Ellie's Wolf (6 page)

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Authors: Maddy Barone

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Ellie's Wolf
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Sara stopped in the middle of a laugh when she saw that Ellie was serious. “Your cousin’s friends would kill the men who win us?”

A new, louder roar from the crowd brought Ellie’s attention back to the square. The blood and bits of flesh on the floor had been mopped up, and Group Two was fighting. The man who had stared at her was moving with the same grace Ellie had seen in her cousin Taye. Was he a wolf? He must be. Only the wolf men from the Lakota Wolf Clan moved like that. Not all of Taye’s Pack looked Native American since many of them had European ancestors. She still couldn’t place him, though, and she had spent enough time at Taye’s den to know all of Taye’s Pack at least by sight. Maybe he was one of Taye’s relatives who lived with the nomadic Lakota on the prairie. She held hard to that possibility, praying the hope she clung to was real, not just smoke that would leave her at the mercy of a man she didn’t know.

He defeated three of the four men with what seemed to Ellie almost laughable ease. He was able to dodge most kicks and fists, and no knife came close to him. He tricked one of the fighters, luring him to crash into the ropes, disqualifying him. Two more were dispatched, leaving only one man to face him. That man had muscles on top of muscles, looked stunningly mean, and used every trick to defeat the wolf. The knife he swung was almost long enough to qualify as a sword, and he swung with vicious precision at his unarmed opponent. In spite of the mean man’s speed with his weapon, the blade never touched the wolf. He simply moved too fast to keep up with.

The fight went on for what seemed like hours. Although the muscle-bound fighter wasn’t able to do much damage, the curly-haired man couldn’t seem to defeat him. Ellie did not want the mean looking one for her husband. She told herself looks didn’t mean anything. The mean looking one might be sweet natured and kind, and the handsome one could be cruel. But he didn’t seem cruel. He didn’t taunt his opponent or swear when one of his blows missed.

Ellie felt guilty pleasure in examining his lithe physique. His shoulders were broad, his chest nicely muscled, his waist hard and lean. Compared to Neal, he was elegantly slender. Her husband had been thick and muscular, built like a bear with great quantities of blond hair covering his chest and back. Her guilt soared. Here she was, ogling another man, when her husband had been dead only five months.

Sara seemed awed. “How long can they keep that up?” she wondered. “You know, whichever of those guys wins is going to pick either me or you.”

Ellie’s stomach tightened. She nodded.

Relief rushed through her when the one she thought was a wolf won. The relief was followed by dread. What if he wasn’t one of Taye’s men? She clutched Sara’s hand. Her eyes felt the size of dinner plates as she watched him duck under the rope and walk toward her, hazel-green eyes fixed on her through curly strands of hair that slipped from his ponytail to cling wetly to his forehead and cheeks.

A flash of memory took Ellie back to the library in Kearney, the day she had first met her cousin Taye. One of his wolf bodyguards had seemed fascinated with her, hiding behind his curly golden-brown hair but staring at her with intent hazel-green eyes.

Ellie blinked and jerked breathlessly out of the memory when the present merged with it. The winner reached out to take her hand in a hold whose gentleness was at odds with his fiercely feral grin.

“I choose Mrs. Overdahl,” he shouted, never taking his eyes from hers.

His fingers were warm on hers. How could her hands be so cold in a swelteringly hot building in the middle of July?

She tilted her chin to look up at him. “Who are you?” she demanded.

“Quill Wolfe.”

Wolfe. The quiet tenor voice speaking that name shook Ellie’s knees with relief. “Where’s Taye?”

“He couldn’t come. The Lupa is about to have a baby.”

Baby.
Connor
. “My son…”

“Yeah,” said Quill. “We know about him. We’ll fetch him right away.”

The tears that Ellie had been suppressing for a week burst out. “Thank God!”

Sara gave Ellie a slap on the shoulder in her version of sympathy. “So Jeremy found you okay?” she asked Quill.

The mayor came over to them, smoothing his floppy hair into place along his balding head. “You’ll need to take your bride and leave the stage,” he told Quill.

Quill squeezed Ellie’s hand and gave it a gentle tug. “All right,” he said mildly.

Ellie allowed him to pull her to the side steps and then down into the crowd, but she cast several glances over her shoulder at Sara, standing alone now at the back of the stage. Once on the floor, she and Quill were surrounded by a dozen other men from Taye’s pack. Ellie was amazed she hadn’t noticed them before. They moved as a group until she had the wall at her back and a dozen men in a semi-circle guarding her. Ellie wanted to hug every one of them. She smiled with heartfelt relief at Snake and Paint, two she knew fairly well. A shard of disappointment stabbed her when they kept a little distance from her, although their smiles were just as big as hers.

“How come you’re crying, Miss Ellie?” asked Paint. He would have been a very handsome man if not for the scar on the side of his face that ruined his eye. But even the scar and the eye patch couldn’t hide his gentle concern.

Ellie wiped at her eyes with the back of the hand Quill wasn’t holding. “I’m so relieved that you all came to rescue me. I was so frightened.”

Quill gave her hand a squeeze. “We’re here. You’re safe now.”

Ellie sniffed inelegantly. “We need to help Mel too. Those men who won her don’t want her for their wife. They want to torture her and kill her. Please, can’t we help her?”

All of them stiffened and frowned. Quill pulled her to face him. “That lady who was chosen first? Why would they kill her?”

“Because she killed their brother.”

The wolves didn’t say anything, but she could tell they were wondering why Mel had killed her husband. “She had to kill him. He was…” She swallowed. “Not a good man.”

Male faces hardened with fury on Mel’s behalf. Quill nodded at Snake and Paint. “You two take a look around. Make sure she’s okay.”

Snake nodded. “What if she’s not? I didn’t like the way they hauled her out of here.”

Quill shrugged. “Take the rest of the money. Buy her if you have to.”

A fresh wave of relief washed through Ellie as she watched Snake and Paint turn away. “They said they had a room in the hotel,” she called after them. Quill was still holding her hand. She looked up at him. “Thank you!”

A faint flush bloomed in his lean brown cheeks. “You know we don’t like to see women hurt.” He raised their joined hands to his lips. “Are you okay?”

His lips were warm when they pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. It was far too intimate a gesture from a man she didn’t really know. He had won the Bride Fight. Did he think he was her husband? Or was he only pretending as part of his rescue mission? She swallowed. “I am now.”

He brushed a fingertip over the blunt edges of her chin-length bob. “You cut your hair.”

Blood warmed her cheeks. “Years ago. It’s easier to take care of like this.”

The crowd, which she had momentarily forgotten, roared. Ellie twisted to look at the stage, but at only a smidge over five feet tall, she was too short to see over the men, even when she lifted to her tiptoes. “What’s happening?”

Ellie swallowed a shriek when Quill’s hands closed on either side of her waist and lifted her to sit on his shoulders. She steadied herself by clutching at his hair, although he kept one arm lifted to brace her back and the other wrapped around her knees to hold her in place. After she’d grown accustomed enough to relax, she looked ahead at the stage.

There were only two men left in the square, circling one another. Ellie wanted to cheer when she saw one was Jelly. After a minute of watching the fight, Ellie tapped Quill’s head to get his attention.

“Please let me down. I’ve seen enough.”

Quill lowered her to the floor, studying her face with concern. “Too bloody for you?”

“I just can’t bear to watch that.”

Ellie found her face pressed into Quill’s chest. It was still damp with the sweat from his own fights. Embarrassment scorched her cheeks, and not just from the intimate position. It was the urge to lick his skin to taste his sweat that made her blush. Quill was warm and male and comforting. It had been so long since she and Neal had made love.

Temptation was removed when Quill raised a fist and howled. Ellie quickly stepped back from him, hoping he wouldn’t notice her blush.

“Who won?” she asked.

“Stone. We’ll get everyone together and leave for Moore’s Mill right away.”

“Stone? I thought it was Jelly who was fighting.”

Quill’s eyebrows lifted. “He Eats Jelly was his boyhood name. He is Spotted Stone Wolf now.” He spoke a guttural string of Lakota, which Ellie couldn’t begin to repeat, but which must be Jelly’s new name in Lakota. A white smile flashed across Quill’s face. “Don’t call him Spot unless you want to rile him up.”

Ellie knew the members of Taye’s pack, being Lakota, were given names that changed as they aged. She nodded, trying to practice calling the young man Stone in her mind. But to her, the sweet, almost simple teenager would always be Jelly.

“Here they come.” Quill swept his arm around her waist as if he wanted to be sure she didn’t get too far from him.

Sara was being carried, stiff and angry, in J—Stone’s arms. When she saw Ellie, she gave her savior a vigorous elbow to the ribs, struggled away from him, and ran to Ellie. They collided with such force that only Quill’s arm kept Ellie on her feet.

“Sara, are you okay?”

“I wanna go home!” wailed Sara.

“I’ll take you home,” Stone promised. “I’ll take good care of you.”

The intense look on his face startled Ellie. He was gazing at Sara as though she was a stream and he had been lost on the prairie without water for a week. His whole body canted toward her, his hand reaching to touch her hair.

“Don’t touch me!” Sara screamed.

Stone gave Ellie a look of appeal. Right then he looked like the artless fifteen-year-old he had been when she’d last seen him. Ellie patted Sara on the back. “It will be okay,” she soothed. “Really. All the wolves will take care of us. Two already went to check on Mel.”

Sara lifted her head with a sniff. “I need a hanky.”

Ellie watched Stone pat his naked sides, and then his pants pockets, in a futile search for a handkerchief. Desperate, he tore one of the front pockets out of his jeans and held it out for Sara. “Here, use this.”

Ellie could see that Sara would rather spit on it, but with her nose running, she snatched it with a look of disdain on her face. Quill tossed a shirt at Stone and put his own on. The dark green fabric made his hazel eyes look even greener. He had the most beautiful eyes Ellie had ever seen on a man.

“Let’s get moving,” Quill said. “We’re going to need more horses for the women. Plates and cups too. And food. Lance and Sand, go see what you can find. The rest of us are going to the hotel to see what’s going on with Snake and Paint and the other lady.”

After Stone buttoned up his shirt, he tried to put his arm around Sara’s waist. Sara snapped, “Leave me alone!”

Stone scowled but settled for walking very closely to her. Ellie walked on Sara’s other side. Other men filled in around them, so the two women were completely surrounded by protectors. Quill took point in the wedge of men plowing their way through the crowd.

The air outside the old school was a little cooler. Ellie breathed it in gratefully. Other men were gathered on the cracked sidewalk outside the old school. Two of them were Jeremy and Rye. Quill paused long enough to shake first Jeremy’s hand and then Rye’s.

“We owe you,” Quill said solemnly. “If you ever need anything, find any of the Lakota Wolf Clan or the packs in and around Kearney. We’ll do whatever we can for you.”

Sara pushed through the men, Stone closely shadowing her, to glare at Jeremy. “You could have moved a little faster.” Her tone turned grudgingly grateful. “But thanks.”

Rye gave a careless chuckle. “Just as feisty as ever, aren’t you, Chatterbox? If you were ten years older, I might have been tempted to fight for you myself.” He flicked her chin with a casual forefinger and gasped in pain when Stone caught it.

“Don’t touch my mate,” Stone growled through clenched teeth.

Rye pulled his finger back and curled it as if verifying it wasn’t broken. “Sorry.” He touched the brim of his hat to Ellie and Sara. “Ladies. Best wishes for your future happiness.”

Quill shook his head as he watched Rye and Jeremy stroll away. “Rye. He looks familiar.”

Down the block a knot of people spilled from a large building into the street, shouting something Ellie couldn’t understand. But the wolves, with their superior hearing, caught it right away. They exchanged glances, bodies tensing.

“To the hotel,” Quill commanded. “Hurry!”

Chapter 4

The desk clerk told them the Fosse room was 1001, on the top floor of the ten-floor hotel. Ellie was gasping for breath by the time she finished leaping up the steps. Quill and the others had practically flown up them, dragging the two women with them. Unlike her and Sara, none of the men were breathing hard.

The hotel room’s door was open, and a few scared looking men were hovering at the far end of the hall, casting wide-eyed glances their way. The carpet was stained by a small puddle in front of the door of room 1001. As the mother of a toddler, Ellie knew what that puddle was. Someone had gotten sick right there, probably only a few minutes ago. Quill’s nostrils quivered as he inhaled. It wasn’t the vomit he mentioned though.

“Blood,” he said grimly.

Oh, dear God
, Ellie breathed to herself.
The Fosse brothers can’t have already killed Mel.

Stone outraged Sara by putting his arms around her and dragging her back from the door. “You’ll stay out here, where it’s safe,” he ordered.

Sara threw off his arms with an expression of withering scorn on her face. “Don’t try to boss me around.”

She marched to the door, avoiding the sick in spite of the stuck-up angle of her head, and stumbled to a stop. Her mouth and both eyes were perfect circles as she backpedalled with frantic haste.

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