Jaemus grabbed a handful of soil in this new forest surrounding him. Night still reigned, but the sounds were all different from where he’d been. Cricket song replaced the twitterings of the brightly colored birds of the tropical isle he’d been surviving on for the past few weeks. Tall pines and maples ruled the land instead of the odd, feather-leafed trees that rustled in the hot breezes. The cooler air here was scented with damp dirt and wildflowers.

Where am I now?

And what was Flidae up to? Why had she moved him? Had he been surviving too well on that island? Was he not being sufficiently punished in the goddess’s mind? He didn’t love that island, but he’d had enough time there to figure it out and stay alive.

Now he was back to the beginning in an unknown place with unknown resources and unknown dangers. Would she keep switching his location as further punishment?

And, by the gods, why am I bleeding?

He touched the scratches on his bare arms and legs then squinted up. Several branches on the nearby trees had been snapped. Perhaps broken when his body had screamed from the sky and landed on the moist forest floor. He turned to sit and brushed dirt off his knees which, due to his nakedness, were also gouged and bleeding.

At least he’d learned on the island that he did have the healing abilities of a werewolf. He just hadn’t been patient that first night. The cut he’d received on his cheek while the sea had battered him had healed. He ran a finger over the area now, feeling the scar that would forever cut through any beard he grew. He had no idea how bad it looked, but what did it matter anyway? He wasn’t trying to impress anyone.

Well, except Flidae maybe so she’d release him from this punishment.

What you look like will not release you, warrior wolf.

He was beginning to hate these conversations. Especially when she called him a wolf. Gods be damned, he was a man first.

But you are not only a man now.

As if he needed the reminder.

Voices floated to his ears in the darkness. Two voices. A man’s and a woman’s. At first Jaemus thought they were the voices of more gods or goddesses, but no, these voices were not inside his head.

Praise be! There were people here. Jaemus had to make contact with these people. Implore them for some help. Beg if he had to. His pride had been taken the moment Reardon turned him into an animal. He had nothing left to lose.

Slowly, Jaemus got to his feet and walked toward a light that shone on a building nearby. As he approached, the people’s voices got louder.

“You know the best way to celebrate freedom on the Fourth of July?” the woman asked.

The man didn’t reply verbally, but Jaemus was close enough now to see the man shake his head as he held the woman close. So close. Jaemus hadn’t held a woman that close in too long. Possibly he’d never held a woman that close and meant it the way that man did.

“Exercising your right to kiss me all over and make love to me until the sun comes up.”

The man threw his head back and laughed. “I think I like this American holiday, my fairy lass.”

Jaemus stilled at the fringe of the forest. He knew that voice. He took a shaky step back, but the crunching of twigs and leaves beneath his bare feet made the man and woman turn to look in his direction.

“Probably one of the wolves,” the woman said. She was breathtaking with long red hair and blue eyes Jaemus could clearly see with his enhanced wolf vision.

The man started for the forest, so Jaemus stepped out first. “Reardon.” He took another step, but got tangled in the brush at his feet and tripped. He fell to all fours, cursing how weak he felt, how submissive he looked, basically kneeling before Reardon. That was the last thing he wanted to do.

“Jaemus?”

“Your brother?” the woman asked as she stood behind Reardon.

“Aye. It’s him.” Reardon straightened and scanned the area.

“She’s not here,” Jaemus croaked out. His throat was impossibly dry all of a sudden.

“But she sent you.” Smiling, Reardon reached out a hand to Jaemus. “Come inside, brother.”

Jaemus stared at Reardon’s outstretched hand. Part of him wanted to take it. Part of him wished for his older brother to care for and protect him as he had for most of Jaemus’s life.

Another part, however, wished for a blade to slice that offered hand right off the arm of the betrayer.

“You can have all the time you want to hate me, Jaemus,” Reardon said, his hand still outstretched, “but right now, you’re in tough shape, brother. This fairy lass beside me can fix you up, can’t you, Brandy?”

“Of course.” The woman smiled at him now, and Jaemus rather liked her smile.

He took Reardon’s hand and allowed his brother to pull him to his feet while the woman—Brandy—scooted under his left arm and Reardon supported under his right one. Slowly, the three of them made their way past the house to another building.

“What is this place?” Jaemus asked, hesitating. He didn’t know anything about this woman, and what he knew of his brother didn’t exactly encourage his trust.

“Silver Moon Wolf Sanctuary,” Brandy said. “I’m a wildlife biologist. I help injured wolves.” The way she said wolves and looked him directly in the eyes told Jaemus she knew what he and his brother were.

In fact…

Jaemus leaned closer to Brandy and inhaled deeply. She smelled… familiar.

“Yeah,” she said, sliding out from under his arm to open the door to the building in front of them. “I’m like you.”

Jaemus immediately shot his gaze to Reardon. “You turned her? You didn’t learn your lesson?”

“Oh, I learned it all right, but this is different.” Reardon glanced at Brandy and Jaemus could smell the arousal coming off both of them. It nearly overwhelmed him.

“I wanted him to turn me.” Brandy motioned them inside and Reardon guided him through the door to a large silver table.

“And Flidae let you?” Jaemus regarded Reardon. He found it hard to believe the goddess would allow such a thing. She’d been furious enough to scatter the men as punishment so why would turning this woman not further enrage her?

“She’s my soul mate.” Reardon slid an arm around Brandy and pulled her up against his side. He pressed his lips to her temple, nuzzling her hair with his nose.

Brandy closed her eyes and let out a rumbling growl that came from deep in her throat. There was no doubt that what they’d said was true. Soul mates. The scent in the air was more than enough proof of their bond.

“Even in punishment, you win, don’t you, Reardon?” Jaemus’s jaw clenched, his teeth grinding against each other.

“I fought for this win, brother, just like all our other victories.” Reardon folded his arms across his broad chest as if he were gearing up for a fight.

If only I had the strength. But Jaemus didn’t. The cuts all over his body stung, his muscles ached, his head pounded, and he was powerfully hungry.

“There’s a shower through there.” Brandy pointed to a narrow hallway. “Why don’t you clean up, Jaemus, and then I’ll see to these cuts, okay?”

“The cuts will heal,” he said, not tearing his gaze off his brother and silently challenging him to be the first to look away.

“True, but I can make it happen faster and less likely to scar with a little science,” Brandy said.

When Jaemus finally focused on Brandy, he asked, “What’s a shower?”

“Oh, umm… right.” She turned to face Reardon. “How did you know what a shower was when you first came here?”

“I spent enough time here as a wolf to see Parker use this one in the clinic.”

“I see. Amazing what you can learn just by watching.” Brandy chewed on her bottom lip as if she were studying Jaemus.

He didn’t like that. He wasn’t some menagerie oddity. Some strange and exotic beast.

I’m a man.

Flidae’s chuckle echoed in his skull. You’re more than a man.

And gods be damned, he didn’t want to be.

“Reardon, show him how the shower works while I prep out here.” She gave Reardon a little shove toward the hallway.

Jaemus found some amusement in watching this slender woman command his hulking brother. If that was what finding one’s soul mate meant, he was content to never find his. He once listened to the orders of his brother and that blind allegiance hadn’t rewarded him in the end. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. With anyone.

Still, if a shower meant getting clean, he was definitely interested. He’d bathed on the island in the sea, but he had never been quite rid of the grit. His wolf nose smelled his own stench as well, so he followed Reardon.

After sticking his hand behind a curtain, Reardon made water rain down from a silver spout stuck in the wall. Steam curled up from the spray.

“It’s hot?” Jaemus stepped closer.

“One of many conveniences this time and place has.” Reardon rested his hand on Jaemus’s shoulder, but Jaemus shrugged it off. His brother put his hands up in surrender and took a step back. “Towels are here.” He pointed to a stack of fluffy, folded pieces of fabric then left the room.

Jaemus stepped into the big white basin that caught the water and let out a groan when the liquid heat hit his skin. He stuck his head under the spray, dirt and blood immediately collecting at his feet. It mixed with the water then swirled down a grate in the basin. He had no idea where it was all going, but getting it off him felt wonderful.

A green bar sat on a small shelf and he picked it up. Finding it slick but pleasing in fragrance, Jaemus rubbed it along his flesh until suds built up and removed the grime covering him. As a warrior, he’d spent a great deal of time dirty, bloody, and sweaty, but they’d always found somewhere to bathe. His time on the island had been the longest he’d gone without a proper rinsing, and he’d forgotten how wonderful it was to be clean.

He washed his hair and spent a few moments letting the heat of the water—how did they get it hot like this?—massage his aching body. When his fingers wrinkled, he turned a knob on the wall and the water ceased to spray. Amazing.

After stepping out of the basin, he grabbed a towel and dried himself. He wrapped the towel around his waist and secured it, preparing to go back out to the larger room because he didn’t have any other course of action at the moment.

Jaemus made for the closed door, but something moving caught his attention on the wall. He backed up and realized his reflection stared back at him. He’d definitely seen better days. His hair was now clean but in complete disarray and a scraggly beard covered his lower face. His eyes were less golden brown and more bloodshot and that scar on his cheek was deeper than he’d envisioned.

He looked feral.

Flidae was right. He wasn’t only a man anymore. He was a wild animal too. Maybe more wild animal than man.

A soft knock on the door made him flinch.

“Jaemus.” Brandy’s voice. A quiet, kind voice. “Are you decent?”

Decent? Probably never again.

He reached over and opened the door to her smiling face. Gods, she was beautiful. Figures Reardon would find her. Lucky bastard.

“Well, clean looks good on you.” She pointed to his hair then his beard, circling her index finger around his head. “You want some help with all that? I’ve been known to do a damn fine job shaving wolf fur when necessary.”

He nodded, and she stepped farther into the small room. After rummaging around in a compartment under another white basin below where he’d seen his reflection, she held up a few tools and motioned for him to follow her out to the larger room. She patted a chair she’d pulled away from a table.

“Have a seat and let’s see what we can do here,” she said.

“Where’s Reardon?” Not that he wanted to see him. He most certainly didn’t care where his brother had gone. He just felt the need to keep track of Reardon’s whereabouts in case his brother intended to betray him again.

“He’s in the house with my son, Dylan. We were all at a Fourth of July event and my mom brought him back.”

“You trust my brother around your boy and your mother? That seems unwise.” Jaemus sat in the chair Brandy had offered and folded his arms across his chest.

“I trust Reardon with my life.” Brandy came to stand in front of him, and the truth of her words shined in her eyes. “He’s saved me on too many levels to count. I know what he did to you and some of the other men in your army. Believe me, Jaemus, he’s sorry. He carries that regret around like a sack full of boulders on his back. He’ll never forgive himself, but maybe you can forgive him. I mean, being a wolf rocks.”

He looked up at her face, her blue eyes glowing as her canine teeth elongated.

“You truly enjoy what he’s made you? How?”

Brandy’s eyes went back to their normal blue and her teeth shortened again. “Because being a wolf allows me to be closer to him and my wolves here at the sanctuary. I can care for everyone better. I can love Reardon better.”

Jaemus had trouble believing what she’d said, but the way she gave his bare shoulder a little squeeze told him she knew his inner struggle.

“Hopefully, someday you’ll know what I mean.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Let’s take care of these cuts first. They’ll heal on their own shortly, but cleaning them out makes them heal faster. Then we’ll make you pretty.”

As she tended to him, she told him how Reardon had shown up at her sanctuary as an injured wolf. How she and her son came to love him in wolf form. How Reardon, in human form, had saved her and her son from being smashed by an out-of-control car in town. How Flidae possessed a friend of hers, kidnapped Dylan, then took Reardon from them. How she traveled to Ireland of the past and won Reardon back along with Flidae’s blessing to be turned into a wolf.

How she planned to spend the rest of her life loving Reardon.

“We’re getting married in October. I hope you and Reardon can reconcile so he’ll have family at the wedding too. He’s missed you, Jaemus.” She pulled off a towel she’d draped on his shoulders while cutting his hair and shook it so blond strands fell to the floor. “I’m going to sweep this up. Why don’t you take these,” she handed him a stack of clothes, “and go back in the bathroom. Change up. Check yourself out. I think I did a pretty good job on you.”

She grinned and Jaemus decided even if he hated Reardon, he liked this woman who had chosen—recklessly—to love his brother.

He took the clothes and went into the bathroom. After pulling on a pair of stiff, dark blue pants and a soft, short-sleeved, green tunic, he sat on an odd seat made out of the same white material as the water basins and stuffed his feet into black boots that were a little big. All of the items probably belonged to Reardon, and Jaemus didn’t enjoy being encased in the trimmings of a traitor, but he had no other choice right now.

His reflection caught his attention again and his mouth dropped open. Brandy had cut his hair to a length that rested at chin level. She’d combed it into a sense of order and trimmed his beard so it neatly framed his mouth and jaw. He looked several shades more civilized thanks to her work. The scar on his cheek didn’t look as bad as it had before either, though it did cut into his beard, causing a line of no hair. Still, he was much improved and didn’t feel so wild anymore.

After inspecting the cleaned cuts and deeming them well attended to, he emerged from the bathroom to find Brandy still in the larger room. She had a broom in her hand, but rested it against a wall when she saw him.

“Does everything meet your approval?” she asked.

“Aye, thank you, Brandy.” He bowed his head slightly in gratitude.

“No problem.” The way she regarded him told Jaemus she had more to say.

“Out with it.”

“Oh, well… I was thinking that aside from being big and giving off that badass vibe, you don’t look like Reardon’s brother.”

Good. “We don’t share a father. Just a mother.”

“Right. He got the werewolf father.”

“And yet, I’ve suffered the same fate, haven’t I?”

“You can choose to see it as suffering or as an opportunity.” Brandy motioned for him to follow her.

Opportunity? Hardly. Love had blinded this woman. Jaemus hoped she didn’t get hurt by Reardon’s selfish ways. Once a ruthless warrior willing to sacrifice his men—his own brother—always a ruthless warrior.

She led him to a house made from fat logs. Lights glowed inside, giving off a warm, welcoming aura Jaemus didn’t want to be drawn to, but he was. For weeks, his shelter had been a loose collection of branches and ferns. This log home was a substantial improvement.

Before she opened the front door, she turned to Jaemus. “I know your last memory of Reardon is how he turned you and the other men, but he’s truly sorry, Jaemus. Truly. For whatever reason, Flidae has dumped you here. Take it as a gift and make amends.” She swallowed loudly, her blue eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I had a twin sister. She passed away and I’d give anything for another shot at talking to her, hearing her laugh, hugging her. Don’t throw this away.” She swiped at her eyes and sniffed before leading him inside.

Jaemus hesitated on the front step for a few moments. Brandy didn’t know what she was asking him to do. To forgive his brother for turning him into a werewolf. How could he forgive that?

How?

****

“How do you know Jared got arrested?” Nika opened her office door and reluctantly let Robert enter.

“I saw it happen with my own two eyes. I was across the street at the bank and watched two cops escort your Wolfman star into the police station.”

“That doesn’t mean he was arrested.” Please, God, don’t make that mean he was arrested. Jared was literally the best Wolfman the trading post had ever had. Without him, they would be bringing in no money at all. This can’t be happening.

“After I wrapped up my business at the bank, I went to the police station and confirmed that Jared Greene was arrested for making meth in his basement.” Robert had that damn smug look on his face and it took all of Nika’s control not to slug him. Hard.

“Meth?”

“The drug.”

“I know what meth is, you fool. I just don’t believe Jared was making it.” The Jared she knew was a pleasant guy, full of life, funny, always on time for work. Strangely unaffected by the stress of day-to-day living. Oddly at ease in all situations.

Shit. The guy was making meth.

“Think about it, Nika. The man is willing to put on a Wolfman costume and run about like a raving lunatic. Normal people don’t want to do that. People on meth do.” Robert sat on the little couch she had in the office.

For the record, Nika hated having Robert on that couch. Or anywhere near her for that matter. She actually preferred the company of a meth manufacturer over that of the greasy Robert Senclair.

And the fact that he’d been the one to discover Jared’s arrest just about made her frigging day.

With a sigh, she sat at her desk, fully intending to ignore Robert’s presence and hoping he’d leave. But when did things ever go her way?

“Without your Wolfman show, this trading post is toast, Nika.” He got up and sat at the chair on the other side of her desk, making it impossible for her not to notice the way his thinning brown hair looked too controlled. The way his brown eyes resembled the beady, sneaky eyes of a large rodent. The way his suit bulged in all the wrong places around his chubby middle.

“I’ll hire a new Wolfman.” She squared her shoulders. Surely other men were willing to play a half-man, half-wolf role in a silly tourist show. For minimum wage.

Yeah, right, that voice inside her head said. The one she couldn’t turn off no matter how hard she tried. Face it, you’re fucked. And totally not the way she wanted to be.

“Why don’t you give in?” Robert leaned forward. His teeth were yellow. She’d never noticed that before. Why was she noticing today? Because she was thinking about admitting defeat? Because she was out of options?

Because her life sucked ass?

“I’ll give you a job at Mr. Sprinkles Donut Shop. Manager. Good pay. Steady pay. Although…” He reached across the desk to take her hand, but she quickly moved it to her lap and he pulled his hand back to his side of the desk. “If you would agree to be with me, Nika, you wouldn’t have to work at all. I have a lot of money. You wouldn’t have to want for anything. I’d give you everything.”

Yeah, everything I never wanted.

“I’ll figure this out without your help, Robert.” Of course he wasn’t actually trying to help her. Instead he was adding to her existing, mountain-sized pile of problems. She stood and went to the office door, hoping he’d follow her. “Actually, if you want to help, there is one thing you can do.”

He stood and joined her by the door. Once again, he stood too close. “Name it.”

“Leave.” She opened the door and gestured for him to walk out.

Robert made a frustrated noise and sifted out a slow breath. One that smelled like hours-old coffee.

“You can’t hang on for much longer. I’ll be waiting.” He brushed past her, taking the opportunity to let his arm skim across her breasts.

Now I have to burn this tank top.

Zavier looked up from his perch at the register, his green eyes hawking Robert as he left the trading post. The teen’s gaze immediately flicked to the office where Nika rolled her eyes from her doorway.

“You okay, Boss?” he called.

“Never better.”

“Liar.”

“A big, fat one.” Nika made her way to the register. Not a single customer wandered the shop. What am I going to do? “Did you hear anything about Jared?”

“Hear? Jared? Uhh…” Suddenly Zavier opened his Canterbury Tales book and pretended to look real scholarly.

“Zavier.” Nika pulled his book down to the counter and put her hand over the pages. “Zavier, look at me.”

He tugged on his book, but she had a good grip on it. “Do I have to?” He stared at the book, not meeting her gaze.

“Yes.” She reached across the counter and lifted Zavier’s head with a finger under his chin. “What do you know about Jared?”

“Just that half the senior class gets their meth from him.”

“It’s true?” Letting go of Zavier’s book, Nika swiveled and sunk to the floor, her back sliding against the counter. She dropped her head to her knees, barely avoiding a full-blown panic attack. Her Wolfman was a drug manufacturer and dealer. Her trading post was going under. She would end up managing a Mr. Sprinkles Donut Shop.

Or worse. She’d end up being Mrs. Robert Senclair.

“Aww, hell no.” She needed time to think. “Let’s close now, Zavier.”

“But it’s not closing time yet.” He pointed to the clock hanging on the wall behind the register.

“Honey, we’re the only two in here. Everyone else is down at the new shopping plaza.” One owned by Robert Senclair. “They’re all spending their money on overpriced junk.”

“What are you going to do about Jared?” Zavier stuffed his book into his backpack. Even in the summer, the kid was busy with academic stuff. He wouldn’t end up owning an unsuccessful shop in the middle of Canville, Vermont. He’d make something of himself. Carrie often busted his balls about how into school he was, but Nika could tell the girl was actually impressed with Zavier’s intellect.

Now if only I could attract someone with some intellect. And killer abs. That wasn’t too much to ask for, was it? Intellect and abs. Small requests really.

But those requests would have to wait because she needed to focus her energy on replacing Jared and quick or she’d lose more money. Money she couldn’t afford to lose.

After saying goodbye to Zavier, Nika walked on the little trail that led to the barn behind the trading post. Tato had built that barn with his own two hands when he’d first come to America from Poland. He’d made friends with some local Native Americans who helped him, and together they built the trading post when the barn was done. The post sold Native American wares to start, but her father slowly added other vendors and made the place a booming tourist spot for every blue-collar dad who couldn’t afford to take his family to Disney World.

The Wolfman Show had always been their most famous attraction though. Even in the early years, people loved the alternative Red Riding Hood skit. The audience got a kick out of participating, saying the lines, My what big teeth you have, along with the actors and screaming when Wolfman ran wild in the crowd, pretending to look for a snack while the Huntsman took aim.

It was a silly show. Nika wasn’t sure what was so magical about it, but it was the only thing keeping the post afloat right now. If she couldn’t replace Jared, and fast, she’d have no choice but to sell the post to Robert. She’d have to move out of the loft apartment in the barn—the barn that made her feel close to Tato even though he was gone.

She unlocked the small side door on the barn and climbed the narrow staircase up to the loft apartment. The smell of old wood always comforted her, but it wasn’t doing the job tonight. Her mind was too heavy to be consoled by memories. Tonight the odor in the barn made her think of rotting, decrepit things. Dead things. Things that needed attention and repair and money.

Barking from the other side of the apartment door made her smile. Daisy, her chocolate Labrador Retriever, had a way of loosening the tension in Nika’s shoulders no matter what.

A massage by someone with intellect and abs would do the trick too. The chances of that waiting for her on the other side of the door, however, were zero.

When she opened the door, Daisy was right there, her tail wagging like a helicopter blade stuck to her ass. Her tongue flopped out of her mouth and her front paws danced on the wide-planked floor.

“Hey, Daisy-girl. Who’s Mama’s baby? Are you Mama’s baby?” Nika dropped to her knees and let the dog christen her face with slobbery kisses. “Oh, I love you too. Yes, I do.” She took a floppy ear in each hand and rubbed until Daisy was a melted pile of chocolate-colored fur at her knees.

When the excitement over her arrival at home died away, Nika and Daisy went into the kitchen where Nika filled the dog’s food and water bowls.

“That takes care of you.” She opened her refrigerator which was full of… pretty much nothing. “Yogurt and American cheese. Ah, food of the gods, Daisy.” She eyed the dog’s kibble. “Don’t suppose you’re willing to share your dinner, are you, girl?” God, she was actually considering eating dog food. What the hell?

She rustled up some stale crackers from a cupboard and poured herself a tall glass of tap water. Sighing often, she ate at the small kitchen table—also made by Tato—trying to convince herself she was eating a loaded pizza and French fries from Rosie’s Diner instead. Washing it all down with a margarita and chocolate cake for dessert.

“What am I going to do, Daisy?”

At her name, the dog came over and rested her head in Nika’s lap. Nika stared into Daisy’s big golden eyes and wished the pooch would tell her she’d buried a bazillion dollars in the back yard.

“Show me, girl. Let’s go dig it up.”

Daisy raced off and brought back a neon green, stuffed alligator that squeaked in her jaws. Her tail wagged in hopes of a play session.

“That alligator won’t save us, Daisy.” But she cleaned up her dinner—if she could call it that—and played Find It with Daisy until the dog threw the alligator onto her doggie bed and sat on top of it.

On her way to the bathroom to take a shower, Nika pressed the play button on her answering machine.

“Hey, Nika,” Jared’s voice called out. “I, uhh, won’t be in to work tomorrow… or like, the next day… or probably the day after that. I, umm, ran into a little trouble. Okay, maybe it’s a lot of trouble. I’m so sorry. You were the best boss I ever had. I mean that.”

Nika stared at the machine. He was guilty, and no amount of begging Sheriff Olsen would get the cop to release her Wolfman. Tomorrow she’d go into work, type up a help wanted ad, and if the Universe decided—for once in her life—to cut her a damn break, she’d have a new Wolfman by the end of the day. Yes, she was asking for a miracle, but she was out of practical options. Miracles were all she had left.

Still grumbling to herself, she cut through the cozy living room full of gorgeous wood furniture her father had made and lots of Native American art. How much would those treasured pieces fetch if she were to sell them? She hated that she’d even considered that notion.

She navigated down the hallway, shedding her clothes and stepping directly into the shower. The water hit her with a cold slap, but it was July. The apartment was warm because it didn’t have air conditioning so chilly water was welcome. It also added to her epic display of tortured woman. After a few moments it heated up, but she lived in conservation mode now so she turned off the water and hopped out of the shower long before her troubles washed down the drain.

Nope, she’d carry those troubles to bed with her. Wake up with them. Take them to work. Breathe them in.

I miss you, Tato.

Everything had been better, easier, when he was alive. This being a grownup shit wasn’t for Nika. She didn’t want to do it anymore.

Crawling into bed, Nika rested on her back and stared at the dreamcatcher hanging from the ceiling light. Tato had given it to her on her sixteenth birthday and she’d questioned why he hadn’t given her some Polish-themed memento instead.

“We’re all a little bit Native American, Nika,” he’d told her. “If we look way down deep, we’re all people of the earth.”

People of the earth. If she didn’t figure out a way to keep the trading post and improve its business so she could feed herself, she’d be a person of the earth all right.

Beneath the earth. About six feet.