Jett's Wild Wolf (Mystic Wolves 3) (23 page)

BOOK: Jett's Wild Wolf (Mystic Wolves 3)
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“You poor dear. I’m so sorry for what you’ve been through today. No one should have to go through that.” Her genuine concern stole his breath and cracked the shield he’d been holding over his emotions all day long. Tears filled his eyes, and his lungs burned as he panted for air. “It’s okay, let it out. Cry all you need to. There’s no shame in crying when the tears are for someone you love.”

The validation meant everything to him, but he couldn’t find it in him to respond verbally so he just nodded mutely, and wept against her shoulder. All of the fear and sorrow from the day seemed to leak out of him rolling down his cheeks and soaking into her blouse. When his sobs finally subsided and he was left hiccupping and wiping his snotty nose on his hand, she finally released him.

“There now. You’ve got that all out of your system, and now you’ll sleep better.” Tenderly pushing his shaggy hair from his eyes, she brushed her lips across his forehead. “We’ll talk when you’re ready, but tonight you need to rest. Sleep well, Drannon.”

Silently, he watched as she headed off down the hall, turning at the top of the stairs and disappearing from sight. He stood dumbly for several minutes in the doorway of the blue room, taking in his temporary home with a hint of envy for the people who lived here permanently. He assumed by the way Danica spoke it was unlikely he’d be here long, but he was going to take advantage of the luxury while he could. After all, it wasn’t like his mother was going to come back to life and scold him for indulging in a bath with real soap.

If he was going to be on his own for the rest of his life, he was going to take advantage of every possible good thing that came along and relish in it while he could. Who knew what kind of home permanent Danica would find for him? For this brief moment, he was safe, surrounded by warmth and people who genuinely cared about his feelings, and that was all he’d ever wanted.

A door opened and closed downstairs, startling Drannon from his reminiscing, and he shook off the lump of emotion in his throat. Abe and Sera became his salvation as he grew into a temperamental young man with an ax to grind. They’d just as easily been his cheerleaders when he finally realized no one owed him anything and he’d have to go out and work for his future. He invested his energies in a career that turned sour on him, and eight years ago, he came home from the big city with his tail between his legs, and found his heart back home on the ranch.

He and his three closest foster brothers, Roman, Vin, and Hawke had bought the ranch off Abe and turned the main house and most of the cabins into a guest ranch. Of course it was Marilyn who ran the guest side of things, while the boys took care of the ranch. It turned out to be a great investment, and a timely one considering Sera died a couple of years later, and the fire inside Abe fizzled.

Now that both Crawleys were gone, the big house seemed cold and empty most days, even when it was full of guests or ranch hands. Skimming his hand up the wide oak banister, Drannon remembered sliding down it on his rump and getting scolded over and over by Sera, who always did it with a smile on her face. He remembered garland wrapped around it with twinkling lights encircling the posts, and the smell of pies and Christmas cookies. This Christmas Marilyn had put up the tree alone, and the tree skirt had remained empty since the boys decided not to bother exchanging gifts with each other. Maybe it wasn’t just Abe who lost his heart when Sera died. The whole of Crawley Creek Ranch seemed to have lost its sparkle.

Pushing aside his sad thoughts, and longing for the old days, Drannon went back to bed already listing in his head the multitude of chores that needed to be done when the sun rose.

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