Wolver's Gold (The Wolvers) (37 page)

The Alpha did not shift, but the men around him did and the ensuing battle was vicious and bloody. With a renewed sense of pack and pride, the wolvers of Gold Gulch turned on those who would have stripped their birthright from them, leaving them as nothing more than dogs bred to serve their masters.

Taking their cue from their Alpha, Fillmore and Samuel remained as men, but unlike their Alpha, they did not stand their ground. They backed away from the fighting and inched their way to the side of the church in an effort to make their escape unnoticed. Their efforts failed. Rounding the side of the building on a sigh of success and relief, the two were confronted by a mighty black wolf. In a flash of light, the wolf transformed into John Washington.

“Not leaving so soon, are you, gentlemen?”

“This isn’t our fight, Schoolmaster,” Fillmore blustered, “We had nothing to do with what went on inside.”

“We were here to offer business advice, nothing more.” Samuel took two steps back,
clearly shaken and ready to flee. He turned and stumbled headlong into the broad, brown chest of Achilles Marbank who met him with enough force to set Samuel on his substantial rear.

“My apologies, man, I didn’t see you there. Here, let me help you up
.”

Marbank extended a hand
and, looming over Samuel, gave the merchant little choice. Once the man was in his grasp, Marbank turned him and slipped a loop of cotton cord around his wrists. By the time he’d finished the job, Washington had the Municipal Manager trussed much the same way.

“Let’s put them in a pew where they can contemplate their sins,” Washington suggested.

“And contemplate their just reward.”

Rachel was only marginally aware of what was happening around her
. Her eyes were glued to McCall. Her excitement in the realization that he could and would be hers was tempered with the thought that as quick as happiness was found, it could be lost again.

She watched the two
massive wolves battle it out. Leaping, slashing, turning and tackling, the two were evenly matched and Rachel worried that the ruthlessness of the Second might win out. Her wolf was enraged at her inability to join the fight. She wouldn’t listen when Rachel tried to explain. All the she-wolf felt was battling wolves around her and she wanted to be part of it.

The ring of watchers, both in wolf and human form, moved to and fro with the canine combat, pushing Rachel aside and blocking her view. The crowd leapt back as the combatants leapt apart and tightened the circle when they clashed together, fangs bared and claws at the ready to kick and gouge. They came together in a particularly vicious
engagement of snapping and snarling, blood and saliva flew, spattering some of the watchers. The watching wolves howled and snapped, sometimes at each other, excited by the smell of blood. Now on the edge of the milling crowd she could see nothing and could only hear the howls and growls and cries of the crowd.

Running to the monument from which John had
leapt, Rachel offered a quick apology to the Founding Family Lode, before climbing atop with a helpful boost from Cassie. She returned the favor and offered her hand to pull the young woman up.

More wolvers skirmished behind them, singular battles of old grievances and new, but Rachel gave them no thought. McCall was her only concern.

The view from above was better, but told her no more about who was winning. It was only the occasional glint of silver coat in the moonlight that told her which was her mate. Both combatants were covered in blood and spittle and dirt.

“McCall, he’s not the Alpha. He’s my mate,” Rachel yelled over the din.
Her head was bobbing and weaving with the action below.

“I never thought he was going to be Alpha,” Cassie called back and
it said much for the girl when she didn’t laugh. “No one did. Haven’t you been listening to John Washington? McCall has been yours since the first day he came. He watches you. He asks about you,” and here a small giggle escaped, “And he glares at any male who mentions your name, even Achilles when he asked if your temper was as fiery as your hair.”

“Oh, God, no!”
Rachel cried as Holt’s bloody fang opened a gash at McCall’s shoulder. “Yes,” she cried a moment later when blood streamed from Holt’s flank.

By the sound of the cheers and howls, Rachel knew the majority of the watchers were clearly on McCall’s side and her heart swelled with pride.
Maybe he couldn’t sway people with eloquent speech, but he stood for the Law and for pack.

Some of the louder support came from some who earlier appeared to stand with Holt. Rachel found herself growing angrier and angrier with those who so easily switched sides. How much, after all, was such loyalty worth. Her own fear for McCall showed her the unfairness of her leap to judgment.

Fear was a powerful weapon and the tendrils of Holt’s evil ran deep. If not for her father’s last minute show of courage, she too, would have succumbed to Holt’s hold. What of those who felt as helpless as she had? What way would they turn with no one to stand for them? What would they do without pack?

Some would go about their daily lives in the hopeless belief that this was how it must be. The instinct for survival would tell the weaker among them to seek shelter in the shadow of those who held power, no matter how corrupt that power might be. They would place themselves in the hands of the victor and hope they survived. That they saw McCall as the victor gave Rachel hope.

The two wolves, brown and silver, locked together, neck to neck, chest to chest, driving into each other with the force of their hind legs. Neither could use the knife-like sharpness of his teeth or the bone crushing pressure of his jaws without giving way and thus giving advantage to the other. Both were reaching the point of exhaustion. Neither could afford to yield. This was a fight to the death.

They rose on hind legs, towering over the watchers, moving like dancers locked in an angry embrace. Sudd
enly, McCall’s legs collapsed beneath him. He staggered and fell to his back with his throat exposed. A cry went up as Holt lunged down and disappeared as the crowd close in. Rachel couldn’t see.

“Challenger,” she whisper
ed like a last desperate prayer. She bit down on her knuckle to keep from crying out. Cassie gripped her shoulder.

Like a volcano erupting from the center of the crowd, the two wolves soared upward in a ball of screaming fury. McCall’s bloody muzzle gripped Holt’s throat as his hind legs ripped into the brown wolf’s belly. The two fell back into the crowd in a spray of blood.

Heedless of her skirts rising to her thighs, Rachel slid over the edge of the monument. She heard Cassie’s shout of warning and looked up in time to see the Alpha, Sterling Hoffman, attack the Mate, his face filled with a maniacal rage. His hands gripped her throat and he shook her like a rag doll.

“This is your fault! The gold, the boy, the loss of the mantle,” he screamed. “We needed time, time! You took it away.”

A pulse of power so strong it silenced the pack soared over the churchyard fence in the form of a great black wolf. In a mid-leap explosion of light, John Washington shifted to man. He hit Sterling Hoffman with the full force of his body. The Alpha screamed in rage. The Mate fell to the ground, gripping her throat and gasping for air. The men rolled together over the gravel that paved the street and broke apart. Curled in a fetal ball, the Mate gripped her middle and screamed in agony. Only John Washington arose to his feet...

...and by some unseen force was imme
diately driven back to one knee in the light of the setting moon. His back arched, his head snapped back, and his arms flew out to the sides like a supplicant welcoming death. No one moved as his howl of pain and glory echoed through the night.

He collapsed, still on bended knee, head falling forward as if death had truly come. A moment passed and another
and Achilles Marbank took one step forward to offer aid.

“No
!” In the eerie silence, McCall’s raspy whisper was as loud as a shout. “Leave him.”

With a choking gulp of air, John’s body was called back from the dead with a series of tremors and then his head snapped up and
he rose to his feet with his arms reaching to the sky and the moon. The churchyard was filled with an outpouring of power the old ones remembered and the young had never seen.

There was no f
ormal Challenge, but there was no doubt the mantle had fallen on new shoulders.

One by one, the wolvers of Gold Gulch welcomed their new Alpha.

Chapter 37

“You almost got yourself killed back there.”

“Come on, Red, have a little faith in me. It was just a fight. It’s over. I won.”

He sm
iled, but it wasn’t his teasing smile, or his smile of boyish mischief, or the way he smiled at some silent off-color thought. This was a predator’s smile, filled with cunning and the rawness of the amoral creature that lived inside them all. It should have frightened her, this feral display. Instead, it sent a trembling of excitement through her body.

She shook her shoulders and looked away. He’d lulled her into forgetting what she meant to say.

“What did you win if you’re not staying in Gold Gulch?”

“Another night in bed with you?”
He held the door for her with his foot, while he unbuttoned his bloody shirt. He threw it in the open washer as he passed.

“I’m serious!”

“So am I.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her to him. “It’s the full moon. We’ve won the war and I’m hornier than hell.”

She wasn’t going to look at the broad, square muscles that formed his chest
, now scored with lines made by Holt’s claws. She refused to think about the rolling muscles beneath those squares that ran down over his stomach where a gash that would need stitching was bandaged with gauze from the General Store. Of his half dozen wounds, none were lethal, but several of them could have been. As a precaution, she moved away, closed her eyes, and drew in her breath.

Closing her eyes had been a mistake. She didn’t hear him move, didn’t feel his nearness until she heard his intake of breath as his nose ran over her hair.

She sighed and her body, led by her overly enthusiastic wolf, leaned into him. She caught herself just in time.

“No!” Rachel slapped at his chest. “I don’t care how...how...
”

“
Horny,” he laughed.

“Whatever you are.
No nookie until I get answers, Mr. McCall.”

Someone in the kitchen started to laugh. It wasn’t a laugh Rachel was familiar with.

“And here I always thought you were such a player.”

“Shit,” McCall muttered
and then in a friendlier tone. “What brings you here, Eugene?”

“Well, ain’t that a fine howdy-do for your boss.”

Boss? The little wolver, who’d polished off half an apple pie at her kitchen table was dressed in an electric blue, western style shirt with snow white fringe decorating the yoke. His silver belt buckle, embossed with a rodeo cowboy atop a bucking bronco, must have weighed two pounds. It matched the shiny silver snaps that ran down the front of his shirt. The ten gallon hat sitting on the table made her cover her mouth to keep from laughing.

He
stood and held out his hand to Rachel. “Eugene Begley, at your service Miss Kincaid. I’ve come to wish you well on your mating and meet your new Alpha.”

Rachel had a mate. The way her wolf reacted every time McCall was near assured her of that, but he’d never said a word about making it official.
She decided to let the comment pass.

She
took the offered hand, feeling a tingle of power as she did, as if what power the little man contained was spilling over.

“I’m
very pleased to meet you, Mr. Begley. Would you like some coffee with your pie? Or how about some breakfast? It’s almost dawn. There’s really no point in going to bed,” she added with a meaningful glance at McCall. “The day’s begun and as you can see, Mr. McCall needs some stitching.”

“I don’t need stitching. I need...”

“Breakfast. You need breakfast,” Rachel said firmly.

Gold Gulch would be closed for the next two days. John had sent Achilles and Cassie, in McCall’s borrowed truck, to drape the signs with black bunting and put up the notices. Bertie and Liddy were sent home with the Mate to offer what comfort they could. Lenora may not have loved her Alpha, but as John predicted, the breaking of the bond had been physically devastating.
The whole town needed time to adjust, but two days was all that could be spared. Life went on and they needed the tourist’s money more than ever.

Still wearing her borrowed costume, Rachel started the coffee. “When Eustace gets here, he can fetch your things from the General Store and we’ll take care of those wounds.”

“I think he’s over at the saloon with your father,” McCall said grumpily.

Rachel laughed to herself. The poor man had counted on having the empty hotel all to
themselves.

“Sit down, Mr. McCall, and keep your boss company, while
I go change and then...” She paused and gave him another significant look. “Maybe your boss can answer a few of the questions you won’t.”

Rachel knew it was rude, but she changed her clothes in her sitting room, right next to the door she’d left slightly ajar so she could eavesdrop. One way or another, she would learn more of
Challenger McCall.

“She saw me go over the moon with
out an Alpha,” she heard McCall say. “She saw Arthur go over, too, and now she wants to know how.”

Rachel almost gave herself away with a giggle when he used the dog’s name.

“Arthur?”

“Dog,” McCall corrected, but it was too late.

“So she thinks you’re a king, hey boy?” Begley chuckled. “Well, I suppose she may be right. A king among dogs. Why didn’t you tell her? You know she won’t let it go.”

“They’re your rules not mine.”

“Those rules are for the general population. They don’t apply to mates.”

“And that’s another thing,” McCall groused. “
It would be nice if you let me ask her before you offered your congratulations. And how the hell did you know anyway? I didn’t even know until that bastard had me by the throat and I thought about all I was about to lose.” He snarled a little, proving his wolf was still close to the surface. “I was going to ask this morning while we were all comfy-cozy, but you showing up pretty much screwed the pooch on that one.”

Rachel’s feet were doing a little jig beneath her skirts and her wolf was chasing its tail for the fun of it.

“It’s not like it’s too late,” Mr. Begley laughed. “How do they say it around here? Quit beatin’ the devil around the stump, boy, and ask the girl.”

“Ask
the girl what?” she tried to ask casually as she danced from her room.

McCall shook his head and sighed. “If you really meant it when
you said you’d give all this up. If you’re willing to live your life on the road, never staying in one place long enough to call it home.” He waved his hand over his body to indicate the scars and fresh wounds. “If you’re willing to watch as I get the shit kicked out of me on a regular basis. If you’re willing to spend more of your time with the Holts of our world than the Washingtons.” He sounded so bitter and angry.

Rachel’s feet stopped dancing. “If that’s what you really want, then yes Mr. McCall, I’m willing. I meant what I said. I would do anything to spend my life with you.”

“Good girl.” Mr. Begley slapped the table with his hands and stood. “Fortunately, you won’t have to. Challenger McCall, I release you from my service and my pack.” He withdrew a crumpled piece of butcher paper from his pocket. “I put it in writing while I was enjoying my pie.”

McCall looked s
hocked. “Eugene, no. This is my job. It’s what I was meant to do. It’s my calling.”

“Your new Alpha is an idealist who’s going to need a strong Second to occasionally enforce those wolver ideals. That’s your calling, always has been. You were meant to uphold the Law and you can do that right here, in a place where you fit, in a place where you’re needed.” Begley looked over at Rachel and smiled.
“In a place where you’re loved.” He brushed some nonexistent dust from his immaculate sleeve. “And now I think I’ll mosey on down to that saloon you mentioned and see what your new Alpha is up to. I’ll leave you two to get all comfy-cozy and make your plans for the future.”

The door between kitchen and dining room was still swinging on its hinges when McCall swept
Rachel off her feet and whirled her about the room.

“Your wounds!” she cried, but heaven forgive her, she laughed while she cried it.

“Don’t need stitching, damnit!” He was laughing, too. He stopped and set her down. “I would have done it, Red, and I would have taken you with me, hoping you would help me see what I used to when I was young.”

“You’re not old, Mr. McCall.” She put her hands to his cheeks and looked into eyes that suddenly did look old. “And neither am I.”

“I know, and that’s what I kept telling myself, but I felt it and I felt it more with every assignment.” He told her about his job, some of what he did, and how he did it. “It wears on you after a while, always looking at the bad, never having a chance to enjoy the good you leave behind. Eugene Begley is our Alpha, but it’s not a real pack. We run together when the moon is full and if we’re in the area, but it’s not the same. There are no women to come home to, no cubs to get in your hair, no one there to make me laugh like you do. There aren’t many of us and it’s not a job that anyone can do.”

“You have to be an Alpha to do it,” Rachel said, beginning to understand.

McCall smiled at that. “A pack of Alphas. Wouldn’t that be the shit? No, Red, I hold enough power to wear the mantle, but the mantle will never fall on my shoulders. That’s why I left my pack. The things I did that drove them crazy also proved I wasn’t a follower. They wanted me to be something I knew I wasn’t cut out for. That girl I told you about? She was an Alpha’s daughter, chosen just for me. Like I said, I’d be lousy at it and there are too many lousy Alphas as it is. I was ready to go rogue when Begley picked me up and put me to work. He taught me how to tap some of that power, but it’s nothing like what comes with the mantle.”

“
So I wasn’t too far off when I thought you were to be the new Alpha of Gold Gulch,” she said. She’d recognized his potential. “And Arthur?” she asked, now that he was finally being generous with the information.

“Beats the hell out of me,” he laughed. “I picked him up off the road when he was a pup. He’d been hit by a car and after I nursed him back to health, he stuck to me like glue. I never trained him. He just seemed to understand what I wanted.
Then one night when he was right next to me when I shifted, he shifted, too. Shocked the hell out of me. Him, too. Eugene thinks he might be some kind of cross between a wolver who went feral and a dog. Who knows? It’s as good a theory as any.”

“So he’s special
. Like you,” Rachel purred, running her fingers over his chest. “Are you sure you don’t need stitching?”

“
I’m fine, but I could use a bath,” he said and the mischievous grin was back, “And you could kiss my boo-boos and make them all better.”

“Oh, I think I can do better than that,” she laughed.

It was a weekend to remember; a murder, a new Alpha, a funeral, and a mating. While the mating would always be special to Rachel and McCall, it was the funeral Gold Gulch would always remember.

They buried Sterling Hoffman and Barnabas Holt, along with the hapless Jack Coogan, in a short ceremony that few attended. Jack Coogan was Rachel’s reason for going. His parents and his sister were there and she wanted them to know that he’d died trying to save her from Holt. She didn’t tell them the whole truth, though she got the feeling his father knew. His mother and sister took comfort in thinking their beloved Jack died a hero.

While John Washington spoke a few solemn words over the other two graves, Rachel’s attention wandered over the simple churchyard to the graves of those who’d come before.
There were six larger monuments honoring those who had founded the town of Prosperity that later became Gold Gulch. They were all erected during Gold Gulch’s heyday when there was plenty of money for such extravagances. Her family’s was among them. “Founded in Love” the inscription read. The other inscriptions were similarly sentimental until she came to the one John Washington had stood upon to make his speech and from which she’d watched McCall’s battle. The monument was proof that Eustace’s sense of humor was an inherited trait and she smiled at the play on words; “The First Lode.”

These monuments had been there for
years, so long in fact, that no one paid them any attention.

“Holy shit,” she whispered as everyone else said “Amen”.

Rachel grabbed the shovel meant for filling the graves and started to dig. McCall took the shovel from her hands and continued the job.

News passed like lightning as news always does.
Wolvers with shovels and spades showed up, followed by women with food. Someone brought out a guitar, someone else a banjo and before anyone knew what was happening, there was a party among the headstones and wooden crosses in the churchyard.

“Reminds me of how things used to be,” Cora James, one of the oldest pack members reminisced. “Any excuse for a party. O’course
, I disremember having one in the bone yard, but I don’t suppose the dead will mind. They’ll be happy to see us smiling again,” she added through her toothless grin.