Wolf's Oath (After the Crash 3.25) (9 page)

She collected flatware and a plate and moved to the serving window. A teen-aged boy was there, looking crabby with his full-lipped mouth in a pout and his thick brows pulled low. She lifted her plate for him to fill. His pout spread into a smile, a charming, bright expression that made him pretty. His boney shoulders were wide, showing the promise of a strong physique. He was going to be a very handsome young man in a few years.

“Good morning!” he said. “Ham and eggs? Fried potatoes?”

“Yes, please. Coffee?”

His face twisted slightly, as if the thought of coffee made him sick. “Nope. Don’t have any. Tea?”

She’d gotten spoiled, drinking the coffee given to Katie and
JaNae
by their admirers. “Sure.”

Des crowded close behind her and put a hand on her hip. “Give me a double helping, Jelly.”

The kid’s mouth blossomed in a sunny smile. “Wore yourself out last night. Need to refuel?”

“Don’t get mouthy or you’ll be on kitchen duty for another week,” Des growled.

The kid tipped his head back to show his throat in what Connie assumed was submission. Didn’t dogs do that to avoid a fight? Des gave a satisfied grunt. Connie took her heaping plate and cup back to the table. Renee slid her chair over a few inches to give Connie more room.

“Good morning,” she said, looking at Connie’s plate with a critical eye.

“I think that kid gave me too much,” Connie said apologetically.

“What?” Renee looked up with confused eyes that cleared after a blank moment. “Oh. No. I’ve been trying to teach these guys to serve the food with a tiny bit of artistry. Look at that mess.” She flipped a finger at Connie’s plate. “Scrambled eggs shoveled onto the middle of the plate. Slice of ham flopped any which way. Toast stacked on top. It’s an unappetizing jumble. Food, even plain food, must be presented tastefully. And—”

Bobby Hawk in Flight cut her off with a gentle kiss over the angry scars on the side of her face. “Yes, love,” he said mildly. “But wolf-born don’t care what their food looks like. They just want to eat. You can make it different at the restaurant.”

Renee shoved her thick dark hair behind her ear. “Yes, I’ve been training the women. Liz and Sammie dress a plate exceptionally well.” She turned her attention to Connie. “Our restaurant will give patrons something they’ve never had. It will be more than just good food. The food will be superb, of course, but they will be getting a full dining experience.”

Des came to the table and rested a light hand on Connie’s shoulder for a moment. Her throat tightened with gratitude. It was thanks to Des that Renee would have a restaurant to cook for. Des put his plate on the table and sat down. Renee stared at his plate, which held a pile of food twice as high as Connie’s. Renee turned to Connie with an earnest expression.

“At the Plane Women’s Eatery we must validate our prices not by the quantity of food, but by the quality of the experience.”

Connie dug into her eggs. “You bet. You and Kathy can figure all that out. You’re a chef and she managed a restaurant. I’ll trust you two to decide what’s best.”

Renee looked satisfied when she turned back to her breakfast. Des leaned close to whisper in Connie’s ear. “That’s good delegation skills, and you let her see you have confidence in her judgment.”

She chewed the eggs and swallowed. “Hell, that was pure honesty. I don’t know anything about running a restaurant, but she does. I’d just screw it up.”

Des ran the back of one finger down her cheek. “My mate. Beautiful and wise.”

Tracker came into the dining hall and threaded through the tables to sit silently next to Stag at the neighboring table. Connie remembered his one brief visit to the Plane Women’s House. He and Tami had sat in front of a stove, neither of them speaking more than a word or two, apparently perfectly content to sit in silence. They made a good couple.

Connie was almost done with her breakfast when Tami joined her new husband, and Tracker’s face changed in the subtlest of ways. She watched a barely noticeable warmth come over his narrow, cold features. Tami’s smile was quiet but obvious. Connie glanced sideways at Des, wondering what their faces said about them.

Father John entered the dining hall. She nudged Des. “We should tell the priest thank you for performing the wedding yesterday.”

Des grunted. “Why?”

“Why? Because it’s polite. Aren’t you happy that he was here to marry us?”

Des put down his fork to really look at her. “The words didn’t matter to me. You’re my mate. Even if you’d never accepted my mate claim, you would always be my mate.”

“Even if I’d married someone else?”

A hint of steel firmed his face, then died. “Even then. A wolf chooses only one woman. But if the priest made you happy by speaking words over us, then I’m happy.”

Connie swallowed the last of her tea. They had been married less than a day, but already she couldn’t imagine having anyone else for a husband. “I don’t want anyone else.”

The words came out without her intention. She shifted in her chair, twisting her mug around and around on the table. She cleared her throat and spoke as quietly as she could, knowing he would hear her.

“I mean, if things had worked out differently, and the mayor gave me to someone else…” She cleared her throat again. “I don’t think I would have been this happy.”

When she chanced a peek at him, she saw his grim expression relaxed into tenderness. “I’ll get you more tea,” was all he said, but the brush of his knuckles over her cheek was gentle, an unspoken declaration of his love.

Only a short time later, a commotion jerked everyone’s heads up. Sherry was standing by the priest, but she stumbled back when Stag jumped up and yelled, “No! You will
not
be alone with him!”

Sherry lost her footing and fell, her cane clattering away. Stag rushed to help her, but she cringed away from him, crying. He looked so hurt Connie felt a pang of sympathy for him. Did Sherry honestly believe the man who had so gently courted her for two months would hurt her?

Connie got up from her seat and went to Sherry, followed by Carla. Tami joined them. “Don’t move, Sherry,” Connie said. “Let’s see if you’ve hurt anything.”

A quick pass of her hands over Sherry’s legs and hips didn’t reveal anything. “Does it hurt anywhere?”

“No,” Sherry whispered. She shot a fearful glance at Stag, standing a few feet away with Des, and wiped the tears from her face with a shaky hand.

Carla and Tami helped her sit up. Carla spoke the words that Connie was thinking. “Don’t you think you’re being mean to Stag? Do you really think he would hurt you?”

“You don’t understand,” Sherry said through the hands covering her face. “My husband has been dead only a few months. Sometimes I miss him so much I wish I had died too.”

Tami exchanged a glance with Connie. “Maybe you should talk to Jodi and Dixie,” she suggested. “They were able to help me.”

Sherry nodded slowly, looking absolutely wretched. “Maybe I should. I’m so scared and confused, and I hurt so much.”

Connie’s sympathies swerved to Sherry. How tough would it be to lose the man you loved in such a horrible way, and then find yourself in a completely different world? She lost some sympathy when Sherry hissed, “But Stag’s an
animal
!”

Connie scratched her nose to give herself a minute to get her sarcasm under control. “Yeah. I don’t see the problem in that, myself. Stag seems like a good guy. You should give him a chance, but I guess that’s your call. Ready to stand?”

She and Tami got Sherry to her feet. Carla handed Sherry the cane Stag had made for her. Sherry’s eyes were pools of black ink when she looked at Stag. He stood facing her, shoulders rigid, as if he were braced for a body blow.

“You don’t have the right to keep me from the comfort of my faith,” Sherry said in a clear low voice. “If I want to make confession to the priest while he’s here, I will! I’ll talk to him anywhere I want.” She used the handkerchief Tami held out to her to wipe her nose with a militant sniff. “I need some time, Stag. Time to talk to the counselors. I need time to figure out what is happening in my life. My head is so crazy right now that I don’t know what I feel. I can’t talk to you right now, but after I get things figured out, I will. I’ll talk to you then.”

“That sounds good.” Stag’s voice was hoarse. His shoulders relaxed and he took a half step closer to Sherry. “I would never hurt you, Sherry. Never!”

The elderly lady everyone called The Grandmother of the Lakota walked over to Sherry and put a frail, wrinkled hand on her shoulder. Her voice wavered with age. “Tell the priest to come to my room after he finishes his breakfast. He can hear Sherry’s confession there.”

Connie watched the two women leave the dining hall and a sick ball of goo settled in her stomach when she realized the Grandmother was younger than she was. She went back to her seat at the head table and picked up her tea.

Des seemed to know something was bothering her.

“What is it, Connie?” he rumbled.

Her smile felt crooked. “I’m old.”

His eyes widened slightly. “What?”

“How old is the Grandmother?”

He glanced at Taye. “I don’t know. Maybe eighty?”

Carla answered. “Seventy-eight.”

Connie sighed. “She’s nine years younger than I am.”

Des leaned forward to kiss her. “You’re too old for a youngster like me, then.”

A reluctant snort of laughter escaped her. “Every time you make a joke, you crack me up.” His look of confusion seemed honest. She kissed him back. “Never mind.”

“I’ll be talking to Taye and others this morning. I thought we’d go back to the House after lunch, if that suits you.”

She nodded. “Sure, that suits me.”

He kissed her again, a long, lingering kiss. “I’ll see you at lunch, then.”

She watched him leave, his ass high and tight in the worn sweatpants, the muscles in his bare back moving smoothly beneath brown skin. He was gorgeous.

Rose, the teenager who had survived the plane crash, said, “Do you really like him?”

Connie jerked her head around and gave her a hard stare. “Of course I like him.”

The girl looked a little abashed, but persisted. “Why do you like him?”

Grown men had slunk off under that stare. Connie wondered if she was losing her touch. She turned back to her tea, ignoring the question.

The teenager persevered. “Is it because he’s handsome?”

“No!” Connie snapped. “It’s because he’s nice, and he treats me like an equal, instead of some stupid woman that he wants to keep barefoot, pregnant, and in the kitchen.”

“Oh.” Rose’s head sank, her eyes staring down at the tabletop. “Is it nice when he kisses you?”

This time she seemed to feel the impact of Connie’s stare, because she muttered, “Sorry. Just wondering.”

“Want to come into the rec room?” Carla asked brightly. “There’s a fire there.”

Rose said, “Be there in a sec. I’ll take our plates to the kitchen first.”

Connie thought it was a strategic retreat on the teenager’s part. She followed Carla across the hall to the rec room. The scent of the pine tree raised memories of past Christmases. When she was a child, her mother always managed to find a real tree for them, even when the family was stationed overseas. As an adult in Iraq and Afghanistan, she hadn’t had a real tree, but the tiny silver tinsel one she had bought in college had gone with her from place to place. She remembered Paul laughing at its battered branches with gentle mockery while she pretended to be offended.

She lifted a hand to brush her earrings and felt emotion well up in her when she remembered Des’ acceptance of them this morning. Rose asked why she liked him, and that was one of the biggest reasons. She had seen enough of the wolves with their mates to know that were almost pathologically possessive. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d ripped the earrings out of her ears and thrown them away. Instead he told her to wear them to honor Paul.

Carla was working with yarn and tiny sticks in her big leather chair by the fire. Connie shrugged the incipient tears back and sat in the chair next to hers. Carla glanced at her quickly, then back at her knitting.

“Rose didn’t mean to offend you,” she said.

Connie shrugged. “I wasn’t exactly offended. Seems like a strange thing for her to ask about though.”

“I think she’s trying to decide how she feels about Sky. His wolf chose her to be his mate.”

“Yeah, I remember when he exploded at the House when that man sat too close to Rose. Aren’t they a little young?”

Carla nodded, barely looking at her work while her fingers looped yarn around the needles. “Rose is sixteen, and Sky is seventeen. That day, Sky was furious. When they came back to the den, he kissed Rose, even though she tried to get away from him.”

“I heard about that too. Rotten thing for him to have done, but I have to admit, I had a laugh over it.”

Carla smiled. “Looking back, it was funny. But Sky didn’t laugh. He left the den to go to Omaha to work. I think Rose might be a little disappointed that he didn’t come back for Christmas.”

Connie heard light footsteps in the hall and the teenager came into the rec room. She sat in the chair on the other side of Carla and pulled a tote bag from under the chair. “You were talking about me,” she accused with dignity, winding yarn around her finger.