Chapter Three
Rhetta had lived in the Senora Valley her whole life. She often went into the town to care for and train the dogs of the human settlement that lived there before the time that there was a vet in town. Shifters felt no need to bring wild animals into their homes as pets. The only animals that came into the house went into the kitchen and were fried up with some seasoning.
Humans steadily made their way into the Senora Valley over the last few years. They brought leashed animals with them and needed help caring for their domesticated pets. When Jordan Garcia set up his veterinary clinic two years ago, Rhetta began working with him during the days on a consultant basis. And then, as she got to know him more, she began seeing him during the nights on a social basis.
The Chop Shop had been around only slightly longer. Because this had been mostly wolf country for so long, there hadn’t been a need for a butcher either. Not until humans moved in and needed help carving out the choice cuts of their meats.
Rhetta had passed by the butchery shop many times, but having grown up on a farm, she’d had no occasion to go inside. Especially not when she’d seen all the human women, dressed as if they were going to a Moon Festival at the end of the day, lined up outside its doors. Now inside the shop for the first time, she saw the reason why.
Through the glass partition that separated the customers from the meat carcasses, Rhetta saw a prime spectacle of a male wolf with a butcher’s knife in his hands. The male was impressive, she had to admit. But not to her taste.
His features were too chiseled. His cruel lips, even as he worked, seemed to naturally gravitate into a self-righteous smirk. As though he knew the women were watching him. As though he knew that he had their attention, but he didn’t deign to give them any in return.
Cocky bastard.
Rhetta couldn’t abide men like that. No wonder Jordan had never told her of his brother. Clearly, he was ashamed.
Rhetta’s own dearly departed husband had been a handsome man. He’d caught many a female eye, but he’d only had eyes for one woman. Unfortunately, that woman hadn’t been Rhetta.
But Moriah, the love of her husband’s life, had rejected him. Instead, Moriah had followed her purse strings and mated the richest guy in town. Rhetta had been there to pick up Charles afterward. He’d asked for her hand when he realized he couldn’t live without her, but he’d never looked at her the same way he’d mooned over Moriah.
Charles had died with Moriah’s name on his lips. Rhetta didn’t bemoan that fact. She’d known what she was doing marrying a man that would never love her as much as she’d loved him. But he’d been her only option at the time.
She’d been in front of every wolf in the valley and not one of them had latched onto her in the way that a fated mate would. So, she’d done the practical thing in marrying someone who may not have loved her but definitely needed her. Just like she was now doing with Jordan.
Her attention turned back to Jordan’s brother. Well, no time like the present to get this over with. She had to be home in a few hours to tell her family of her news.
She’d stayed away from home all day trying to figure out the best way to tell them she was engaged. She knew they would not be thrilled. Just as she knew that Jordan’s brother would also not be thrilled about their impending nuptials. But Rhetta preferred to practice on him first, then the pack of wolves waiting for her at her own doorstep.
As she went back to approach the alpha-hole, she was stopped by a small woman.
“I’m here to see Mr. Garcia,” Rhetta said as she stepped around the woman.
Apparently, the woman made up for with quickness what she lacked in height. She quickly rounded Rhetta and placed her body between Rhetta and the man in question.
“You need to order off the menu,” she said.
Rhetta spared her a glance. She looked over her shoulder at the women lined up. All their eyes were on the butcher. Rhetta looked again at the small, birdlike woman who blocked her path. Then she looked at the butcher in the back who ignored them all.
A normal male wolf, an unmated male wolf, would preen under such attention. Because the butcher didn’t, Rhetta assumed he was likely already mated. It could be to this owlish woman perched below her. Even though wolves mated for life, both the males and females could still experience jealousy. Rhetta had her parents as an example.
“I’m not placing an order,” Rhetta said. “I have business to attend to with Mr. Garcia.”
“Then you can pick up your business with me. I’m Mr. Garcia’s assistant.”
The woman said the word assistant as though it held some importance. Rhetta noted the woman didn’t say the word mate. Rhetta could tell that this woman meant nothing to that man. Just as she could tell that none of the women standing in line eager for a sliver of his attention meant anything to him. She felt sorry for the girl, but she had a promise to keep.
Rhetta took another step around the girl and made her way back into the room.
“You can’t do that,” the assistant insisted. “If you want to order something you talk to me. Only I talk to him.”
The man hacked into the carcass, spraying blood up onto his apron. Some spurted down to the ground near Rhetta’s shoes. Jordan’s brother looked up from his carcass. He lifted an eyebrow as though he thought she’d be squeamish. He had another thing coming. She took a look at the carcass. She’d seen far worse than the inside of an animal’s body.
“Are you Rory?” she asked.
He didn’t respond. He raised that eyebrow even higher.
Rhetta held onto her own sneer. She wasn’t here to make an enemy of this man. She wanted to get him to come to the wedding as her soon-to-be husband hoped she could do. So, she walked up to the man and extended her hand, knowing clearly that if he offered her his, it would be bloody.
It seemed like a fair exchange since they were soon to be family. Plus, Rhetta had grown up on a farm. She had been up to her eyeballs in guts.
“My name is Rhetta. I’m your brother’s fiancée.”
He looked at her hand as though it were a snake ready to bite him. “You tell me that my brother has a fiancée?” His knife clattered to the ground as though to punctuate the end of his sentence.
“I just told you,” Rhetta said. “That’s what I am.”
He laughed, but it was something sinister. He picked up a cleaver. “My brother has a fiancée.” Chop. “That’s just great.” Chop.
“Listen, can we go somewhere to talk?”
He glanced up at her. His eyes pierced her to her very soul. For the first time since she stepped into the shop, Rhetta decided it might be best to take a step back.
“Talk?” Chop. “What do we have to talk about?” Chop. “Maybe you want to talk about the fact that my brother is the reason that I’m half a man now?”
Rhetta looked him up and down. She had no idea what he meant. He looked like more than enough man for anyone to handle. His voice was deep, more like the growl of a wolf when he scented prey and was preparing to strike.
Rhetta knew she should be cowed, but she wasn’t. She was raised by two alphas. Both her parents had the trait, and in the end, it was her mother who could twist her father’s ruff with a mere tweak of her claws.
“I only have one leg,” Rory growled, stepping around the table. His body weight heavily favored one side.
Rhetta couldn’t help but look down his long and lean body. It was mostly covered by the apron with slivers of white in between the splotches of blood. At the bottom of the apron, she saw two legs there. Though one seemed stiffer than the other. Then he reached for his cane.
Jordan had said nothing about an injury. Though watching the big man walk toward her with a slight limp, Rhetta didn’t feel as though she was in the presence of a wounded animal. She felt as though she was in the presence of a caged beast ready to spring loose. She wanted to take another step back.
Instead, she held her ground. Wild animals, and male wolves could smell fear. Once the scent was on their tongue, they would never look at you as anything but prey.
“Or maybe you want to talk about the fact that it’s my brother’s fault that I lost my fiancée?”
Though his voice was deep and pitched with anger, Rhetta heard hurt there. It reminded her of a dog whose owners treated it badly. All the canine needed was a firm, sure hand to guide it and return it to a semblance of civility. Rhetta’s hand clenched and unclenched in front of her, but she didn’t reach out to this man.
“No, he didn’t tell me any of this,” she said. “He just asked me to come to you and—”
“Because he was afraid to do it himself,” Rory spat.
“He wants you to come to the wedding.”
Another of those dark laughs came from his barrel chest. “My brother, who has both his legs and now has his very own fiancée, whereas I no longer have one, wants me to attend his wedding?” Those rich eyes pinned her down once more. “That’s a laugh. Why aren’t you laughing?”
“Because I don’t find it funny. Listen, I don’t know what happened between you two—”
Rory spun; so fast Rhetta forgot he had a wound. “I lost my leg! I lost my fiancée. Jordan has his leg. Jordan has a fiancée. And you want me to come to my two-legged brother’s wedding to watch him marry his fiancée who didn’t reject him?”
“Yeah, that sounds about right.”
“Shelly.”
“Yes, Rory?” said the birdlike assistant.
The woman unfolded herself from the shadows. Rhetta had forgotten she was even there. On the other side of the divider, every customer’s eyes were fixed on the back of the room.
“Shelly, go get me my father’s cleaver,” said Rory. “I’m gonna cut my throat.”
“No, Rory,” wailed Shelly. “I won’t do it.”
“She won’t do it.” Rory chuckled as he looked at her. Then he turned his attention back to Rhetta. “My brother takes my life. His fiancée comes to rub it in my face. And my assistant won’t give me my death.”
“You know,” said Rhetta. “I didn’t come to upset you. Maybe I should come back another time.”
“Do you know about me?” He used his free hand to indicate his wounded leg.
Rhetta frowned as she looked down at his foot. She couldn’t see the injury. It looked like a normal leg and foot covered with pants and a shoe.
“I’ve gone hunting with my father since I could walk. Learned to track and skin a deer before I hit puberty. Jordan’s my father’s child by a second mating. Our father passed away when Jordan was still young. But I decided to be a good big brother and teach Jordan to be a man.”
Rory laughed. The sound made a shiver claw between Rhetta’s shoulder blades.
“Jordan hated hunting,” Rory continued. “Hates the outdoors. Will only wield a knife if it’s in a sterile environment and the animal is on his surgical table. When he kills, it's with drugs and not his bare claws.”
“He doesn’t have claws,” said Rhetta. “He’s not a wolf.”
“You think that’s an excuse?” Rory shouted. “Every man should be able to hunt and provide for his family. But he was crap at tracking. He jumped at every branch that broke. So, I gave him the simplest task on our trip; to set the trap. But he couldn’t even manage that.”
The temperature in the room felt like it dropped and a chill slid down Rhetta’s spine.
“Something spooked him in the woods,” Rory said. “I went to him, to make sure he was okay, and I stepped into the trap.”
“Oh, my God,” said Rhetta. “I’m so sorry. But you have to see he didn’t do it on purpose.”
“Doesn’t matter,” said Rory. “It’s done. And now I have no life. Jordan took my life from me. There’s bad blood between us. My blood.”
Rory turned and headed up a hallway. Effectively ending the conversation. Too bad for him he didn’t know Rhetta very well. The conversation wasn’t over until she said it was over. She followed him up the stairs.