raised her hand and began to stroke the wolf's head. "I can't be certain, but I'll bet that
Aaron and Clem are behind the problems I've been having lately."
Relaxing against the side of the house, she gazed out over the yard. It was bathed in
the moonlight. The trees and mountains were little more than a dark silhouette in the
distance, but the view never failed to stir her soul. "There have been McCaffeys on this
land since just after the Revolutionary War. My however-many-greats grandpa was
granted the land from the government. This is my home." She paused and sighed. "And
now someone wants to take it."
The wolf perked up his ears and gave a low growl as if encouraging her to continue.
It felt good to voice her concerns. She'd had no one to talk to and just saying things out
loud was helping her to sort through her thoughts. "I know that I'm the last McCaffey
unless I marry and have kids, and that doesn't look likely. Unless I can find some
distant relative to leave the land to when I die, it will fall out of the family's hands
forever.
"Maybe it doesn't matter." The wolf growled low and harsh as if to disagree. His
disgruntled tone made her laugh. "I know and I agree with you." She ruffled the fur on
his neck. "I can't imagine living anywhere else. This place is home. It's..." She struggled
for words. "Well, it's everything to me.
"I know why the land developers want it. This is prime land for building a fancy
spa and resort and they've already bought out so much of the land around here. Maybe
it would mean more jobs for the area and maybe I am standing in the way of progress,
but, damn it, this is my home and I plan to stay." She nodded decisively. "They can
build next to me or around me, but I'm not budging."
Laurel Rose closed her eyes as exhaustion claimed her. The adrenaline crash from
the confrontation and just voicing her fears aloud had taken what energy she had. There
was nothing else she could do tonight, so it was time to try and get some rest. Dawn
would come early and, with it, another day filled with challenges. She took her
pleasures where she could because they'd been so few and far between lately, but now
it was time to end her visit with her new friend and send him back out into the night.
Bracing one hand on the side of the house and the other on the floor, she levered
herself up onto her feet. Leaning down, she picked up the rifle and limped to the front
door. The wolf padded silently at her side, watching her every move. She knew most
folks would think she was nuts for not fearing the animal, but then again, they already
thought she was crazy and she didn't feel threatened at all by his presence.
Opening the door, she stepped inside and turned back to the animal waiting
patiently on the front step. "After your help tonight, you're welcome in my home any
time. But you're obviously well-fed and well looked after, so I suspect you have a home
to go to."
He stood there on the porch, staring up at her with his big, dark eyes. She wished
she could see them better. In the moonlight they looked almost green, but that was
impossible. Wolves didn't have eyes that color. The more time she spent around him,
however, the more she was convinced he had to belong to someone. "Go on now. It's
time for you to go home."
Although she knew sending him away was the right thing to do, when he turned
and loped back toward the woods, she almost called him back. The wrenching loss she
felt as he disappeared was almost overwhelming. Her heart pounded so hard that her
chest hurt and she nearly burst into tears.
Resolutely, she closed the door and barred it for the night--another practice she'd
recently started. "It's just delayed reaction to what happened. That's all." Leaning the
rifle in the corner by the door, she turned and slowly limped across the room. She'd also
started keeping another loaded rifle upstairs in her bedroom.
"It certainly has nothing at all to do with that big wolf or half-breed dog or
whatever he is." As she gripped the railing and half walked, half hauled herself up the
stairs, she tried desperately to believe her own words.
Making her way into her bedroom, she paused and looked out the window. The
curtains fluttered in the light breeze as the night air, sweet and moist, filled the room.
The moon illuminated a small hill in the distance and as she watched, a silhouette
appeared. The lonely howl reached her ears. The sound broke her heart, echoing her
own profound loneliness.
Slamming the window shut, she spun back around and collapsed across the bed.
The soft feather mattress embraced her as she wrapped her arms around her pillow and
cried.
Chapter Five
Laurel Rose moved restlessly against the sheets, locked in an unsettled state
somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. The fresh scent of the surrounding forest
wafted through the window, sweetening the air around her. It was a familiar smell,
earthy and strong, and never failed to comfort her.
A thought nagged in the back of her mind. Hadn't she closed the window?
Snuggling her pillow closer, she rolled onto her side and opened her eyes a crack.
The sheer lace curtains were fluttering slightly in the night breeze. She should have
been alarmed by that fact, but instead she closed her eyes again and relaxed, enjoying
the feel of the moist air against her skin.
A slight rustling caught her ears. It wasn't the drapes brushing against the window
frame or anything moving around outside. It was in the room with her. And it was
close.
Still, she felt no sense of alarm, which in itself was slightly alarming. The dichotomy
of her thoughts made her frown and she struggled to make sense of things. Perhaps she
was dreaming.
Again, she opened her eyes. It was much harder to do than it should have been. Her
entire body felt heavy and she was content to just lie there on the bed, caught in a web
of lethargy.
A large shadow moved in front of the window, blocking the sliver of moonlight
that shone through it.
Her heart jumped and began a pounding rhythm against her chest. Adrenaline
surged through her body. There was someone in the room with her. Had Aaron and
Clem returned?
In a desperate effort to protect herself, she lunged over the side of the bed, grabbing
for the rifle that was leaning against her nightstand. She ignored the shaft of pain that
shot up her right leg as she hit the floor so hard that her teeth rattled.
Reaching out, she grabbed the rifle even as she kept rolling, pulling herself up into
a sitting position. She gripped it in her hands and aimed at...nothing.
Scooting into the corner, she blinked hard as she tried to peer into the deep
shadows of the room. "I know you're there." She licked her lips, moistening her dry
mouth. "Come out." She listened hard but could hear nothing.
She sat there for the longest time, waiting, listening. Nothing moved. Nothing
stirred. In fact, it was too quiet. There were no sounds from outside. No tree branches
blowing in the wind, no owls hooting in the forest, no music from the wind chimes
hanging on the front porch below her bedroom window. The air was now still, the
earlier breeze gone.
Her cramped position was beginning to get more than a little uncomfortable and
Laurel Rose knew she had to move. Keeping her eyes on the corner, she used the
bedside table to drag herself upright.
Maybe she'd been dreaming. Maybe some large bird had flown by the window and
made it look as if someone was standing in her bedroom. Maybe.
Her knee-length white cotton nightgown stuck to her back and she could feel a
bead of sweat rolling down her neck. The metallic tang of fear still filled her mouth, and
she knew she'd never rest until she checked her room.
Slowly and cautiously, she went around the foot of the bed, careful to avoid the old
cedar chest that sat there. The large armoire was pushed against the far wall and was
the most likely spot for an intruder to hide. Laurel Rose kept close to the side of the bed
as she inched toward it.
She was so scared.
Suddenly anger washed over her. She was sick and tired of being scared. Her life
had spun out of control lately and she wanted things to go back to the way they'd been.
It had taken her years to get to the point where she was even remotely content and she
was fed up with feeling as if her whole way of life was being threatened. Adrenaline
continued to pump through her veins, giving her the impetus to push forward. In a
rush, she moved, swinging her entire body around to face the shadows on the far side
of the big armoire.
Nothing.
The letdown was tremendous. It must have just been a dream. Her legs were
trembling, so she lowered herself back onto the bed with the rifle still cradled in her
arms. Realizing she was still holding it, she propped it up against the wall next to the
headboard.
Burying her face in her hands, she took several deep breaths. She was not losing her
mind. There was a logical explanation for what she saw. There had to be.
The murmur in her mind started so low that she didn't pay attention to it at first.
The deep, calm voice enveloped her, wrapping her in its warmth and strength much
like she wrapped herself in a favorite old quilt on a cold winter's day.
The words were hard to make out, but the longer she sensed the presence in her
mind, the clearer they became. She pressed her hands over her ears, trying to block out
the unfamiliar voice. She was too tired to concentrate properly and none of her normal
mental blocks worked. Soon she no longer wanted them to.