Wolver's Gold (The Wolvers) (19 page)

“I’ll pass yo
ur compliment on to the cook. Bertie does love making cobblers and pies,” she said and thought of Maudie and her children.

The conversation went on through a second round of coffee, an unusual occurrence, but Rachel’s thought
s stayed with Mr. McKinley’s unfinished comment. She wondered how many of the others made the same connection and continued to think of it as she and Liddy cleared the table while the men retired to the Gentleman’s Lounge for an after dinner drink, another first and more evidence of Mr. Washington’s congeniality.

Sh
e told Bertie of the table conversation as they washed up the dishes and then repeated Mr. Doughman’s question.

“What happened?”

She thought it would be the more outspoken Bertie who would answer, but it was Liddy.

“I think it
began when the old Alpha stepped down and his son stepped up. Sterling was mature and capable and everyone thought he would walk in his father’s footsteps. The Mate he chose was kind and generous with her time. And if she was a little forthright in her opinions, what of it? She was the Mate and we loved her.”

“I liked her, too, but I’ve wondered on and off just who wore the pants in that family
,” Bertie opined. “Not that I’d mind wearing trousers, mind you. I think they be a lot easier to get around in than these skirts.”

“I don’t remember her wearing trousers,” Liddy huffed, clearly offended on the late Mate’s behalf.

“I don’t mean for real. I mean running the show. Things changed a bit, but didn’t get bad until after the old Alpha died and the Mate passed away.”

Rachel was too young to
remember much, but she was old enough to remember when the old Alpha died and was followed two years after by Sterling’s Mate.

“What happened?” she asked again.

Liddy shrugged, unable or unwilling to pass judgment on their Alpha. “Sterling wasn’t his father. Sons often aren’t,” she added sadly.

Bertie wasn’t so reticent. “
Barnabas Holt happened. That’s what.”

Once again, Rachel was struck by how little she knew about how a pack worked and what her role should be. It was easy enough to blame it on the men, but part of the fault was hers. First Bertie, and now Liddy were willing to share, but Rachel had never bothered to ask. She might grumble about the unfairness of her life, but it was she who turned this hotel into a cocoon to protect herself from the life outside it.

She
continued thinking long after Bertie went home to Victor with most of the soup and all of the leftover cobbler. Liddy, bless her, seemed to understand.

“Waking up is painful, isn’t it? Maybe that’s why we all tried so hard to remain asleep,” she whispered before kissing Rachel’s cheek and going up to her room.

“This is your fault. I never used to think about these things,” Rachel told her wolf.

The she-wolf
yipped happily at the accusation.

Barnabas Holt
became the Second after the Mate’s death. If Jack Coogan’s opinion could be trusted, the man had plans to become the next Alpha. Could he do it? Rachel wasn’t sure there was anyone within the pack strong enough to Challenge him. And what was a Challenge? What did it entail?

What about someone outside the pack?
Rachel thought about the flash of light that had changed her from woman to wolf. Was that Challenger McCall’s purpose here? Was he an Alpha looking for a pack? Could he do it?

The idea of
McCall’s possible takeover of the pack brought no concern for her loyalty to her Alpha or her pack. It did, however, engender another thought, the pain of which nearly brought her to her knees.

“
An Alpha needs a human woman to fulfill the role of Mate,” Rachel whispered. The pain was physical, like a knife piercing her stomach. She reached for a chair as her body buckled with it and started to weep.

Her wolf
, with angry conviction, began to howl.

Chapter 18

John Washington found her at the kitchen table, weeping into her palms.

“Is there something I can do?”
he asked.

Rachel
straightened and rubbed the tears away with the heels of her hands. With the handkerchief she kept tucked up her sleeve, she wiped her sniffling nose.

“I’m sorry.” She tried to smile. “I’m not used to so much traffic through my kitchen.
” The room was beginning to feel like a highway. She was used to being alone once Bertie left.

“I should be the one apologizing. I should have knocked.
I volunteered to bring the glasses back to wash. I didn’t think.” He placed the glasses he was carrying in the sink.

She was embarrassed
on her father’s behalf, that he should allow a new guest to clear away the dirty glasses, but she thought she knew why. Papa thought he’d found a new and better prospect for her to mate. She consoled herself with this tiny bit of proof that he cared.

“There’s no reason for you to knock. I had no reason to expect privacy
.” And she had a perfectly good sitting room, now, with a door that closed and locked. “Thank you. I’ll take care of them,” she said, referring to the glasses.

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?”

She almost said no. No one could help. But she suddenly changed her mind. “If it wouldn’t be a bother, might I ask you a few questions?”

“Questions are never a bother. Ask away.” He turned on the hot water.
“You need a dishwasher.”

“We have three; Bertie and me and Eustace when I can find him.
Oh, and Mrs. Hornmeyer, too.”

“You need a dishwasher,” he repeated. “Actually, it was Mrs. Hornmeyer I came to see, but I see that I’ve missed her.” He pulled a small box from his pocket, the kind the Sweet Shop used to package their candy. “It’s peanut butter fudge.
From her son. He says it’s her favorite.” He smiled at Rachel’s surprise. “She needs to speak with him. There’s been a misunderstanding on both their parts. Will you give her the message and tell her I’ll be by after school to escort her?”

“Gladly.”
Perhaps one broken heart would be mended. She picked up the cloth and started to dry the glasses Mr. Washington washed.

“I don’t know why you people don’t talk to each other. It makes no sense to me. Or
ask more questions. So let’s begin with yours.”

“I know it’s not really my business, but I was wondering how a pack is run. How is an Alpha chosen, or is he born to be one? Our Alpha is the son of the previous Alpha. Must it be earned or is it like a succession of kings, passed to the eldest son? What about a Challenge? What is it? How does it work? I’ve heard that a wolver could Challenge an Alpha. What kind of wolver would do that and why would he dare? Can any wolver do it? Wouldn’t…?”

“Whoa, Rachel, slow down.” He caught himself. “I beg your pardon. May I call you Rachel? I feel like we should be friends and I’d like you to call me John. It’s something I miss from my other life, hearing friends call me by my given name. I’d feel it a privilege to call you friend and hear you say my name.”

“I’d like that, John.”

“Good, because Mr. Washington is a mouthful. Now,” he said, switching to a very teacher-like voice, “Why would you say it’s not your business? You’re a wolver, aren’t you? That fact alone makes it your business.” He handed her another glass.

“In theory, any a
lpha wolver has the opportunity to become the Alpha of a pack. It doesn’t matter who his parents are. While some sons of Alphas follow in their father’s footsteps, not all sons want to or are suited to the job. Look at my friend, Jeremy Hoffman. He wants no part of it. Now when I say any wolver can become Alpha, not every wolver can handle it. There’s the mantle. Not every wolver is strong enough to bear it. Please tell me you know about the mantle,” he begged.

The
mantle was a term used to describe the added supernatural power that was bestowed upon the wolver who became the leader of a pack. It also was a symbol of the weight of the responsibility borne by that wolver. Every wolver knew of the mantle.

Rachel laughed. “When I was little, I thought it was a
purple cloak, trimmed in ermine, like the illustrations of kings in the storybooks. I questioned whether our Alpha really had one, because I was pretty sure I knew all the animals around here and I’d never heard of a stoat. That was the first time I felt the sting of Mrs. Pembroke’s ruler.” But not the last. It took her longer than most to learn not to ask questions, yet here she was, doing it again.

John kept talking as he took a seat at the kitchen table and when Rachel went to put the last glass on the shelf, she pulled a matching one out instead. Taking the small barrel from under the sink where they threw their bits of trash, she reached behind it and withdrew one of the bottles she’d hidden from her father. She raised it up so he could see.

“Thank you, as long as you’ll have one with me,” he said, just as she knew he would.

He was like McCall in that way. He didn’t treat her as a witless beast of burden or a helpless pretty pet. He didn’t tell her she wouldn’t understand, but answered her questions until she did.
She poured ‘two fingers’ into his glass and then added a bit more because her fingers were smaller than Mr. McCall’s. One Rachel finger went into her own.

“Tell
me about a Challenge. Is it a real contest? A show of strength?”

“You’ve never seen one? Never mind,” he said before she could answer, “Of course you haven’t.” He took a sip of whiskey. “There are three types of Challenges. The first is for fun, almost like a bet
. Two wolvers will wrestle as men or fight as beasts. There may be a little blood drawn, but no one is meant to be truly hurt. The second is a Challenge for position and more blood can be drawn, it’s usually until one wolver submits to the other. The third is for grievance and it can be to the death.”

“A grievance, as in a violation of Primal Law?”
Rachel asked, thinking of McCall’s threat to Holt.

“Yes, or a Challenge to become Alpha, which is always to the death, though sometimes in such a Challenge, the Alpha’s Second will be chosen to fight
or a Champion will be chosen. A challenger may have to fight several before he reaches the Alpha.”

Challenger would have to fight
Barnabas Holt and maybe some of his men. In spite of his backing down that first night, Rachel knew the Second was no coward. She’d heard whispers that his wolf was a massive beast, more vicious than his human. If McCall were to Challenge, he would fight his way to the Second and there would be nothing left with which to fight the Alpha.

John stood to go.
They’d talked through another hour and another glass of whiskey and Rachel was sorry it was over. Watching him rinse his glass and set it in the sink, she came to realize that except in age, she was not so different from Liddy. She was a little bit in love with this man and a part of her wished her father had brought him home six months ago when a little might have been enough, yet even as she thought it, she knew it wasn’t true. She wouldn’t have done it, couldn’t have. John Washington was too good, too kind, too caring. He deserved so much more than a little and she could never give him more.

She was better off with Jack Coogan, a fool who could be managed. He would get the social standing he longed for and she would get her hotel; a mating of mutual benefit in which she would never need to feel guilt for never giving her heart. She couldn’t as she no longer had one to give.

Her heart had already been taken by Challenger McCall. Listen to your wolf, the Mate had said, and she was right, but the Mate didn’t know that the new sheriff in town had plans to take her husband’s golden crown and ermine robe. And would surely die in the process.

Whatever the outcome, he could never be hers.

Her wolf snarled and snapped at her painful conclusion.

“Rachel, are you all right?” She felt John’s gentle hand on her shoulder
.

“No,” she choked, “I’m not all right.
” I’m going to be mated to one man while I’m in love with another. One who can never be mine.

“What can I do to make it better?”

She didn’t want to cry again and make a fool of herself, but when he pulled her to his chest and held her, not as McCall had held her, but as a friend, she couldn’t hold the tears back.

“Can you cure a foolish heart?
” she asked. “Can you turn back time and make my wolf go back to sleep? Can you give me back my solitary and ignorant life?”

“What the fuck?
” Challenger McCall stood in the kitchen doorway. “I stop by to fetch Dog and help hang a few tablecloths and what do I find? Another goddamned guy makin’ whoopee in the kitchen. Just how many of these they’re-not-boyfriends do you have? ‘Cause right now it looks like I’m gonna need another damned copybook to keep track?”

At the sound of his voice, Rachel, pulled away from John’s comforting embrace and turned her back
to the new arrival. “Language, Mr. McCall, and keep your voice down. “What you saw wasn’t… It wasn’t like that.”

“It never is,” he said and shook his head in what was clearly exasperation, not anger
, “And if it was anyone else…” His tone changed to concern when Rachel turned and he saw her tear stained face. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

“
Nothing.”

“Fuck that,” he huffed,” “You’re not the blubbery type. Something’s wrong.”

“Mr. McCall! Please watch your language!” It was the best she could do to take the focus away from her blotchy face and red nose.

“Don’t try to change the subject. My language doesn’t make you cry.” He looked at John with raised eyebrows.

“I can assure you, it wasn’t
I
who made her cry.”

When McCall looked at her again, with a bit more suspicion, she knew he’d caught John’s subtle hint.

“Goddammit…” he began.

It was the dog who did what she could not.

The shepherd, who’d been sleeping for hours in the corner of the kitchen, struggled to its feet when it saw McCall. It thumped its tail once, then ears erect and twitching, it looked from McCall to Rachel. Decision made, the dog shuffled over and positioned itself protectively between her and the men.

“Come here, boy.” McCall curled his fingers to beckon the dog.

There was no hesitation in the dog’s response to the command. It took another few steps, sat, and leaned against Rachel’s leg. Attention was now clearly on the dog as it gazed up at her with adoring eyes.

“Traitor.
” McCall curled his lip at the dog.

The dog
curled its lip back, not viciously, but enough to make its point. And then it wagged its tail.

“It’s all right, Arthur.” Rachel
cooed and scratched behind the dog’s ears. “Bad words can’t hurt me.”

McCall clenched his teeth, whether at the shepherd’s behavior or at the name, Rachel wasn’t su
re.

“Arthur?” he clarified
for her. “I distinctly remember having this conversation before and I thought I made myself perfectly clear. His name is not Arthur!”

“
Yes, it is,” she said stubbornly. “Gawain is too hard to say and Galahad or Lancelot are too long,” she argued back, not caring how ridiculous she sounded. “And I never liked Lancelot anyway. His name is Arthur and he likes it.”

McCall gritted his teeth. “I won’t have a dog named Arthur.”

Washington laughed. “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem. He’s not your dog anymore.
He
knows where he belongs.”

“And
you
are going to look fucking stupid as a toothless wolf,” McCall threatened.

“Mr. McCall!”

“I know, I know. Language.” McCall appealed to the schoolmaster. “She stole my dog,” he said as if that was a legitimate excuse for his foul tongue.

“She’s stolen a lot more than that,” Washington replied cryptically, which earned him another scowl from McCall. “How was Court?”

“A joke. No grievances, but plenty of fines, including Maudie Cove who got five hundred dollars’ worth for disturbing the peace.”

“You said you wouldn’t arrest her,” Rachel accused, her own troubles set aside at what would amount to disaster for the washerwoman. “She’ll never be able to pay it.”

“I didn’t. Your buddy Holt did, and I got nailed for two hundred and a reprimand for dereliction of duty, although I’m not sure if that was for Maudie or for the hundred they fined me for painting your rooms.”

“Painting is illegal?
” she asked, her bafflement plain, “Did they fine John?”

McCall blinked at her use of the name, but chose to ignore it.
“Nope. School was out for the day. I, on the other hand, am apparently on duty twenty-four seven.” He grinned. “I asked the Alpha when I was supposed to do my laundry.”

“You didn’t!”

Washington snorted a laugh. “Did he answer?”

“No, his Second did. He said I should bring it to Maudie, since she needed the money.”
He used Rachel’s glass to pour himself a drink from the bottle on the table. “I got my payback when I called the Alpha’s son to appear before the Court.”