in the wrong place, not
fitting in the way our parents thought we should. You wanted fine
crystal. I wanted jelly glasses. You wanted to live in a high rise
with a wall of windows. I wanted a front porch with mismatched
rockers. You took care of it better, though. You had the guts to
stand up for what you wanted and your father let you go. He may not
have understood it, but he let you go. My mother wouldn’t let go
and I never had your kind of courage. I’m a thirty-two year old
runaway.” She poured a little more in both their glasses. One more
sip and she was switching back to tea. This time, she toasted
him.

“I’ll bet he’d be proud to know you started
your own pack. That can’t be easy and being the Alpha here, he’d
understand that better than most. Of course, if he was anything
like my mother, he’d never admit it or if he did, he’d take the
credit for it.” She saw the corner of his mouth quirk just like
Marshall’s did and knew she scored a point. “Now, are you going to
tell me why you’re so angry with Marshall for getting stuck in a
place you never wanted, to take care of people you never liked, in
a position you already hold, in a place you like better, with
people who are more like you?”

Charles thought about it for a minute and
burst out laughing. “Could you repeat the question?”

“No I can’t, but you know what I mean.” She
put the lid on Ruby’s jar and screwed the lid on tight. “Ice tea
for both of us from here on out. Now tell.”

“Nothing to tell. Two years after I graduated
college, the Alpha had a series of strokes. Marshall, as his
second, protected the old man’s holdings and fought off two
attempts to take his position.”

Elizabeth held up her hand. “Stop. What does
that mean, two attempts to take the position?”

“Any male has the right to challenge for the
position of Alpha.”

“And?” Elizabeth rolled her hand to signal
she wanted more. She wasn’t going to let him evade the
question.

“It’s a fight to the death,” he said
bluntly.

It was barbaric and Marshall was only
twenty-one year’s old! She was grateful for her mother’s lessons in
keeping one’s emotions to oneself, but she wished she hadn’t capped
Ruby’s jar.

“Where were you and your brother when all
this was going on?” She was relieved that her voice sounded even
and uncommitted. She was tipsy, but not drunk and she was
determined to see this to the end.

“We decided early on that Mikey should stay
out of it. He’d already met Delia and we all knew he wasn’t coming
back. It wasn’t his fight. I called, but Marshall said he had it
handled, so I kept doing what I do best.”

“How many times did you visit, Charles?”

“Marshall said it was all good.”

Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest and
stared him down the way she did little boys she caught looking for
‘dirty’ pictures in the section on Ancient Greece.

“I came home for the reading of the will… and
the naming of the Alpha.”

She nodded. “When was the will written?”

“Right after his first stroke and before you
ask, the one before left everything to my mother to be distributed
as she saw fit.”

“And who was named the Alpha then?”

“No one. We were boys when that was written.
Rusty Cramer was his second back then, but he was older than the
Alpha and never would have held the position. The Alpha’s second
isn’t necessarily in line for the position. It’s someone the Alpha
trusts beyond all others.”

“And your father trusted Marshall more than
you.”

“Yes, dammit! I was his first born and it
should have gone to me.”

The anger was back, but she saw it for what
it was. It was a boy’s anger at a father who didn’t see his worth.
Elizabeth could argue that the boy had evaded his responsibility.
He hadn’t come home when he was needed, but that argument had
probably been made before and somewhere inside him, Charles knew it
was true. But this wasn’t about acts. It was about feelings. She
reached out her hand to comfort him and then pulled it back. Her
sympathy wouldn’t make it better. And she was afraid to touch
him.

“Don’t blame Marshall because your father was
an ass,” she said quietly. A tear spilled over and another
followed. She didn’t try to hide it. “Your brother’s a good man. He
loves this place and the people who live here. You and Mikey left
to build the lives you dreamed of. You had a right to do that, but
did either of you ever ask Marshall about his dreams?” By the way
he refused to look at her she knew the answer. There was one reason
and one reason only that Marshall had become the Alpha. “He
stayed.”

They sat in silence watching the sun lower
behind the trees.

“One last question, if I may?”

“Go ahead. Finish it.” The man’s easy charm
was gone. He sounded tired.

“Why didn’t you challenge for the Alpha?” She
knew the answer before he gave it.

“He’s my brother, damn you.”

He was off the porch and running for the back
of the house so she didn’t know if he heard her.

“He still is, Charles. He still is.”

Chapter 21

She might have spent the night sleeping in
the rocker with a blanket wrapped around her and her knees pulled
up to her chest, if Marshall hadn’t woken her with his yelling. She
wrapped her arms around her head to keep it from exploding.

“Don’t yell at me. Please, please,” she
begged.

“Godammit, woman. Your car’s in the yard.
Your doors are unlocked. Your keys and pocketbook are on the
counter and you don’t answer when I call! I thought something
happened to you. That it wasn’t over.”

“Sorry, Mom. Could you send me to my room
now? At least it’s quiet in there.” She tried to unroll the ball
she’d folded her body into. “Marshall? Marshall? My legs won’t
move.” She’d read stories about white lightning causing blindness
and even death. She opened her eyes, saw only darkness and then
remembered it was nighttime.

“You’re drunk,” he said.

“Tipsy,” she muttered. “I was fine until I
went in to get my blanket and then the world started to spin. I
barely made it back to my rocker.”

“Why didn’t you go to bed?”

She had to think about it. “Because the
blanket was for my rocker?” She frowned. “Is this a trick
question?”

“No. It’s proof that you’re a few sips beyond
tipsy.” He was laughing at her. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“I can’t move my legs.”

“I’ll move them for you, babe.”

He picked her up and carried her into the
house. She snuggled into his arms and purred her contentment. It
was nice being curled up next to his chest and everywhere he
touched her sent a pleasurable tingle to her core. Which reminded
her of Charles. Not nearly as strong, but pleasant nonetheless. She
giggled.

“Why haven’t you told me about Charles and
Mikey?”

If he hadn’t been holding her, she might not
have noticed the slight tensing of his body. She wiggled in closer
to try to get the snuggly feeling back.

“I haven’t gotten around to it. Why?”

“Charles has come around a few times. I think
I like him. Did you know he’s the Alpha of a pack in Cincinnati?
Isn’t that nice?”

Marshall laid her on the bed and drew the
covers over her. “Did he…? Did you…?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “He’s the reason I’m
tipsy.” She wanted to tell him about their talk, tell him that he
shouldn’t be so angry with Charles, but she was so tired and her
mind was foggy and the headache eased when she closed her eyes. She
could explain it all in the morning.

But in the morning, Marshall wasn’t there.
The left side of the bed was still neatly made and by the stiffness
of her joints, she hadn’t moved much in her sleep. She was groggy
and a slight headache pounded at the back of her head. She’d been
warned about Ruby’s brew and now she knew why.

Elizabeth padded to the kitchen in search of
coffee and aspirin and frowned at the gloomy skies and rain. It
would have been an ideal morning to snuggle in bed. She hoped
Marshall was as disappointed as she was.

He’d certainly been a little miffed last
night. She’d had too much to drink, but she wasn’t so far gone not
to remember the look on his face when he put her to bed. He’d
laughed when he found her sitting out on the porch so it wasn’t the
drinking that upset him and he hadn’t shown any signs of jealousy
before, not even when he thought she was interested in Henry. No,
his anger was triggered because this man was his brother.

There were hard feelings between them. That
was clear from what Charles said and that being the case, Marshall
would not be happy to know that his brother was talking to her and
not to him. She also had to wonder if both being Alphas would add
more friction. Wolves were territorial and from what little she’d
gathered, these wolvers were, too. She’d have to ask him about it
later when they talked. There was so much she didn’t know, so much
to learn.

With coffee mug in hand, she went back to the
bedroom to lay out her clothes for the day. A pair of jeans topped
with a plain white silk shell and a navy blue blazer should do the
trick. Maggie had given her a few names and directions and she was
ready to begin work. She didn’t want the people she was
interviewing to see her as one of those University people Maggie
had described, but she did want to look neat and tidy and
respectful.

But before she made her first call, she was
going to stop in town and see Marshall. The more she thought about
it, the more she felt the need to clear the air. Maybe it was new
lover’s jitters, or maybe it was her own guilt over how she felt
when Charles touched her, nevertheless, the sooner she spoke to
Marshall, the better she’d feel.

But it was not to be. When she drove through
town, there were two county cruisers and a black sedan with state
plates and a bubble light on the dash parked out front of Town
Hall. Marshall was busy with what looked like more than routine
business. She wondered if it had anything to do with the growers
Maggie had told her about.

A few people waved as she passed by and she
waved back smiling to herself about word being out that George had
found a home for his unwanted baby truck. If it made her more
recognizable, so be it. She liked being waved to and waving back.
Someday she might even have the nerve to toot her horn. Her mother
would be appalled.

She had reason to thank her mother later and
she promised she would do it in her next email. Maggie said it was
best not to call and make an appointment, but it was difficult to
knock on a stranger’s door, introduce yourself and explain why you
were there. With her mother’s training, she accomplished it smiling
and looking relaxed even though she felt like she was going to wet
her pants. She needn’t have worried.

The door was opened by a smiling woman of
about seventy who already knew who she was and what she wanted. If
her first call was any indication of what the rest would be like,
she wouldn’t suffer for lack of material and she would enjoy
collecting every bit of it.

Mamie Jacobs was ninety-seven years old and
looked every day of it. Her skin was papery thin and her pink scalp
almost glowed through the sparse white curls. Her hands looked over
large for her frail, thin body. The knuckles were twisted and
gnarled with arthritis. But the woman was bright and alert.

“I still got every wit I was borned with,”
she informed Elizabeth after introductions were made, “And I even
put my good teeth in so’s to prove it to ye when I spoke.”

She had stories to tell of people she knew
and things she’d seen and after a particularly hilarious tale of a
disastrous wedding day “that weren’t but an omen of thangs to
come”; Elizabeth could only hope that her own laughter hadn’t
drowned out the old woman’s words on the recorder.

She could have spent the whole day listening
to Mamie, but made her excuses when she saw the woman was tiring
and asked if she could come again. Mamie was all smiles and so was
the daughter-in-law who’d disappeared into the kitchen two minutes
after Elizabeth arrived to fix them lunch. Sandwiches were served
an hour later and the woman had disappeared again.

“You come back anytime,” the daughter-in-law
said. She walked Elizabeth out to the truck. “Ma truly does love to
tell a tale and it sure is nice for her to have someone new to tell
them to. She’s only got me and Harold.”

Elizabeth heard the weariness in the woman’s
voice. “Maybe next time,” she suggested tentatively, “I could visit
with Mamie while you ran some errands or visited with friends.”

The woman, no youngster herself, smiled
broadly. “Maggie said you were a good one. I’d be grateful for the
break.”

“Small sacrifices,” Elizabeth whispered to
herself as she pulled out onto the road. That woman’s smile made
her feel better than she ever had writing a check to one of her
mother’s charities.

It was well into the afternoon and the
younger Mrs. Jacobs had given her direction to the nearest shopping
center which was only fifteen minutes away. She shopped the rest of
the afternoon away, though she purchased only a few small items for
the cabin.

She was feeling quite pleased with her day’s
success and decided to treat herself to a decent supper. Not that
the food at the Dizzy Dish wasn’t good. It was, but she did miss
the ambiance of a more upscale establishment and she was tired of
the soup and sandwich she usually fixed herself at the Home
Place.

She smiled at her use of the words. It was
true. That three room cabin had become more of a home to her than
any other place she’d lived, including her apartment which was
decorated more to Mother’s taste than hers. It certainly wasn’t the
décor that made the tiny house home. There wasn’t any. It had to be
the people who visited there.