Rebel's Claw (11 page)

He frowned as a red SUV he didn’t recognize barreled down the washed out road way too fast. Damn newcomers. They were ruining the town. He appreciated making a living but couldn’t keep up with the new demand for milled lumber.

What if one of those outsiders was his mate? He liked his life and didn’t need some woman to screw up everything he’d worked so hard for.

He hefted the log onto the table with a tired groan.
Maybe I do need some help
. If he kept working with dangerous saws on no food and sleep, he’d eventually cut off an important body part.

Grimacing and biting his tongue in concentration, he guided the log into the relentless blade. A waterfall of sawdust sparkled in the sun, filling his nose with the reassuring scent of wood.

Ah, much better.

With his luck, he’d have to hire some Dominant male who’d give him orders. Pretty soon the other guy would run the place. His stomach growled, competing with the noise from the saw. Enough was enough. A man had to eat.

He turned off the saw and got into his white pickup truck. Grabbing a quick sandwich from Gee’s Bar ought to give him enough energy for the long day and night ahead.

***

By the time Lara reached Los Lobos, her butt ached from hours of driving and her stomach growled louder than a wild animal. When a tall, Native American man stood in the middle of the road, blocking her path, she sighed with frustration.

“What’s your name and your business here, Wolf?” he asked after she’d stopped and rolled down her window.

Who are you, border patrol?
She kept her thoughts to herself since pissing the guy off didn’t seem like a good idea.
He must be the Enforcer around here
.

“Lara Wolfe. My mother sent me,” she said.

He raised an eyebrow. Yeah, she didn’t think he’d be satisfied with a simple answer.

“I’m from the Lamar Canyon Pack in Yellowstone. My mother was the last Alpha female. She was shot by a hunter recently.”

His gaze softened a bit yet looked warier than ever. “Why did she send you here?”

“She didn’t say.” She shrugged, making her stomach growl. “Does it matter? I’m starving.”

“How long do you plan to stay?”

Based on the crappy roads and even crappier reception, not long.

“Probably a day or two at the most.” She tapped her nails on the steering wheel. “Long enough to get some food and rest, at least.”

He nodded. “If you’re looking for sanctuary, you’ll have to take that up with Drew Tao. In the meantime, I’ll inform him you’re here.”

Drew must be the Alpha. So much for blending into the woodwork.

“Gee’s Bar has food,” he said, pointing down the road. “You can inquire about lodging there.”

“Thanks. Do I need to pay a toll?”

Her attempt at humor didn’t faze his stony expression one bit. He finally uncrossed his arms and stepped to the side, letting her pass. She pulled into the dirt parking lot at the little dive called Gee’s Bar and parked beside a white truck browned with dirt. It had so much lumber and crap in the back it was inches from dragging the ground.

So this is Los Lobos
…. So far, it didn’t impress her.

“Momma, what kind of hick town did you send me to?”

She cleared her throat, which was still sore from the endless howling between those two rocks. The bright side of the trip was getting away from the sad reminders. Her emotions were still too raw to seek vengeance. The time away from Yellowstone could help her regain her inner strength and balance.

But why here?

During the long drive, she kept asking herself why her mother had sent her to such a forgotten hole. The roads leading to town were practically impassable. The rough ruts nearly knocked the guitar beside her to pieces. Not to mention her teeth.

Since her pack needed her at home more than ever, there could only be one reason. Her mate was here.

Well, she didn’t want a damn mate, she thought as she got out of the SUV and flicked her long, dark hair off her sweaty face. She wanted her mother back. Every Wolf had a life’s mate, but why did hers belong to a strange pack?

She swallowed hard as she opened the front door.
Ugh
. The place was a bigger dive inside than outside. Paneling and dusty old animal heads covered the walls. The bar stools, upholstered with hideous green vinyl, probably groaned when they turned.

First, dinner, then a place to stay and, hopefully, a gig singing and playing her guitar. She had to pay for her time here somehow. If she did meet her mate, she could say no thanks and still go her own way, straight back to Lamar Canyon to fight for her pack.

Tyler Brooks was next on her list. The arrogant rancher and his hired hands had killed more wolves than anyone else in the area. While visiting a bar in Cody, she’d heard his men bragging about a wolf’s death. The description of it fit her mother. One of them had probably shot her, but which?

Visiting South Dakota would have to be enough for her mother. Staying here was out of the question.

Ogden sat at the wooden counter in Gee’s Bar, tearing into his hot hamburger. A good meal was exactly what he needed. Sitting down for a while felt damn good, too. He’d have to take breaks more often. Maybe he could fill each order after all.

A bell tinkled over the front door. He didn’t recognize the woman who stepped inside.

Another damn newcomer.

Ryker must be getting lax in his Enforcer duties. Why else would he let so many people enter town? Ogden set down the forgotten half of his sandwich on the cracked plate. She didn’t resemble a prissy tourist, though. Wearing cowboy boots and a big plaid shirt rolled up at the sleeves, she looked like a local. Walked like one, too. An eyeful of curves encased in snug jeans sent blood rushing to his groin. Her shirt had too many buttons undone…or maybe not enough.

Damn
. He came here for dinner, not a peep show. When she took a seat several stools away from him and rested her elbows on the counter, he took another gulp of his burger. The sooner he finished it and got back to work, the better.

The long, red streak in her black hair, which she smoothed with her fingers, reminded him of a bolt of lightning. She probably drove the red SUV which had raced past the mill earlier. Red wasn’t his favorite color. It meant trouble, the last thing he needed.

“Is there a menu or something?” she asked Paul, the waiter.

“He doesn’t talk.” Which meant Ogden had to. So much for an easy escape. He couldn’t leave the woman here to starve, could he? “There’s no menu, either. They’ve got fried pickles, steamed broccoli, and burgers. Take your pick.”

“O-kay.” She rolled her eyes, which told Ogden what she thought of the bar and the whole town. Fine with him. The place already had too many people.

“If you smile at him, he might put cheese on the burger.”

“A cheeseburger it is,” she replied. “And a Coke, if they’ve got one.”

Paul nodded and poured her drink while a radio with fuzzy reception played alternative rock.

“Thanks, Mr.…?”

“Ogden Woods. I run the town sawmill.”

She took a swig of soda, ignoring the straw. “How quaint. I’m Lara Wolfe.”

Wolfe. Why was he not surprised? Of course, she was a Werewolf, too. He’d sensed it as soon as she’d walked in. Her scent teased him, begging him to move over a few stools until her rounded butt perched on his lap, grinding against his erection. It reminded him of a thunderstorm, fresh and electrifying.

“So, what brings you to Los Lobos?” he asked.

Her shoulders stiffened. “A family matter.”

He clenched his jaw shut so he wouldn’t be tempted to ask more questions. He didn’t usually act nosey, much less waste his time on chitchat. Hopefully, her family business—whatever it was—wouldn’t take long.

“Is there a bathroom here?”

“The outhouse is out back.” He grinned, realizing he hadn’t smiled much lately. “I’m kidding. The restroom is through there.”

She laughed. “The outhouse would have been fine with me.”

He could listen to her talk all day. She had the sexiest, huskiest voice he’d ever heard. It even had a little lilt in it, which reminded him of music. He’d never seen such pretty, haunting eyes. They reminded him of cloudy days and softened her red streak. What color were they? Gray?

Blood rushed through his limbs. He ached to lay her on top of the bar and plow himself between her thighs. Desire battled with pain in his bones and sinews. Clenching the counter until his knuckles turned white, he fought the havoc in his body. Hell, he was completely out of control. If she came any closer, he might shift. Then he’d be too achy to get much work done the rest of the evening.

Not to mention how embarrassing an involuntary shift at the bar would be. Why was he a Werewolf? He couldn’t shift when he wanted to and sometimes it happened when he didn’t.

As soon as she disappeared around the corner, he yanked his wallet out of his back pocket and flung some dollars on the counter to pay the bill. He stood, his legs trembling so hard he had to grab the counter for balance. Why couldn’t he stroll out the door, get into his truck, and never see her again?

He had to get out of here!

Realizing hairs had sprouted from his chin, he wiped his sweaty face with the paper napkin. His canines had lengthened, too, pricking his tight bottom lip. No, his transformation couldn’t happen. Not now. But he knew, deep in his bones, the beautiful woman striding back into the room was
her
.

His mate.

After sitting, he picked up a nearby newspaper and hid his face while he composed himself back to full human form. He even breathed through his mouth so her scent wouldn’t drive him crazy. At least the smell of the cheeseburger Paul set in front of her helped mask it.

“Hey, do you know of any places to stay here?” she asked Ogden after taking a hearty bite of her burger. “I didn’t see any motels on the way in.”

Watching her lick ketchup off her finger mesmerized him too much to answer right away.

“Gee Rivermoon rents rooms on the second floor of this bar, but he’s full up. A bed and breakfast is being renovated, but it isn’t open yet.”

“Then I guess I’ll park my truck somewhere and sleep in it.”

She was definitely no prissy female. The thought of keeping her warm in the back of her red SUV made his muscles tingle with the urge to shift again.

“There’s a shed on my land. It’s not in very good shape, but it would be a roof over your head,” he blurted out.

The wind kicked up outside, making the siding creak. He couldn’t leave a lone woman out in the weather to fend for herself, especially if she was his mate.

“Well, maybe for tonight, anyway.” She finished her burger and paid the bill. “Thanks.”

“You can follow me,” he said as they both stood. “I’m heading there.”

Was he out of his mind? He’d invited trouble to his doorstep, and he had a terrible feeling he’d never be the same again. Maybe when she saw what a dump his shed was, she’d hightail it back to wherever she came from.

***

Lara followed the tired-looking pickup truck in her SUV. Keeping up with it was no trouble. She could have run it over.

This is my mate? Please, say it isn’t so.

Surely, her mother hadn’t sent her on an eight-hour drive to find a boring workhorse.
Ogden
. Even his name was dull. From the looks of the brown, silver-tipped whiskers, which temporarily sprouted on his face, he’d almost shifted in the restaurant. As the last Dominant of the Lamar Canyon Pack, she could sure do a lot better than someone who couldn’t even control his shifts.

He worked with wood. Hardly the warrior she needed to help fight her battle in Lamar Canyon. Not a battle—a war—against the gun-toting ranchers who had killed her mother and over half her pack. She didn’t need help, anyway. What could he possibly do for her? Build a doghouse?

Maybe her real mate lived in some other part of this lame town. But she knew better. His blue gaze—peaceful and intense at the same time—had probed straight into her soul in Hee Haw’s Bar, or whatever it was called.

Okay, he was sexy in a rugged, blue-collar kind of way. His chestnut-brown hair begged to be tousled. The slight silver at his temples and sun-weathered face made him look well seasoned. She’d had the urge to hop onto his lap instead of eating her cheeseburger. The faded denim clothes he wore looked ragged enough to fall off and reveal the rest of his tanned, strong body.

Heat pooled between her thighs. Although she couldn’t see him as her mate, she wouldn’t mind scratching her itch for a night—for fun. It would sure beat seducing those slimy ranchers at bars in Wyoming to get them to stop killing wolves.

But if he was her mate, having sex with him would seal the bond between them and there’d be no getting rid of him. Hopefully, he didn’t want a commitment either.

She followed as he turned off the main road.
If you can call it a road
. They passed Los Lobos Lumber, which must be his mill. The secondary road snaking past it was in even worse shape than the main one.

After one too many bone-jarring potholes, he stopped at a cute log cabin in the woods. Not far from it stood a rough-looking shed, which was probably her lodging.

When they got out of their vehicles, he walked through the front door without inviting her into his house. She followed and looked around inside, curious how the stranger lived. Most everything was made of wood, including the log walls, and the homey atmosphere surprised her. Gingham curtains hung at the windows. The open space included a cozy loft at one end and a big stone fireplace on the other.
And, I’ll be damned, even the proverbial fur rug in front of it
. The kitchen area had a pantry with enough food to survive an apocalypse.

The place was made for love. Because they were alone together, the tingles she’d felt earlier intensified. He smelled like cedar, warm and spicy.

“Nice place,” she said.

“I call it home.” A proud smile lit his face. “I’ll get some bedding together for you.”