Chapter Twenty-Five
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“Emma, draw me a bear,” Luke said. In the small building next to Ryder’s workshop, the mischievous cub and his littermate sat on the floor with crayons encircling them. The other students had already been picked up by their mothers. An hour ago, Ryder had come for Minette and carried her across the backyard to the house. But Bonnie, the boys’ mother, had called to say their pack meeting was running late.
“One bear, coming up.” Emma traced out the outline of a bear. Before she’d finished, Luke’s littermate demanded a wolf.
Wolves were trickier, but she managed. “There you go,” Emma said and handed over the paper. “What color is the wolf going to be?”
“Purple,” Tyler said after a glance at his brother’s bear whose fur was the color of green lake algae.
“I look forward to seeing that,” Emma told him gravely.
He nodded graciously and concentrated on coloring within the lines.
“Emma, I’m so sorry I’m late.” Like a brisk breeze, Bonnie blew into the room. Her offspring jumped her, acting as if they hadn’t seen her for months rather than hours.
After duly admiring the artwork, Bonnie sent them to gather their belongings.
“Did the meeting go all right?” Emma asked. “You look…tense.”
The wolf’s blonde hair was ruffled, and she carried the lingering scent of anger.
“Talk about a showdown.” Bonnie blew a lock of hair out of her eyes. “Shay’s been extremely patient with Chad and Patrick, but tonight, he stated the next time they get aggressive with a female, he’ll either beat the hell out of them or drive them out of the territory altogether.”
Wasn’t Chad the wolf who’d deliberately squashed her fingers at the Gathering? Emma blinked. “Bree mentioned once that there was trouble left over from last year or something.”
“Or something. Our last alphas and beta were belligerent and aggressive. Shay’s different—controlled and patient. Unfortunately, some of the younger wolves see his restraint as weakness. They’re sooo going to learn different.” She picked up a stuffed mouse and tossed it to Luke to pack. “We also have a few young females who lack manners, but Bree’s too soft-hearted to discipline them.”
Bree was not only a sweetheart, but she’d also been raised human. What would it be like to change to such a different culture? She noticed Bonnie’s worried expression. “Something else?”
“I’m afraid so. I stayed late so I could give you the scoop.”
Uh-oh. Emma straightened. “Go on.”
“Before we could deal with Candice and Ursula, a female came into the lodge. A really beautiful, skanky wolf who’s moving to Cold Creek to be with her cub. She says the baby’s father stole the child from her home—and that he’s violent.”
“Genevieve?” Emma whispered through numb lips.
“That’s her.” Bonnie squeezed her hand. “I’d hoped to say you needn’t worry, but that bitch is good. She had the young males eating out of her hand like lap dogs. Candice and Ursula were fawning all over her.”
“She was the one who was violent. Minette is just starting to get over being afraid all the time.”
“Honey, I figured it was something like that.” Bonnie shook her head. “Will you tell Ryder and Ben what’s going on?”
“I will.”
A few minutes later, Emma left her “preschool” building, crossed the yard, and went in their home’s back door. In the kitchen, the fragrance of venison stew came from the crock-pot on the counter. She hadn’t eaten, but her appetite had disappeared the minute Genevieve was mentioned.
She stopped to drink a glass of water and frowned at the refrigerator door where Minette’s crayon drawings had been ordered into neat lines. Turning in a circle, she noted that the counters and sink were spotless, the floor clean enough to eat from, and even the stovetop scoured.
Interesting. Had they already heard about Genevieve? She knew she cleaned when she was upset—which had been most difficult to do in a cave—but which of the males reacted that way?
She followed the sounds of quiet talking to the great room.
Ryder sprawled on the sectional, reading one of his philosophy books. In front of the crackling fire, Ben and Minette were putting away the wooden cherries from a board game. Ben’s hands were so big he kept dropping pieces. In the center of the room, Minette had built something that resembled Ben’s house, complete with towers, from scrap lumber Ryder’d cut and painted for her.
Minette looked up and beamed, then dashed over with enthusiastic hugs and kisses. Emma’s eyes stung with pleased tears—because that was how Bonnie’s boys had acted toward her.
As the cubling trotted back to finish putting her game away, Emma’s face tightened. Genevieve’s arrival might send the happy child back into a terrified waif.
Ryder set his book down and sat up. “What’s wrong, Emma?” he asked in a quiet voice.
Still sitting, Ben studied her, and his brows drew together.
She gave a meaningful glance toward Minette. “We can talk later.”
Ryder caught on immediately. His expression turned to concrete.
At the rise of tension, Minette quieted. Her thumb slid into her mouth.
Emma pulled in a slow breath. The child was overly sensitive to moods around her. Someday, the hard-won talent would serve her well, but it hurt to see a child so insecure.
“Look how late it’s gotten,” Emma said. “I think it’s time a kitten had a bath, don’t you?”
“Aye,” Ryder agreed.
“Minette, since we’re not going to wash your hair tonight, do you want me to braid it and pin it on top of your head?”
Her little face lit up.
“Why don’t you run up to my room and pick out a scrunchie?”
As the cub dashed up the stairs, Emma sank down beside Ryder. “Genevieve attended the pack meeting and told them she’s moving here. And that you’re violent.”
Ryder grunted as if he’d taken a fist to his stomach. But he put an arm around her and pulled her close enough to share his body heat. “Easy, bard. We’ll work out whatever we need to work out.”
Emma scowled. “Why can’t people tell that she’s lying? Her scent should show it, if nothing else.”
“She wears human perfume,” Ryder said.
Emma wrinkled her nose. “Ewwww.” The cloying “fragrances” of the humans were nose-clogging torture. “Hmm. Can’t we go to the Cosantir? Wouldn’t he be able to make her tell the truth? And go away?”
Ben rose to his feet, his sheer size incredibly reassuring, and tucked the board game on a bookshelf. When Emma had arrived, the shelves held only a handful of Ben’s history books, but games and toys had been appearing until no free space remained.
“Calum might help,” Ben said. “But calling on him might be chancy. It’s true that Cosantirs don’t tolerate lying, but they’re also very traditional. And, far as I know, cubs always stay with the dam.”
“But she hurt Minette.”
“Aye. And, since Calum has a good heart, he might take steps to ensure the cub’s safety. That doesn’t mean he’ll pick a couple of males to raise a female cub. He might hand Minette back to Genevieve with someone ordered to supervise. Or require Genevieve to move into the wolf pack quarters.”
“Oh.” She certainly knew the dangers of a Cosantir’s Judgment. Avoiding Calum might be a better idea. “You have a point.”
Ben touched her hair as he walked past. “Like Ryder said. We’ll manage.”
Ryder looked up. “Where are you going? You cooked, so it’s my night to clean.”
“I need to do something. Scrubbing the fuck out of something will work.”
Emma frowned. “The kitchen’s clean already. Even that marker stain on the floor where Minette tried to draw a frog is gone.”
“Can’t be clean. Ryder always leaves a mess,” Ben said and disappeared. The lights came on.
Emma and Ryder followed him, trailed by Minette who clutched a bright pink scrunchie.
“Whoa, I didn’t know kitchens could shine like this,” Ryder said.
Ben grinned. “Never happened to me, but I’ve seen the Cosantir’s kitchen this spotless. And Zeb and Shay’s.”
Emma tilted her head. “You hired Jody and her crew to clean here?”
Ben’s laugh rumbled out before he pulled her against his body, kissing her lightly. Just his scent, his touch, the strength in his arms left her leaning against him, trying to remember the conversation.
Cleaning. Right.
“Nope.” He’d turned her and pointed to the far wall. A small hole showed in the baseboard.
“That wasn’t there before.” Ryder picked up Minette, settling her on his hip.
“I think we’ve acquired a pair of brownies,” Ben said. “We’ll need to leave out cream and cookies for them.”
Emma wrapped her arms around Ben and hugged him hard. In the old tales, which apparently were still true, the house-cleaning brownies served families in exchange for goodies. But they only lived with families. Happy families.
Ryder’s face held an unfamiliar expression, much like the wonder of a cub seeing the moon for the first time.
“Cookies and cream?” Pulling in a deep breath, Emma used one of Ben’s favorite phrases, “I’ll get right on that.”