Winter Howl (Sanctuary) (2 page)

“Well, that’s just rude, having a dog around when you’re not really blind and then not letting a little girl pet it,” the mother said indignantly.

“I’m sorry. She’s working.” The words came out short and clipped and curt, but Renee was not really that angry. Her throat was just tightening, and she could feel her shoulders curling in.

“Bitch,” the woman muttered under her breath as she grabbed her daughter’s free hand—the girl’s other hand had been playing with Britt’s tail. The little girl was lucky that Britt was an extremely well-behaved dog. The woman led her daughter across the street.

“Good girl,” Renee whispered, rubbing Britt’s ear gently. “Ready to go?”

She barely had to tug the leash in the direction of the grocery store. Britt had a deep bond with Renee, had been with her most of her life and been her service dog for about five years. She could feel where Renee wanted to go.

Renee admired Britt’s beauty beneath the deep green service vest. So many people confused her for a Siberian husky, and Renee understood the mistake. They were both northern sled dogs, but malamutes were bigger, with thicker fur. Britt was a little larger than average, and the darkest parts of her fur—set off by the usual white accents—were almost black. Malamutes were not traditionally service dogs. But Renee had loved Britt since the first time she’d met her, and the feeling had been mutual. There was friendship and respect between them, a connection that she had never managed to make with any of the people at school. It was really no wonder she spent all her time around dogs—she understood them and got along with them so much better than she did with most people.

With Britt in front of her, Renee felt secure in her steps. The sides of her coat hood blocked out her periphery, like blinders on a horse, and she felt a little more confident where she put her feet. Besides, with a large dog like Britt with her—a dog that was occasionally confused for a wolf—she felt more protected. Like a celebrity with a bodyguard, thankfully without the paparazzi.

They made it to the grocery store in about a ten-minute walk. That was what she liked about Main Street. Almost everything was within walking distance, so all she had to do was drive into Antoine, walk around a bit, then drive back home when she was finished, rather than drive from one place to another, and another, and another. Renee was able to stretch her legs after the long drive into town, and certainly Britt needed the exercise as well.

Renee did not need to go to the grocery store often, and she did not necessarily need to go now, which just went to show how much better she had become in public places. But she wanted to get a few treats to tide herself over before all her orders were shipped in. That was actually how she did most of her shopping—online through bulk providers. She had the space, the money and the resources, and most of the things shipped in
needed
to be shipped in bulk. Besides, it was such a long drive between Antoine and where she lived.

There had been a time right after her father had died when she could not even walk into a grocery store without panicking, a time when she could not walk off her property without feeling everything coming in to crush her, as if the entire world had a force field of inhospitality. That was what each successive building had felt like once she stepped out into the world—like a heavy, unpleasant curtain surrounded each of them, and it would take all her effort to pass through. And sometimes she couldn’t.

With Britt, though, she was able to walk into places much more easily about ninety per cent of the time.

A grocery store should have been easier, in theory. All those people should have made her feel less conspicuous—she should be able to do better in crowds where she was anonymous and no one really cared. She should do worse with one-to-one interactions. But quite irrationally, it was the other way around. While she was quite bad at one-to-one interactions outside her sanctuary, she was even worse in places that tended to attract more people. Marie’s bar, The Benefit, was small and close, and although it tended to get more crowded by around four in the afternoon, Renee avoided it at that time. The grocery store, however, was another matter altogether. It was more than just a public place—it was a
frequented
public place, and that meant that the unwelcome energy surrounding it seemed to pulse against her.

Swallowing, Renee squinted at the people she could see inside. None of them were looking, none of them were judging. They were all going about their business. She was not the centre of the universe, she reminded herself sternly. The muscle of her heart felt as though it was forcing itself against the thin walls of her lungs, rattling her ribs.

Britt whined slightly as Renee retrieved a shopping cart. She could do this with Britt at her side. Then she could leave. If she could just get through this, she could go back home. That was good motivation to do what she needed to do. Her heart was still racing and her breathing was still a little shallow, but Britt stayed next to her, with her fur brushing Renee’s jeans.

When she had finally finished, she pushed her cart to the self-checkout. Once she wheeled the cart out into the parking lot—relieved to be outside and breathing open air again—she saw a few dry flakes of snow fall on her coat sleeves. She guessed there was not going to be anything more than a flurry, but it would only be a sample of what was to come in future months.

Renee took the bags out of the cart and opened her duffel to pack them in. The bag was heavy on her shoulder when she started walking again, but aside from altering her gait, it did not bother her much.

The cold air felt great on her face, since she was beginning to sweat a little. She went around Main Street this time, behind the shops, among the employee parking and the dumpsters.

She rushed through the alleyway and finally reached the intersection between downtown Main Street and the beginning of Antoine proper. Her blue 2000 F150 was waiting at the end of the downtown parking lot. She was going to break into a jog to reach her truck that much faster, but two things held her back. One, Britt did not let her hurry. And two, Josh stepped out from behind the hood, where he had been leaning against the driver’s side door.

“Hello, peaches,” Josh said. “Plan to leave town for the rest of the winter and use the snow as an excuse?”

Renee hesitated at the edge of the last building, as if she had run into a glass window—but then she pushed through and circled around the truck, away from Josh. There was a chest in the covered bed of her truck that she usually put her groceries in. Her keys clinked as she pulled them out of her coat pocket and unlocked the back of the truck.

“Sit,” she murmured to Britt. She needed both her hands to climb into the bed.

“Just going to ignore me?” Josh asked. “That’d be nothing new.”

Renee opened the bed and lifted her duffel up into it, then crawled up to open the chest at the other end of the bed.

A low growl that made even the truck vibrate alerted Renee to the fact that something was wrong. She glanced back as Josh pushed himself up into the bed and started to crawl in after her. Renee had to hand it to him. He was crawling after a woman with a wolf-like dog growling at him, and although his face showed a trace of concern, he did not seem scared enough. He was either very persistent or just very stupid. Britt’s brows twitched as she looked from Josh to Renee, waiting for Renee to decide what to do with the situation and whether she could handle it herself. But what Josh had not anticipated was that the truck was part of Renee’s space, just like her land. And Josh had just entered her space.

“Don’t you ever get lonely up there those dark winter nights?” Josh asked. “Don’t you ever wish—?”

“I didn’t go out with you in high school. What makes you think I’m considering it now?” Renee said.

Josh blinked.

“Time,” he said, overcoming his surprise. “You’re all alone, and it’s been what? Seven years? Things change.
I’ve
changed.”

“I’m not alone,” Renee said.

“Oh, that’s right,” Josh said. “Your dogs. As though that’s a substitute for good human companionship, especially in front of the fire with no lights on and sweet music playing… Unless they are a substitute, and I severely misjudged you.”

Renee’s face twisted in automatic disgust.

“Well, that’s a relief.”

“You haven’t changed,” Renee spat, unloading her groceries into the chest, then shoving his arm. “You haven’t changed at all.”

“And neither have you,” Josh said. He grabbed her arm, and although it didn’t hurt Renee, Britt’s growl kicked up a notch. “Up there, nothing ever changes, and nothing ever happens. It’s all safe and easy and alone, and don’t you wish something would happen? Something new, exciting, different?”

Renee slid out of the bed and tugged Josh out. She felt a little shaky, but she knew Josh was mostly talk, no action, so she did not feel as threatened as she might have with Marcus or someone like that.

“Every day,” Renee said. “You have no idea. But it’s also not you I’m looking for. God, it’s so not you.”

Josh’s jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth. She tried to pass by him, but he grabbed her arm again. His face was too close, and his gaze drifted down to her lips.

“You sure about that? You really sure about that? ’Cause it is awfully out of the way where you live, and if…”

It was Renee’s turn to blink. Maybe she had underestimated him, with that glint in his brown eyes, the set of his jaw.

But she narrowed her eyes and murmured, her voice almost inaudible outside the truck, “You try and come on my land, and I promise it will go badly. And it won’t be any fault of mine. I’m sorry.”

She tugged herself away, and he let her go without much of a fuss. Renee looked around to see whether anyone had been watching their little altercation, because if they had, she would have been mortified. But where she was parked, the last building on Main blocked most of the view.

“So I guess this is the royal brush-off again,” Josh said, leaning back against the truck as she fumbled with her keys. “Frigid bitch.”

She unlocked the door and whistled to Britt, who came over and jumped into the driver’s seat, then into the shotgun seat, settling down and keeping a sharp eye on Josh. Renee pulled herself up—it was a big truck for a small girl. Before she shut the door, she said, “Don’t I know it.”

Renee thought she heard Josh snort before she revved the engine and left him and Main Street behind. She breathed a sigh of relief and felt a muscle in her body unwind for every second she headed out of Antoine.

* * * *

In spite of the fact that Renee had always thought Josh looked down on her, she had been surprised when he’d asked her to the winter dance, a gathering between the two Antoine high schools—East and West—Barrington High School and Lex High School. At first, she’d been convinced that it was a
Carrie
-like joke, but by the third time he’d asked, she had discovered that in spite of the shiftiness of his glance when he’d asked her, he’d been serious. And she’d had no idea why. Why he would want a girl who seemed afraid of her own shadow—
seemed
, not
was
. Why he would want a girl who rarely talked and generally avoided his crowd—or any crowd, for that matter. Why he would want a girl who never stopped to give him a second glance, other than to get out of his way.

The third time she’d tried to walk past him in an effort to ignore what she thought was mockery, Josh had touched her cheek to stop her. And it had worked, because she hadn’t been used to other people touching her at all. The next thing she’d known, he’d been kissing her. His lips had been soft and a little sloppy, but it hadn’t been as bad as she had thought kissing might be. In spite of her nerves singing to get away from him, there’d been a strange warmth running from her lips down her spine to pool low in her belly. It hadn’t quite been arousal, as she had discovered later, but it had been interest, new and a little exciting. Her panic had only magnified the feeling, as it magnified everything.

In spite of herself, in spite of the nervousness that Renee had taken for granted most of her life as just a part of her, she’d felt herself lean closer. The kiss had been nothing special. But they’d only been sixteen, and it was her first. Her fingertips had brushed against his neck. She’d felt the warm velvet of his tongue on her lips, and that was when she’d jerked back. It hadn’t been that she didn’t like it, but she had reached her quota for closeness. Her nerves had reached a screaming pitch.

Renee had not given him an answer, and while her father had bought her a dress for the dance, she hadn’t gone. She’d sat at home in her dark blue, silky dress with the thin straps, corset-tie back and sparkles, and watched
Prom Night
and
Ever After,
in that order. She’d regretted not going to the dance, but she had known she would not be able to handle it, no matter what her father had said about it. The next school day, Renee had learned that Josh had gone with Kristin Fontaine. And she’d been just fine with that, although the touch of his lips had haunted her for months as she’d hidden under her covers and tried to sleep. After a while, the memory had faded. She hadn’t even missed it.

She still did not miss it. Josh might have been more interested in her than any of her other classmates had been, but that did not mean she was interested back. It did not mean that Josh was anything good for her—he was quite innocently misogynistic, intentionally anti-intellectual, although Renee remembered he had been good at math. A lowest common denominator. Her father had told her to never settle, and she intended to keep to that advice. Not to mention that she was not nearly as lonely as Josh thought she was.