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The clock on the wall behind her chimed and she jumped.
Irritated with herself, Ronni stood and shook off her momentary weakness and flattened her hands on the counter. She couldn’t stop Jeb from coming to get them, but she would make damn certain he left Walker’s Run empty-handed.
* * *
“Who are you again?” Mary Jane McAllister, an elderly woman with short, gray curly hair and wearing overalls, squinted at Bodie from behind her screen door.
“Sergeant Gryffon.” The wooden porch squeaked as he shifted his weight. He’d been interviewing tight-lipped Co-op residents all morning about the gunshots he’d heard inside the wolf sanctuary last night. “I’m with Georgia DNR.”
“What’s that?”
“Department of Natural Resources,” he answered, for the third time. Noting the hearing aids in her ears, he swallowed his impatience.
Again, she inspected him head to toe. “Are you a game warden or something?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Though as a DNR conservation ranger in the law enforcement division, Bodie had the same investigative and arrest powers entrusted to all local, state or federal law enforcement officers.
“Well, whatcha doin’ here?” She crossed her arms over her full chest.
That was a loaded question.
In recent years, there had been a number of fatal wild boar attacks in and around Maico. DNR’s growing concern with the feral hog situation was, in part, responsible for Bodie’s reassignment here. And since his arrival, he had combed the entire area, on foot or in the air. And there wasn’t a single boar to be found, wild or otherwise.
There were, however, wolf shifters who in all likelihood did not take kindly to trespassers or interlopers.
“A witness reported shots were fired inside the Walker’s Run wolf sanctuary last night.” Bodie didn’t elaborate that he’d been the one to hear the shotgun blasts while perched in a tree at the she-wolf’s house.
After following her home from the sanctuary a few nights ago, he couldn’t seem to stay away, returning nightly to watch over her as she sat on the back porch swing. During the day, wherever his job led, he searched the faces of every woman, hoping to find her and introduce himself.
This morning as he began to interview residents living near the wolf sanctuary, Bodie had thought he would finally meet her. But when he knocked on her door, no one answered. Somehow, he had to find a way to meet this woman while in his human form. Maybe then, visions of her would stop invading his dreams.
“Did you hear gunshots last night, Ms. McAllister?”
“What if I did? It’s hunting season.”
“Yes, ma’am, but it’s illegal to hunt inside a protected wildlife refuge.”
“You ain’t got nothing to worry about,” she said. “The Co-op will take care of any poachers caught on their land.”
The thought had crossed Bodie’s mind more than once. In the sanctuary, the she-wolf-turned-beautiful-woman had said sentinels would hunt down anyone who harmed an animal on Co-op lands.
“I’m trying to do my job, ma’am.” Before someone gets hurt.
“Well, go do it somewhere else.” Ms. McAllister stepped back and gripped the hardwood door. “I ain’t got nothing to say.”
The door closed hard enough to rattle the metal screen. Definitely not the first one slammed in his face this morning, but since this was the last house bordering the Co-op’s wolf sanctuary, it would be the final interview for today.
He descended the porch steps, walked to his state-supplied, double cab truck and climbed inside. Shaking off the autumn chill, he studied the McAllister homestead. It was different from the other homes bordering the Co-op’s wolf sanctuary in that she had a dozen or so chickens running around her yard and an empty pig sty. There had been no indication of pets or farm animals at the other residences.
The house appeared more weathered than the others he had seen, but still in good repair. In the front window, one slat in the blinds parted. His intent when questioning the residents wasn’t to antagonize them, but to offer help.
Help that no one seemed to want or appreciate. If indeed they were wolf shifters, as he suspected, perhaps the Co-op residents believed they were safe living among their own kind. Estranged from his clan and under constant scrutiny, Bodie could only imagine how comforting that feeling must be.
He turned the key in the ignition and waved to the woman in the window. The blind snapped closed.
In the rearview mirror, he saw a white pickup truck pull in behind him. An older man got out, his movements stealthy and predatory.
Wahya! The term the she-wolf had used when referring to her species pierced his mind. Whereas her spirit had been kind and gentle, the aura emanating from the man stalking toward Bodie’s vehicle caused his feathers to ruffle.
Bodie rolled down his window. “Good morning, sir. I’m Sergeant Gryffon with DNR.”
“I know who you are.” The man’s dark eyes narrowed. “Appreciate your interest in the shots fired last night, but it’s a Co-op matter. Best you stay out of it.”
“If it involves poaching or any other illegal activity, I’m inclined to disagree.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Then you know who discharged the firearms?”
The man sucked his teeth and his gaze flickered right. “A couple of the Co-op’s teenagers were horsing around. Won’t happen again.”
It was an outright lie. In his raven form, Bodie had seen the shotgun casings on the ground and the cut fence. He’d also followed several wolves tracking the perpetrators’ trail, which stopped abruptly at the tire tracks that disappeared at the asphalt road. Since he couldn’t very well admit to it, he was at a dead end, too.
Bodie picked up the notepad and pen on the seat next to him. “Do you mind telling me your name, sir?”
The man’s wizened face darkened. “Don’t see why I should.”
“For the record,” Bodie said. “If I’m going to close out the incident report, I need to know who provided the information.”
“Henry Coots.” The man exhaled heavily. “Most people call me Cooter.”
Bodie jotted down the name. “Who are the juveniles involved?”
“I don’t think their names are necessary. They got a good scolding from the sentinels. It won’t happen again.”
“The sentinels?” The she-wolf had mentioned them, too.
“The Co-op’s security force.” Cooter nodded. “Put down in your book that they handled the situation. There’s nothing more to it.”
Oh, there was a hell of a lot more to it. “Thank you for your time, Cooter.”
“Next time, before you stick your nose into the Co-op’s matters, you should talk to Tristan Durrance. He’s been in charge of security since I retired.”
“Yes, sir.” Bodie had left a message for Tristan but hadn’t received a call back yet. Having first met while working the fires in the Chattahoochee National Forest a few years ago, they had reconnected when Bodie moved to Maico.
Cooter returned to his truck and drove around Bodie’s vehicle toward the house. Bodie checked the rearview mirror.
At least no more Co-opers were driving up to tell him not to stick his beak where it didn’t belong.
Thankfully Willow was having a better time integrating with the locals than her father. She loved her new classmates. Had to be a first. Quiet and heartbreakingly shy, Willow had hated every school she’d attended. Bodie suspected bullying though she never admitted it.
But on her first day at Maico High, she had come home all smiles and talking more than she had the entire summer before they’d moved. Coming out of her shell, she had made friends and was growing more confident in herself every day. Perhaps it had something to do with the nearing of her first transformation, but he hoped that it was because she was happy.
The gnawing in his belly turned into an obnoxious rumble. He’d missed lunch and now his stomach was trying to devour itself. He lifted the phone from its holder on the dashboard and called the local diner.
“Mabel’s,” a woman answered.
“I need to place an order.”
“Bodie?” She drew out his name with her Southern drawl. “Is that you?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, hey, cutie pie. I wondered if you were comin’ by today to see me.”
Bodie had no idea which server was talking to him.
Being a new face in a small town always made one stand out. Being a new single face was like wearing a neon sign. But after Willow and Bodie’s mother had joined him in Maico, the neon sign went nova.
“I’m running late and need to pick up something to go.”
“Want the usual?”
“That’ll be fine.” Bodie glanced at the clock. “I might not get there until after the diner closes.”
“I’ll keep it warming in the window. You drive safe, now. See you soon.”
Bodie backed out of the driveway onto the road. Heading into town, he passed the KOA campground and the weight on his shoulders increased. Living in the camper had been a temporary plan when he’d arrived in Maico, alone. He’d expected to have time to find a place before bringing up his daughter and mother.
However, plans changed after two Tlanuhwas had unexpectedly approached Bodie, hoping to recruit him into a small faction wanting him to pick up the mantle of modernization among their kind that had gotten his forward-thinking father killed. Not knowing if they were sincere or informants for the Tribunal—the Tlanuhwas’ governing council—Bodie had adamantly declined.
Still, if something was going on among his clansmen, he wanted his family close. Of course, his mother had squawked about the move. But she didn’t know about the incident and he wasn’t inclined to worry her over something that might not come to fruition.
Clipped to the dashboard, his phone chirped. He tapped the speaker button. “Gryffon.”
“Hey.” Tristan sounded like his usual friendly self. “Just got your message. Nel turned my phone off so I could get some sleep.”
“Nel is in town?”
“Yeah.” Tristan’s voice faded into a contented sigh. “This time, she’s staying.”
“That’s great,” Bodie said, now making sense of how devastated his staunch bachelor friend had been by the break-up with his summer fling. Wolves mated for life; apparently wolf-shifters did, too, when they fell in love.
Not that Bodie was looking for love, but maybe Tristan could help him connect with the she-wolf. Never far from his mind, she captivated him in a way no woman had. He needed to meet her in person, gauge her reaction to his human form. Find out if the strong attraction he felt was mutual.
“About the gunshots last night,” Bodie began before his thoughts continued to lead him elsewhere.
“Yeah, that’s why I’m calling.” Tristan paused. “Can you meet me at the Walker’s Run Resort? We need to discuss a few things.”
Oh, yes, we do.
Chapter 3
The gray gloom in the early afternoon sky matched Ronni’s mood and she barely felt the nip in the light autumn breeze. Strolling past Wyatt’s Automotive Service, she gave a finger wave to Rafe inside the garage and then crossed the side street to Mabel’s Diner.
After an explosion at Rafe’s business last year had caused damage to the diner, the aging owner, Mabel Whitcomb, had considered retiring instead of reopening. She—like most humans—was unaware of the existence of wolf shifters and was not a member of the Walker’s Run Cooperative. But, because she was a pillar in the community and a friend to many Co-op members, Gavin Walker—the pack’s Alpha—had directed funds from the Co-op’s reserves to finance the diner’s remodeling project.
On the outside, the town landmark still looked the same with its bright yellow walls and white trim. The interior, however, had been given a significant overhaul. Gone was the faded eighties decor, the stained and threadbare commercial carpet, the ripped vinyl booths, the wobbly aluminum tables and a lunch counter with a large, face-like coffee stain the servers had named Fred.
Now the palette matched the cozy feel that Mabel’s always generated. The walls were creamy yellow with white accents, though some rich wood paneling kept customers from feeling like they’d been swallowed by a lemon meringue pie. Instead of carpet, the floor was now wood laminate. The worn and rickety booths, tables and chairs were replaced with solid, sturdy wooden ones. Red-and-white-checkered cloths decorated the tables, and lacy curtains hung over the windows.
The menu was as Southern as ever. Just walking into the diner, one could hear the patrons’ arteries hardening. In an effort to not kill off all the customers with cholesterol-induced heart attacks, a few lighter and healthier menu options had been introduced.
Mabel herself remained the most prominent fixture. Sporting her iconic red beehive hairdo and sky blue eyeshadow, she perched on her stool behind the cash register, ringing up the last customer in the restaurant.
“Put your order in about five minutes ago, hon,” Mabel said. “Should be out any time.”
“Thanks.” Ronni smiled as if she hadn’t received a letter announcing her entire world could come crashing down at any time.
She continued on into the women’s restroom that wasn’t much bigger than a closet. After washing her hands, she splashed cold water on her face. The harried look her eyes had held after Zeke died was back. Fear, mostly, of what an uncertain future held.
She stared at her reflection until the fear cowered beneath her determination. No man, no wolf, would take her son.
This was the twenty-first century. Wolfans had evolved alongside humans. It was about time their laws did, too.
Ronni returned to the dining area, empty except for one other person. A man. Sitting on her stool. Eating her lunch.
A growl rumbled in her throat. Stealing a wolfan’s food could be a deadly mistake.
“Hey!” She marched over to her seat. “What do you think you’re doing?”
The Native American man wearing the green slacks and gray button-down of a Georgia state ranger uniform didn’t startle. He merely finished chewing and slowly turned in her direction.
Straight black hair fell to his shoulders and the shadow of a beard shaded his jaw and mouth. Leisurely, his gaze rose from her midsection to her face. Recognition flared in those whiskey-colored depths, though she’d never met the man.
She had, however, heard talk about Bodie Gryffon, the town’s newest bachelor. Tall, handsome, mysterious.
In a place as small as Maico, the rumor mill never ceased, especially when a single man was involved. There had been speculation as to why he’d declined interest from all the ladies who’d put themselves in his path.
Ronni could tell by the way his eyes dilated and his nostrils flared when assessing her that at least one of the rumors was dead wrong.
He was nice-looking, with high cheekbones balancing a well-proportioned nose that turned down slightly at the tip. And his naturally bronzed skin was simply flawless. Still, Ronni wouldn’t agree that he was as handsome as the gossip mill reported until she saw his chest. Broad and taut with muscles sculpted by hard work, yet warm and comforting when she needed to be held—that’s what made a man desirable in her eyes.
It was difficult to really ascertain much about Bodie’s chest from the way he filled out his shirt because he wore a bulletproof vest beneath it.
“I’m eating lunch.” His broad and toothy smile held no apology for pilfering her food, but it did speed up her heart. “Care to join me?”
“I might’ve considered it, if you weren’t already eating my lunch.” Wahyas took food very seriously.
Her inner wolf didn’t care and urged her to take a seat.
“This is mine. I called in a to-go order.”
Ronni flattened her hand on the counter and leaned close. “Does that look like takeout?” she said, catching a whiff of his clean, masculine scent. Hormones that had been dormant for quite some time took notice. Awareness spread through her body while bewilderment distracted her brain.
Bodie wasn’t wolfan. Wahyas had a special sense that helped them recognize their own kind. But something about him was setting off her intuition.
He stared down at the platter of food and drink. “You ordered a fried fish sandwich minus the tartar sauce, pickled okra, cheesy tater tots and an orange soda, too?”
Ronni nodded.
The double doors to the kitchen swung open and Mabel sauntered out carrying a takeout bag. “Here ya go, hon.” Her gaze slid from Bodie to Ronni.
Eyes wide and apologetic, Bodie hopped off the stool. “My mistake.”
“We can swap.” Smiling, because he was a gentleman after all, Ronni took the seat next to him.
“Actually, I have a meeting and was going to eat on the way.” He tugged his wallet from his back pocket. “I ate a couple of your tater tots, so I’ll give you mine and pay for your lunch.”
“Don’t worry about it. I won’t miss a few tots.”
He handed Mabel his money and shoved his wallet back into his pocket. “By the way, I’m Bodie Gryffon.”
“I know. Small town.” She shrugged. “I’m Ronni Lyles. I own The Stitchery down the street.”
“Lyles?” Bodie studied her. “Do you have a son named Alex?”
Ronni’s hackles rose along her spine. “I do, why?”
“My daughter, Willow, is very shy. Alex and his friends have been very kind to her at school.”
Ronni relaxed. “I would be disappointed to hear otherwise.”
“The Stitchery? Is that a dress shop?”
“Fabric store and sewing supplies, mostly. But I also do custom orders and alterations.”
“Willow needs some things for a school sewing project.” He fished his cell phone from his pocket. “Do you have any of this?”
Ronni read the list: two or more cute pieces of fabric, matching felt, piping, color-matched thread, straight pins, a sturdy needle, fabric glue.
“I do. What is she making?”
“Beats me.” He started to put the phone away and hesitated. “What’s your number?” The golden flecks in his curious eyes glittered.
“Why do you want my number?”
“To text you the list.” On any other man, the smugness in his smile would have immediately turned her off. Somehow on him, it worked. Maybe it was the tease in his eyes which she found more playful than arrogant.
She took the phone from him, ignoring the static charge that nipped them both, and put in her name and number before returning the device to him.
“Great. I’ll ask my mom to bring Willow by your store tomorrow.” Bodie glanced at his watch. “I have to go.”
He picked up the takeout bag and his drink. Going out the door, he flashed a sexy grin. “See ya later.”
“You might be the first woman in town he’s asked for a phone number.” Mabel sidled over to Ronni.
“It’s for business.” Her phone pinged with a text.
Hey, beautiful. You’re a lifesaver and made my day. :)
His daughter’s list followed.
“I don’t think he got your number just for business.” Mabel chuckled. “He can’t take his eyes off you.”
Ronni turned to look out the window and met Bodie’s gaze. She couldn’t explain it, but something about him seemed very familiar.
* * *
The morning might’ve been a bust, but starting the afternoon meeting his she-wolf in person had overshadowed the disappointment.
Ronni Lyles.
Now Bodie had a name to go with the beautiful face that haunted his dreams. And an excuse to see her again. Once Willow picked up her supplies, he planned to stop by Ronni’s store and take her to lunch to thank her. He couldn’t wait to see what developed from there.
Walking inside the rustic-themed lobby of the Walker’s Run Resort, he noticed a huge wolf totem with a large black bird at the top in one of the far corners. The irony wasn’t lost on him, but maybe it was on the wolfans.
Legends often associated wolves and ravens. He wondered if and when the two shifter species had been allies and what had come between them.
A tall, blond man appeared in a hallway near the registration counter. Bodie met him halfway across the lobby.
Smiling, Tristan extended his hand. “Glad you could make it.”
Bodie accepted the cordial handshake, feeling a little awkward suspecting his friend’s wolfan secret yet remaining quiet about his own shifting abilities. But, until he knew more about the Wahyas, caution was paramount.
“I’ve been meaning to catch up with you.” Tristan led Bodie down a carpeted hallway decorated with rich tapestries. “Between getting our security force up and running and Nel coming home, I’ve been short on time.”
Having long hours and an erratic schedule with his own job, Bodie completely understood.
“Speaking of which, I’m not able to stay for the meeting. I need to pick up Nel for a doctor’s appointment.”
“Then why am I here?”
“I want to introduce you to Gavin Walker, the man in charge of the Co-op. He wants to discuss what happened in the wolf sanctuary last night.”
Bodie hoped it wasn’t more of the same stone-walling he’d received from Cooter.
They stopped in front of a large wooden door. Before Tristan’s knuckles rapped against the wood, a strong, masculine voice called out, “Come.”
Bodie’s palms began to sweat. Wolfans must have damn sensitive noses if the one inside the room had smelled them coming.
Tristan pushed open the door and ushered Bodie into the office. “Gavin, this is Sergeant Bodie Gryffon from DNR.”
“Welcome to Walker’s Run.” The older man sitting behind the mammoth mahogany desk slowly rose. Intelligence and wariness shone in his icy blue eyes. His hair and close-cropped beard might be snow-white but he exuded health and vitality and more than a little cunning. He waved at the two captain’s chairs in front of the desk. “Please have a seat.”
Bodie took the one on the right, closest to the open window. He might not be able to outrun a wolf to the door, but he could fly out the window if necessary.
“Sorry to make introductions and run,” Tristan said to Bodie. “But I promise we’ll catch up later.”
“Today is the ultrasound, isn’t it?” Gavin asked.
“Yep.” Tristan grinned. “Boy or girl, doesn’t matter. We just want the baby to be healthy.”
“So do Abby and I.” Gavin gave a slight nod. “Do let us know.”
“Will do.” Tristan ducked out of the office.
Bodie had yet to meet Tristan’s girlfriend, but he wished her all the best. Pregnancy, even in modern times, was risky. So was the post-delivery, which was when Bodie had lost his wife.
“Are you all right, Sergeant Gryffon?”
“Yes, sir,” he said, a bit more solemnly than intended. He hadn’t thought of Layla in a long time. They married out of duty, not love. Because the Tlanuhwa numbers were alarmingly low, marriages were arranged by their Tribunal to ensure the best matches for healthy offspring. Despite the emotional distance between them, Layla had given him a daughter. For that, he would always be grateful.
“I had a number of calls this morning about you,” Gavin said.
“It wasn’t my intent to alarm anyone. I was simply following up on a report regarding a possible poaching incident in or near the Co-op’s wolf sanctuary,” Bodie answered.
“The Co-op has dealt with poachers in the past.”
“So I’ve heard.” Bodie didn’t want that happening again, especially on his watch. “However, I’ve been assigned to this area and it’s my job to deal with these situations.”
“We appreciate your commitment, but whatever happens on Co-op property is not your concern.”
“Actually, it is. I have the same power and privileges as any law enforcement officer. And, in situations regarding game and wildlife, I actually have more authority. Which means your wolf pack is completely within my realm of responsibility.” And it was a responsibility Bodie took seriously.
A subtle tension crept into Gavin’s body. Bodie knew to tread carefully. He did not want to get on the bad side of the man who had the power to help him on a personal level.
“The problem I face is that I work alone and I can’t be everywhere,” Bodie said. “I’ve noticed the Co-op’s security teams patrol well beyond the wolf sanctuary.”