Her red hair secured in a bun, Lelandi had on the professional navy-blue business jacket and skirt she wore for seeing her psychology clients. Her eyes were clear green, unlike Elizabeth’s more blue-green, but the two women looked similar in terms of height and hair color. Elizabeth was finer boned, probably due to her coyote ancestry.
“You really didn’t have to go to all of this trouble for me,” Elizabeth said, feeling more like an intruder in the family business than anything.
“Nonsense. Usual fare. Think nothing of it. We’re delighted to have you stay with us.”
The welcome was in Lelandi’s voice, though Elizabeth also heard something else—a pack leader’s declaration: You will stay with us for your protection. Elizabeth was used to being independent and on her own, so she wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
The whole home was warm and welcoming, with soft velour couches and chairs, pale yellow painted walls, and a massive stone fireplace where a fire crackled and red-orange flames spiraled upward. An extra cushiony beige carpet was underfoot, and dark, polished wood beams crisscrossed a high ceiling.
But something more than its physical appearance made the home inviting.
Elizabeth could sense the feel of family here, unlike in her own home. She felt safe there from her pack, but she realized there was something to be said for having a family. Her home was isolated, singular, and if she admitted it to herself, lonely.
A blue-eyed blonde came out of another room and greeted her, smiling broadly and with her hand extended. Another red wolf. Elizabeth was astounded to see two of them here. Maybe red she-wolves, in particular, appealed to this group of grays, she thought.
“I’m Carol McKinley, a nurse. I’ve been told you’ve had a rough time of it, so if you’re ready, I’ll take you up to your room. You can lie down for a bit until we eat dinner.”
Lelandi smiled. “We’ll see you a little later. Get some rest, Elizabeth.”
Again, the pack leader had decided. Not that Elizabeth didn’t appreciate the “offer.” She was all too glad to lie down for a while.
“Thanks.” Elizabeth glanced at Tom. He dipped his head, letting her know he approved of the idea.
She didn’t really need his approval, but she wanted him to know she cared about his feelings. When did that get to be an issue?
He ran his hand over her shoulder in a tender caress. “Feel better,” he said emphatically, his gaze on hers.
“I’ll be a hundred percent before you know it.”
He smiled a little at that, and she wasn’t sure if he thought she was joking. “I will,” she insisted, then headed for the stairs with Carol.
“You will,” Carol said, repeating Elizabeth’s words like a mantra. “Half the fight is taking a positive stance.”
“The other half is having genetics that help us to heal faster,” Elizabeth said.
Carol laughed as they climbed the stairs. “I have to admit that’s the thing I love best about being a wolf. I’m a red wolf, too. Newly turned.”
“Oh.” She wondered if Carol wasn’t used to everyone knowing what everyone was just by smell. She didn’t know what to say to Carol about having been turned, since Elizabeth herself had turned a human—and that had worked out very badly. Taking her mind off that scenario, she tried to look at the photographs of mountain wildflowers hanging on the walls.
She didn’t know all the flowers’ names, but some were lavender-colored, growing at the base of an alpine grove, and others were pink. She did recognize the purple thistle and golden dandelions. “Did Jake take these?” Elizabeth asked.
“He sure did. Beautiful, aren’t they?”
“They are.” Maybe Elizabeth could interview him for her newspaper, even if the story was really about a wolf. One hazard of working for the paper was always trying to come up with human-interest stories.
Carol led Elizabeth to a bedroom and motioned to it. “This is your guest room while you stay here. I used it until I mated with Ryan. His full name is Chester Ryan McKinley, and he’s the pack leader in Green Valley. I’m sure you’re probably sore from your fall. Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll apply some ice.”
“Okay,” Elizabeth said, sitting on the mattress.
Antique tables sat on either side of the queen-sized bed, the comforter satiny gold with embroidered designs of gold and moss green. An antique armoire stood in one corner and a small dresser against one wall, making the room appear rich, elegant, and out of the past. Elizabeth liked it. Nothing of hers was older than a couple of years, and the antique furniture appealed to her. She’d had to move so often that she hadn’t been able to keep any of her older treasured possessions.
Lelandi came into the room carrying a pair of jeans and white socks. “Thought you might like to get out of your ski pants for now.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth said.
“I’ll leave you to nap,” Lelandi said and hurried out of the room.
Elizabeth did feel more comfy in the change of clothes. She tried to get comfortable on the bed, but she ached all over. She definitely needed a good night’s sleep.
After she rolled onto her stomach, Carol put a soothing ice pack on her back. Elizabeth fidgeted, unused to being treated so pleasantly, and by red wolves of all people!
“You know I’m part coyote, right? A lot of wolves—well, at least in my father’s wolf pack—don’t like that I am,” Elizabeth warned Carol.
She didn’t know why she had to blurt out to Carol that she wasn’t a full-blooded wolf. Maybe because she really liked Carol already, and she didn’t want her to think Elizabeth was something she wasn’t.
“Well, they have the nerve,” Carol said.
Obviously, Carol didn’t realize how much animosity there could be between coyotes and wolves. Elizabeth didn’t know why, but suddenly she really wanted to talk to someone about everything she had been keeping in. “They think they’re better than coyotes. My mother was a coyote and a lovely person before she was… murdered. The wolves of my father’s pack were no better than my mother just because they were wolves.”
Elizabeth never talked to anybody about her past. Better to bury it and move on. Until North called her and told her he had the proof she needed to show her uncle was responsible for her parents’ deaths. If Bruin had still been running things, it wouldn’t have mattered. He might have even ordered her parents’ deaths.