Ack!! I’m sorry this is so late. Two books that’ I’ve been dying to read came out today and I got sucked in so deep I forgot to post the teaser. Sorry!

The move has kept me very busy, so I haven’t written lately. In fact, last night was the first writing I’ve done in more than two weeks. This isn’t very long, but at least I’ve added a few hundred more words to the file. Off to bed now!

Gina stifled a laugh. “OK. Cole.  Are you the wolf? Or is the wolf you? It’s kind of confusing.”

He thought about how to explain it to her. “The wolf and I are two different people. In the Lakota Wolf Clan many boys are born with the spirit of a wolf within them. When the boy hits puberty, the wolf sort of wakes up. He forces the boy to let him out, and then the spirit wolf because a real wolf and the boy is a spirit inside the wolf. The boy has to learn to control the wolf. If he can’t control the wolf, he can’t force the wolf to go back to being a spirit. Then the boy isn’t human anymore. Do you understand?”

She gently shook her head. “Not really.”

He wasn’t surprised. Lots of women who mated wolves didn’t completely comprehend something they had never experienced. “Let’s not worry about that now.” He had no memory of the past week. The wolf had been in control and it chilled him how close he had come to losing himself to the wolf. “I’ll try to explain more when you are warm and rested. Look, the farm house is less than a mile ahead of us.”

“Oh, hurry.”

He ran. With his wolf’s speed, it took only a few minutes to arrive at the fence that circled the yard around the house. The wind his pace created caused his mate to turn her face into his throat. Her breath on his skin was the most wonderful sensation he had ever experienced. Tenderness flooded him, followed swiftly by a fierce desire to protect her. If she hadn’t been in desperate need of more warmth than he could provide, he would have run with her in his arms for hours.

As soon as Cole stopped at the fence, a pack of dogs tore out of two sheds, howling an alert that strangers were approaching. The fence was made of wood and wire, obviously more to keep the farm animals in than to keep intruders out. Although he wanted to leap the fence and rush his mate to the warmth of the kitchen, Cole stood with Gina in his arms waiting for the farmer to make an appearance. Better to wait than have Gina shot.

The farmer came out of the barn in less than ten seconds. His gray-streaked brown hair and lined face made Cole estimate his age to be around sixty. As expected, he held a shotgun at the ready and shielded himself half behind the barn door. Cole approved the farmer’s caution.

“Who is it?” he shouted over the dogs’ barking. “What do you want?”

“I’m Cole Wolfe,” he shouted back. “My wife is freezing. Please, can I bring her inside to get warm?”

The farmer didn’t answer immediately. After a pause, he said, “She’s freezing? You’re buck naked, boy, and it ain’t August, you know.”

Cole considered making up a story about thieves who had stolen his clothes but discarded the idea. Gina’s arm was tight around his neck, so he focused on what was important. “That doesn’t matter. Please, let her in. I can stay out here if it would make you feel better.”

There was another long pause before the farmer stepped away from the door and approached them. He stopped a wary distance away. Cole noted the shotgun wasn’t aimed at them but it would take only a tiny move to lift the barrel in their direction. His eyes matched the gray streaks in his hair as he looked them over thoroughly. Cole found himself tensing when the stranger looked at his mate. His wolf didn’t like another man looking at their mate. The chattering of Gina’s teeth seemed to decide the man.

“You folks better come in.” He gestured with the shotgun toward the house. “You go on to the door at the left. Stop there. I’ll follow you until then, but I’ll go in first to let my wife know you’re guests.”

Cole waited for the man to open the gate and step back, shotgun held casually ready, before walking through and following the path through the snow to the house. The man might be overreacting. Gina was clearly no threat, and he was obviously not hiding any weapons, but he respected a man who took his wife’s safety seriously. He obediently paused below the three shallow steps leading to the door and let the man slip past him. The farmer closed the door, but Cole could hear him speaking inside, explaining to his wife that they had odd visitors and one of them needed pants to be decent enough to come into her kitchen. Cole glanced down at himself, but his mate blocked the view of his nakedness. He hauled her closer to his warmth.

“Soon,” he told her softly. “Soon you’ll be warm.”

“Can’t wait,” she said. “You can put me down now.”

He held her tighter. “No, not yet.”

The door swung open. The scent of frying ham poured out of the warm house. The farmer stood there, a wad of blue fabric in one hand. He held the fabric out to Cole. “You get dressed before you come in. I’ll take your wife.”

A snarl burst from Cole’s throat. The man stepped back, revealing a woman. She resolutely kept her eyes on his face. Her expression went from coolly polite to shocked. She clapped her hand over her mouth.

“John,” she said quickly, “don’t touch her.” She turned appealing eyes to Cole. “We won’t take your mate away from you. Please put her down here in the mudroom and put the jeans on.”

Her husband gave her a suspicious look. “You know him?”

“No, but I know who he is. What he is.” She gave Cole a smile. “I’m Nikki from the Plane Women’s House.”

Moving is such a lot of fun, isn’t it? Yeah. My immediate move has been changed to this weekend. By immediate I mean my bed, TV, desk, computers (one for me and my writing and one for the day job) toiletries, etc. This week is devoted to cleaning my old room at my mom’s and sorting through my stuff here to see what I want to bring to mom’s, what I want to store, what I want to donate and what I want to throw away. I spent about 3 hours tonight going through about half of my craft stuff. This is hard!

It also means I’m too tired to do any writing. I’m afraid there may not be a Tuesday Teaser next week. Maybe you’ll get a Tuesday Truth instead 😉 Or maybe i’ll post a few of the vintage family photos that my brother unearthed when he was clearing out the storage room to make room for some of my stuff. My grandparents were married in 1919. That’s almost 100 years ago! I love that stuff.

While I’m busy sorting and packing, you can read the next little bit from Gina and Colby’s story.  Oh, and from now on he wants to be called Cole. He said colby is a kind of cheese. Not cool. LOL

“Colby!” she shrieked. “I’m freezing. I’m tired of following a stupid wolf who won’t even talk to me. Are you in there?”

The wolf trotted on. She ground her teeth to keep them from chattering. You wanted to escape, she reminded herself. Don’t be a baby. Freezing to death was preferable to marrying Jon, Tanner, and whoever else in Falls City. Colby would take care of her as soon as he decided they were safe. She just had to be patient and keep moving. At least he has a thick fur coat to wear. That envious sarcasm was her last thought before she tripped over something and tumbled into the comfort of darkness.

Chapter Three

The wolf heard the woman fall from the lip of the hill he led her along. In a single bound, he leaped to the edge of the slope. She rolled and bounced several body lengths to the narrow stream at the bottom of the hill, and then lay still on the ice, her arms and legs splayed. A whine rose in the wolf, driven by terror. His terror? The man’s? The wolf wasn’t sure. He dashed down the slope. Before he reached her, he caught the scent of her blood. Injured. His mate was injured. The wolf didn’t like that. His mate should never know pain.

She slept. Like the man within him, she wouldn’t wake. He nosed at her face. No response. He pawed her shoulder. Nothing. Blood oozed from a cut on her forehead. He licked it to stop the bleeding. He licked it and licked it, and the bleeding slowed, but she didn’t wake. The man could pick her up and carry her to safety, if he would just wake up. This was their mate who needed help. He blasted all his fear and anger in one internal shriek: Wake up!

There was a sluggish response, more of a groan than a word.

Our mate is dying! the wolf screamed at the man inside. If you don’t help her, we’ll lose her forever. Wake up!

Deep inside, the man stirred. The wolf felt his growing alarm and urged him forward by shoving images of their mate: her unconscious body lying over the crusty ice, her blood welling from the cut at her hairline to stain the ice beneath her, the blue tinge to her lips. That galvanized the man. Like a mighty wind blowing over the prairie, he rose and shoved the wolf back. Relieved, the wolf retreated.

Colby fell to his knees as pain crashed over him. He didn’t know where he was. This empty bit of scrubby land was completely unknown to him. He didn’t know why he was here or how he had gotten here. The place where his memories should be was a gaping black hole. He caught himself with one hand on the ice and put his other hand over his head to try to still the pain. A scent came to him that even a black hole couldn’t wash from his memory. Gina. Mate.

She lay before him in a bedraggled party dress. Where was her coat? He let go of his head to lay a hand over her cheek. Cold. She was so cold. He gathered her close.

“Miss Gina?”

His voice was a hoarse croak. He coughed and tried again. “Miss Gina!”

He eyelashes fluttered. “C-co-cold.”

“Yes, darling.” Gently he propped her against his chest and guided her hands into his armpits. Wrapping his arms around her to enclose as much of her as possible in his warmth, he looked around.  There was nothing to see but snow, ice-crusted dead grass, and some scrubby trees. The position of the stars told him it was a few hours after midnight, but did nothing to pinpoint their location. Why were they out in the middle of nowhere?

“Where are we?” he asked her.

“How would I know?” Her voice squeaked with outrage. “You made me follow you out here. Don’t you know?”

He didn’t reply. “Is this Nebraska?”

“Probably.” She pushed her face more deeply into his chest and flinched. “My head hurts.”

“Mine, too. We can’t stay here. We need to get you warm.”

As she whimpered agreement, he carefully stood, balancing her in his arms like a mother with a baby.  Flattened grass and scattered snow showed where they had come from. Climbing the steep, ten foot slope made his head jangle with pain. Once on top he searched the landscape for a camp, or a house, or anything that would help his mate. He read the tracks on the top of the hill well enough. His wolf had been leading the way when his mate fell down the slope. He looked in the direction the tracks led. Where had the wolf been going? He tried to remember. There was nothing in his mind. He took deep breaths to calm his panic. Since no better plan came to him, he continued in the wolf’s direction.

“Where are we going?” his mate demanded.

“There is a farmhouse ahead.”

That was only a guess, but a good one. To their left were straight furrows under the snow, indications that this land was under cultivation. The stream on their right would provide water to irrigate crops. Dawn was only a couple of hours away. Soon the farmwife would light the stove to cook breakfast. He would scent the smoke and find the house.

“Thank God. I’m so cold, Colby.” The stars gleamed in her pale blue eyes. He stared down at her, captivated by her beauty. Her eyes frowned slightly as she pulled a hand from under his arm and raised it to the side of his head, but she tucked it back without touching him. “Colby, are you alright? You were shot. I could see the gash on the wolf, but you don’t have a scar.”

He had been shot? Blurred, shadowy memories tried to form, but faded away before he could grasp them. “What has happened in the past week?” he inquired.

She drew a quivery breath. “Nothing much. Not until today. My stepfather probably made me wait that long to torture me.”

A growl vibrated in his chest. “Your stepfather tortures you?”

“Not physically. Mentally. He called for me this afternoon. Or maybe it was yesterday afternoon. He told me I was going to marry the Allersens. They’re from Falls City—”

“You can’t,” he interrupted fiercely. “You are my mate.”

She laughed bitterly. “Tell him that.”

His voice came out flat. “I will.”

She laughed again. “Hopefully we’ll never see him again.”

He silently swore she never would. “Tell me more.”

“Well, my wedding date was set for the first of May, and I would go immediately to the Brotherhood Commune in Falls City.”

“And? How did we end up out here?”

She lifted her head from his throat to look at him. “You really don’t know?”

He shook his head and regretted it. “No, I don’t remember. Normally I remember everything when the wolf is out, but I have no recent memories in my head right now.”

His mate put her face down again. “After supper I went to the outhouse. When I came out the soldier who escorted me was bleeding on the ground and you, that is, the wolf made me leave camp with him. We walked all night.”

“Where’s your coat?” He rubbed his hand along her bare arm. His body heat was something, but not enough. “You’re very cold.”

“The president gave orders that I couldn’t wear a coat. He probably thought that would keep me from running away. I guess he was wrong.” She paused. “Um, Colby?”

Hearing her speak his name made him forget the pain in his head. “Call me Cole. My mom named me Colby, but that is a cheese. I like Cole better.”

She stifled a laugh. “OK. Cole.  Are you the wolf? Or is the wolf you? It’s kind of confusing.”

He thought about how to explain it to her. “The wolf and I are two different people. In the Lakota Wolf Clan many boys are born with the spirit of a wolf within them. When the boy hits puberty, the wolf sort of wakes up. He forces the boy to let him out, and then the spirit wolf because a real wolf and the boy is a spirit inside the wolf. The boy has to learn to control the wolf. If he can’t control the wolf, he can’t force the wolf to go back to being a spirit. Then the boy isn’t human anymore. Do you understand?”

She gently shook her head. “Not really.”

He wasn’t surprised. Lots of women who mated wolves didn’t completely comprehend something they had never experienced. “Let’s not worry about that now.” He had no memory of the past week. The wolf had been in control and it chilled him how close he had come to losing himself to the wolf. “I’ll try to explain more when you are warm and rested. Look, the farmhouse is only a mile ahead of us.”

“Oh, hurry.”

He ran.

Happy Tuesday!

Yesterday was my mom’s birthday. She’s in her mid-80s, and she has dementia. She does pretty well, but she really can’t live on her own. My oldest brother lives with her but she doesn’t really want her son to wash her hair, etc, and she doesn’t want a stranger to come in and do it. And even if she’s known you for years, you’re a stranger to her. So at the end of March I will be putting my stuff in storage and moving home.

Frankly, I don’t want to. I like living on my own and it’s been decades since I lived at home. I don’t want to share a bathroom with my brother. 🙁  However, the next door neighbor’s infatuation with his subwoofer is changing my mind about that. Mom’s house will be relatively quiet. I think I’ll be able to write there. Here, I give up after about an hour and have only 100 words written. In the long run, I think this move is the best thing.

I did manage some words this week. Here is the second half of Chapter 2:

After the meal, the ladies were excused so the men could put their heads together and lay their plans. Gina would have loved to linger and listen, but her mother firmly ushered her out. At least she didn’t have to put up with Tanner and Jon anymore. As the cluster of women approached the harem tent, she turned away from them.

“Georgina?” her mother said sternly.

“I need to use the facilities,” she said airily.

One of the guards flanking the door flap halted her. “Beg pardon, Miss Todd,” he said diffidently. “The president has instructed us to escort you wherever you want to go.”

“I’m just going to the latrine.”

“Yes, Miss. I will escort you.” Even in the starlight she could see the blush that rose to his cheeks. “You’ll need to leave your wrap here, please.”

“But it’s cold.”

The blush darkened. “Yes, Miss. President’s orders.”

I won’t be likely to run away without something to keep me warm, she thought sarcastically. “Alright. Mom, will you take my shawl?”

Her mother took the wrap with a frown. “You have a chamber pot in the tent,” she began.

“I need some fresh air.”

With no wrap over her mostly bare shoulders, it really was cold. Gina hurried over the icy ground to the row of tents erected over the latrines. She wanted to escape. In fact, after dinner with Jon and Tanner, she was determined to escape. But running off with a guard hanging on her heels and without provisions or even a coat was impossible. And this young private –Carson? Carleton?—would be in big trouble if she ran away when he was guarding her. She would just be married off to a repulsive commune of misogynists; he would be executed.

She left him waiting a few respectful yards from the latrine tent and did her business as quickly as she could. When she came out of the tent she didn’t see him standing where she had left him. She glanced around, confused. On her second glance she focused on the ground, looking for tracks to show where he had gone, and that’s when she found him.

The gallant young private was a crumpled dark shape on the moonlit snow. A black shadow spilled over the snow around his head. She rushed forward. A large, dark animal sprung out of nowhere to block her path. It was a dog. No, not a dog. Gina squinted in the dim light, trying to ignore the leap of terror in her throat while identifying the animal. It was a wolf. A wolf? The huge head was level with her waist. Fangs gleamed ivory in a gaping maw. Gina froze, not even breathing. There were dark streaks on the teeth. Blood? Gina finally remembered to breathe.

Her scream died in her throat. The top of the broad head had no fur, only a raw place were blood had clotted. She had seen only one wolf up close in her life. She swallowed a shuddering breath.

“Colby?” she whispered.

The wolf moved to her, his eyes shining yellow in the dim light. She backed away. He kept coming. After a minute of retreating from his advance she realized he was herding her out of camp. She tried to side step. He moved with her, now using his heavy shoulder to force her to keep moving. It was too cold out here without a wrap. Her dress was thin, no protection from the wind. Her shoes were sturdier than her evening pumps, but still not warm enough She was sure the camp had guards around the perimeter. One of them would see her and … What? Rescue her? Send her back to Jon and Tanner? Shoot Colby? Ice that had nothing to do with the temperature slid down her spine. Or worse. They would capture Colby and turn him over to Major Ellis and her stepfather to torture.

Colby must have a camp. Hopefully he had something warm for her to put on there. This was her best chance of escape. She turned and allowed the wolf to push her out of camp.

Once it became clear she wouldn’t try to go back to camp, the wolf bounded a few steps in front and led her away from camp. Every few steps he turned his head to be sure she was still behind him. She turned her head too, to be sure no one was following them. It wouldn’t be long before she and the private were missed.

The private. Gina wrapped her arms around herself as she hurried behind the wolf. Was he dead? Cold seeped into her bones, the result of horror mixed with the frigid air around her. The private hadn’t done anything wrong, but the wolf murdered him. Maybe she was insane to be following this wolf through the dark. If she hadn’t seen him transform from a man to a wolf on the train with her own eyes, she wouldn’t have believed it. There really were werewolves, and Colby was one.

She tripped over a clod of frozen earth under the snow and hit her knees hard. The wolf dashed to her side and nipped her wrist.

“Hey!” She batted ineffectually at him. He responded by closing his mouth over her wrist and tugging.  She could feel his teeth against the bones in her wrist but he didn’t bite down. “Okay, okay, let go. I’m coming.”

She would have sworn she walked for hours behind the wolf. She grew colder with every step. When they came to the river, she realized they had walked at least five miles. It really had been hours, then.  The wolf growled low when she didn’t immediately slide down the bank. She held her arms close to her sides so he couldn’t nip her wrist again and cautiously went down to the river. The frozen river wouldn’t stop any pursuit, but it might slow them down. Where were the pursuers? She had expected them to catch up long before this. She made her way carefully over the river, the wolf trotting before her.

Without trees or hills, nothing blocked the wind on the surface of the frozen water.  Her teeth chattered as she laboriously pulled herself up the opposite bank. At the top, she fell. The wolf was there, sticking his furry face into her hers and growling.

“Colby,” she croaked. “I can’t. I just can’t.”

The wolf didn’t accept that. He put his massive shoulder into her side and pushed. She dragged herself to her feet and stood wavering, staring at the wolf.

“How much farther?” she asked.

The wolf growled and stepped past her to lead the way.

She trudged behind him. How cold was it? Forty degrees? Above freezing, so she couldn’t actually freeze, could she? She couldn’t feel her feet, though, and that couldn’t be good. Her upper arms and face stung with cold. At least the wind was dying down. The skirt of her satin dress wouldn’t be much protection, but she flipped it up to cover her shoulders, not caring if the wolf could see her underwear. Modesty was the least of her problems right now. Besides, it was a wolf. Colby had yet to make an appearance.

On and on they went through the cold night. Gina stopped looking back to check for pursuit. If her stepfather’s men caught up with them she might be grateful. They would wrap her in blankets and give her something warm to drink. Just the thought of it brought the threat of tears.

“Colby,” she called.

The wolf didn’t pause, but one of his ears cocked back as if to hear her better.

“Colby, how much farther?”

He didn’t answer.

“Colby!” she shrieked. “I’m freezing. I’m tired of following a stupid wolf who won’t even talk to me. Are you in there?”

The wolf trotted on. She ground her teeth to keep them from chattering. You wanted to escape, she reminded herself. Don’t be a baby. Freezing to death was preferable to marrying Jon, Tanner, and whoever else in Falls City. Colby would take care of her as soon as he decided they were safe. She just had to be patient and keep moving. At least he has a thick fur coat to wear. That bit of envious sarcasm was her last thought before she tripped over something and tumbled into the comfort of darkness.

Hello! I hope everyone is doing well. There has been a lot of flu and bad colds going around here. I have been immune in January, but I just got home from supper with a friend who says she is coming down with something. Glad to see her and spend time with her, but I was careful to not touch my hands to my face, and I was quick to wash my hands as soon as I got home. I already had the flu, thank you.  LOL

Here is the second half of Chapter One. As last time, this is raw. What you get in these Tuesday Teasers is the fast draft. In this first draft I tend to I dump info in blocks so I have it down. I go in later and break it up so the readers gets little bits here and there. But as I said, this is the raw version. Hope you can enjoy it anyway.  🙂

Oh, and isn’t her mom the best?  *cough* I keep trying to make her a more sympathetic character, but it isn’t working!

An hour later, Gina dug her fingernails into the thin mattress on her cot. “I can’t marry him—them,” she said in a furious whisper to her mother. “I can’t.”

“You can,” her mom countered. “And you must.”

Gina scowled at the tarp floor. Of course her mother would take his side. It probably wouldn’t change anything, but Gina tried to convince her. “Do you know how the men in Falls City treat their women? You can’t really call them wives. A man takes a number and when his number comes up, he gets to sleep with one of the women. The women have no choice. Is that what you want for me?”

“Of course not.” Her mom laid a hand on her forearm. “I wanted you to marry Stanton Ellis.”

Gian recoiled. “He’s a monster.” All too aware that the walls, being only canvas, didn’t keep sound from carrying, she lowered her voice. “Do you know what he does to stray dogs and cats? Torturing them is his hobby.” She shuddered, memories of coming across the remains of his hobby making her stomach turn. “I couldn’t marry him.”

“So you put everyone, including yourself, in danger by running away.” Her mother’s lips tightened. “I am very disappointed in you. The major wouldn’t have treated you badly. Your father wouldn’t allow it. If you had stayed in Kansas City instead of running away last summer, you would have been married and living close to me. Any friends you made in Omaha would be safe now. Instead, because your selfish willfulness forced your father to come looking for you, they will never live in peace again. That is on your head.”

Her mom stood up and went to the door flap. “Think about that, Georgina Anne. Your engagement supper will be served in one hour. Wear your nicest dress and don’t be late.”

Gina buried her face in the pillow until she heard the curtain that served as he door rustle closed. Her mother was right. Every person in the city of Omaha and the state of Nebraska were in danger because she had come to Omaha when she ran away last summer. Why hadn’t she thought of that? Or maybe she had, she admitted painfully, but cared more for her own freedom anybody else. Running away from Kansas City had been the bravest thing she’d ever done. Only now did she wonder if was also the stupidest.

But President Todd would have come to Omaha eventually. It was too prosperous a region for him to have ignored for long. She had only sped up the inevitable. She let out a long, trembling breath.  She hated him with every fiber of her being.

Nine years ago, when she was eleven years old, her father died. Less than a month later her mother had married Gerald Todd. Mr. Todd, as he been called then, already had a wife. Since there were far more men than women, women did sometimes marry more than one man. Gina thought that was disgusting, but if everyone was happy, it wasn’t any her business. But she had never of a man with more than one wife. A few years later her stepfather became the mayor of Kansas City. Most men would have been satisfied to be mayor, but Gerald Todd wanted to rule the world. And he wanted sons to follow in his footsteps. His first wife had no children. His second wife, her mother, had become pregnant several times but no child had been born alive. He married a third wife and took over all of Missouri. That wife never conceived. A couple of years ago, he expanded his power into parts of Kansas, where he found and married Shelley Parker. He pushed into Illinois and married his fifth wife, Suzanne Dent. None of his wives had delivered a living baby, but Shelley, the fifth Mrs. Todd, had recently discovered she was pregnant.

That was why they were still camped here outside Omaha. Todd didn’t want to have his precious unborn son face any risk. Traveling in March in a badly sprung truck lumbering over prairie that went from frozen earth to mud and back again would present some risk.

Then again, Todd was probably trying to provoke some response from Omaha that he could use as an excuse to attack them. So far he was keeping to the terms of the peace treaty Omaha had negotiated at the prisoner exchange, but that would last only as long as he wanted it to.

She rolled over on her back and put her arm over her eyes. Yeah, her mom was right. Her selfishness would cause her newly made friends in Omaha lots of trouble. People like Lachlan and Ceara McRoberts. When she had escaped from Kansas City – no easy thing, considering that everyone in the city knew who she was and that she wasn’t allowed to leave – she had disguised herself as a boy and hopped on a riverboat going north. When she disembarked in Omaha, she was tired, hungry and scared. Ceara has found her and given her a job in the coffee shop she owned with her husband. They had given her an attic room in their house to live in, a place at their table, and a small wage. Those were all good things, she was grateful for them, but the most important thing they gave her was a new life. No one in Omaha knew she was, so no one was frightened of her. No one hated her. No one tried to get close to her in order to curry favor with her stepfather. For seven months she’d had a good life. Now, her future didn’t look nearly so good.

Gina dressed for supper.

Tomorrow Strong Hearts comes out!!! I am going to post one last teaser from Brutus and Denise’s story.
Then next week I’ll begin giving you little tidbits from Gina and Colby’s story.

Young woman embracing man with naked muscular torso

Although I don’t think contemporary romance will ever be my favorite to write, I have to say I loved Brutus. He’s so big and mean looking, but he really does have a tender heart. At least for Denise, the heroine. I had a hard time deciding which pic to choose for the cover. I finally picked the one where they are embracing front to front.  But I’m including the other one so you can see how gorgeous Brutus’s chest is  🙂

These two are like real people. That is, they are good people, but they are human, and they have flaws. I hope you’ll give them a try.  🙂

Chapter Three

“Hey, Wolfe, it’s me.” Brutus squeezed the phone between his ear and shoulder while he dumped a scoop of dry food in Rowdy’s bowl. The dog looked at him like he was only minutes away from starvation. “There ya go. Good boy.”

“What?” said Wolfe.

“Not you. I was talking to the dog.” He dropped the plastic scoop into the trashcan he used to store Rowdy’s food and flipped the lid shut. “Hey, look, I was in Billie’s tonight and—”

Wolfe cut him off with a groan. “You got drunk and had another fight?”

“Oh, for … No! All I had was a cup of coffee, and I was there for only thirty minutes.”

He should have stayed longer, taken the opportunity to talk some more with Denise, but he had been so elated when she agreed to meet him at the game he hadn’t trusted himself to make sense during a conversation. Which reminded him of why he’d called his buddy.

“Look, I ran into that girl. Her name is Denise. The game was on at Billie’s, and it turns out she’s a big Rangers fan. So I asked her out to the game on Saturday.”

There was a moment of silence on the phone. “The game we’re going to on Saturday?”

“Uh, yeah. Could I buy your ticket from you?”

“I don’t know. I was looking forward to seeing the game.”

Brutus’s heart fell. “Aw, c’mon, Wolfe. The season is almost over, and there’s no way the Rangers can pull up enough to make the playoffs. Culver is pitching. It’s not like you’d be missing anything.”

A sigh came over the phone and Wolfe’s voice turned dreamy. “Except some quality time with my best bud.”

Brutus took the phone from his ear and stared at it. “The fuck?”

Wolfe’s snicker grew to a howl. “Gotcha.”

Brutus huffed a weak chuckle. “You suck.”

“Yeah, but you can have my ticket anyway. Hope you and Denise have a good time at the game.”

Denise left the National Guard Armory at half past four on Saturday. She had only two hours to get home, bolt down supper, change out of her uniform, shower, dress, and drive to Arlington to meet Brutus at the ballpark. She was met at the door by an eager Stella.

“I’ve got an interview right away Monday morning,” she reported.

“That’s great.” Denise tossed the words over her shoulder as she headed to her bedroom. Her uniform came off quickly, but she took the time to neatly hang it to wear again tomorrow.

Stella leaned on the doorjamb. “Would you like me to make you a sandwich?”

“I would love that. Thank you.”

She took the quickest shower of her life, blasted her hair with the blow dryer for two minutes, and put it up in its usual ponytail. She grabbed clean jeans and her Texas Rangers jersey and pulled them on. She snagged her Rangers ballcap, threading her ponytail through the gap in the back. When she went out to the kitchen, Stella stared at her.

“Is that what you’re wearing on your date?”

Her sister sounded horrified. Denise looked down at herself to be sure the jersey didn’t have a stain. “Yeah. Why?”

“No makeup?”

“I hardly ever wear makeup. Thanks for the sandwich.”

Stella poured some chips on the side on the paper plate. “You’re welcome. Are you sure about the makeup? I could do your eyes for you. Your eyes are real pretty. All you need is a bit of liner and mascara to bring them out.”

Oddly touched, Denise smiled. “Thanks, Stella. Maybe next time. We’re just going to the ballgame, and I’m running a little late.” She bit into her sandwich, surprised and pleased that the amount of mustard was just right. “Good sandwich.”

Denise’s phone rang.  She looked at the screen before answering. “Hi, mom, what’s up?”

“Denise, I haven’t talked to you in an age.”

“It’s a been a while.” Denise agreed. “I’m sort of busy right now.”

Stella opened the fridge. “Did you want a pickle?”

Her mom said, “Who was that?”

Denise jumped up. “No one.” She shook her head at Stella and edged out of the kitchen, pausing in the short hall.

“I heard a voice,” her mom said.

“It was the TV. Hey, I’m heading out to the Ranger’s game in a few minutes. Can’t talk now.”

“Well, alright. You give me a call sometime this week. We haven’t talked in too long.”

Denise agreed and hung up. Thank God she dodged that bullet. What her mom would say about Stella staying with her made Denise shudder. She went back to her sandwich and her sister.

There was a wrinkle between Stella’s pale brows. “Was that your mom? I heard her ask about me.  Why did you call me no one?”

Darn it, she needed to turn down the volume on her phone. “I didn’t. I mean, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You oughtn’t lie to your mama.”

Denise took a large bite of sandwich and attempted diplomacy. “Well, the thing is, mom would be unhappy if she knew you were here, and there’s no reason to cause her grief. She’s sort of crazy when it comes to the assh… er, your dad.”

Stella tilted her head to the side. “Daddy said she wouldn’t like it at all.”

Denise shoved a handful of chips into her mouth to prevent a sarcastic comment about her sperm donor. “Tell me about your job interview.”

Stella brightened. “Oh, I think it’s the perfect place for me. The hours are good, and the pay is reasonable. Not great, you know? But the tips ought to be real good. It’s at The Pink Pussycat Lounge.”

Denise swallowed with effort. “That’s a, uh …” She stalled, not sure what to say.

“It’s a gentlemen’s club. From what I’ve read, it’s a nice place. It’s in an old, historic part of town. Lots of rich tourists.” She must have seen the horror Denise tried to hide, because she giggled. “The position is for a waitress, not a topless dancer. It’s work I’ve done before. I’m good at it, too.”

That was work that Denise wouldn’t do in a million years. But Stella would never want to clean the kennels at the dog shelter. “Well, that’s great. I hope you get it.” Denise stood up and grabbed her keys. “Gotta go. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Have fun.”

The drive to Arlington took way too long. When she finally got to the stadium, the parking lot was filling up fast. She glanced at the clock on the dash. Twenty-five after six. She beat a pickup truck to a sliver of a spot. The truck never would have fit. Then she locked her car and bolted to the area Brutus said he would meet her.

The crowd was thick. At five-six, she wasn’t tiny, but she couldn’t see much but backs, shoulders and heads.

There he was.

His short brown hair was hidden under a Texas Rangers ballcap, but he was a head taller than most of the other people here. He stood against a wall, arms folded over his massive chest, like a colossus standing guard. She stood on tiptoe and waved to get his attention. She knew the exact moment he saw her. His face relaxed from a cold, granite mask to a warm smile. In that moment, even with his blunt, heavy features, he was almost unbearably handsome. In only a moment he’d plowed through the people jammed between them and came to her side.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” she said breathlessly.

He glanced at his wrist. “Only by two minutes.”

“Oh, good. Traffic was murder. I’m glad you’re so tall. I don’t know how I would have found you otherwise.”

His cheeks flared with color. “I’m a pretty big guy,” he said, looking away.

“Good thing, too,” she said brightly. “In a crowd like this I tend to get lost, so I’ll just stick to you like a leech, and you can get us where we need to go.”

His gaze flashed back to her face and a slow smile curved his lips. “Sounds good to me. Hang on.”

He grabbed her hand and towed her through the crowd. Most people got out of his way before he got to them. Denise laughed with delight as she watched people melt away from their path. People never did that for her, she always had to squirm and nudge people to get through a crowd. They got to the turnstiles and Brutus handed over their tickets, then led the way up the stairs to their section. His long legs made climbing the extra wide, extra tall steps look easy. Denise had to stretch her legs to make the climb. She was panting a little when they got to their row.

They settled into their seats and then neither of them seemed to know what to do or say next. They spent several minutes looking at the people marching up and down the steps like armies of ants, and down at the field where some of the players were warming up. Finally, he cleared his throat.

“Are you from Dallas?” he asked.

Relief that he had spoken first eased the strain. “No, I grew up near Fredericksburg. My family ranches about three miles northwest of it.”

His head jerked around. “Fredericksburg? I’m from Kerrville.”

Denise stared. Kerrville was only a thirty-minute drive from Fredericksburg. “Small world,” she commented. “You must have gone to Tivy High?”

“Yeah, my mom taught English there.”

They exchanged stories of their high school years. He graduated two years before she had and joined the Navy immediately afterward. After her graduation, she had tried tech school for a year.

“But I didn’t do very well,” she confessed, “so I joined the Army. I did one tour in Iraq, and when my ETS came up, I decided to go into the Guard and go back to school.”

She glanced up and caught his gaze. He had the most beautiful eyes, especially when he smiled at her. “What’s your MOS?”

When she told him, he thought a minute. “They keep changing the designations. Motor pool?”

She nodded. “Mechanic. Wheeled vehicles. Although in Iraq, I did plenty of work on track vehicles too. Nothing like sand to gunk equipment up.”

He laughed shortly. “Tell me about it. A mechanic, huh? Have you always been into that?”

She shrugged. “I guess. Growing up on the ranch, I learned a lot about all kinds of stuff, from fixing equipment to grinding feed to herding cows. I was the only girl, so my uncles and cousins treated me just like a boy.”

“What about your sister?”

Denise stilled. “She grew up in Mississippi.”

“Oh, your parents divorced? That’s tough. You must have been pretty young.”

May as well get it out and over with. “They were never married. My mom thought they would be. When she found out she was pregnant with me, she told him. She thought they’d get married then. But it turns out he was already married, and his wife was expecting, too. Stella is five months older than me. I never even met her until two weeks ago.”

His mouth hung open for a split second. His voice went flat. “Your father is an ass. People don’t sleep around when they’re married. Period.”

Now her mouth hung open. He might have misunderstood her reaction, because he hurried to apologize.

“Sorry,” he said. “He’s your dad. I shouldn’t put him down.”

“Oh, no, please do.” Her chuckle was brittle. “I’ve never met him, and I have no plans to. I don’t call him dad, because he’s not. I suppose he’s my father, but only in the biological sense of the word. I have my uncle Rob and my uncle Steve, and that’s good enough for me.” She swallowed, anxious to turn the conversation. “How about you? Sisters? Brothers?”

“Two brothers, one older and one younger. Cash helps manage the ranch and vineyards. Gus bums around. He works the rodeo circuit, mostly bull riding, and works on the ranch in the offseason.”

The game started. The Rangers’ pitcher, Culver, retired the first three batters, all on strikeouts.

“Good start,” Brutus said. “Culver’s earned run average isn’t that great this season, but he’s looking good today.”

Denise agreed. She accepted the hotdog and beer Brutus ordered, and settled in the enjoy the game. He wasn’t the fidgety sort. He followed the game with keen interest, but he didn’t scream or shout when the Rangers got a hit. When the Rangers scored a run in the second inning, he only smiled and sucked down more beer. He did lean forward to watch Culver face his twelfth batter and retire him.

“It’s the bottom of the fourth,” he murmured, “and so far, Culver hasn’t given up a hit or a walk.”

He didn’t need to tell her that as of now, Culver was pitching a perfect game. “It’s only the fourth inning,” she cautioned. “Too early to get too excited.”

He nodded. “True. Plenty of games start out good but …” He trailed off, apparently unwilling to jinx it.

The fifth inning came to a close without a hit or a walk. During the sixth inning, everyone in the ballpark seemed to be aware that they could be seeing history. A perfect game came around only once in a blue moon. In the entire history of baseball, a period of nearly one hundred and fifty years, less than two dozen perfect games had ever been pitched. Most pitchers never pitched a game where they didn’t give up a hit or a walk. No one had ever done it twice. Denise reached up to tighten her ponytail even though it didn’t need it.

The air during the seventh inning stretch seemed electrified. Half the stadium sang Take Me Out To the Ball Game with manic energy, and the other half just stood silently. She was on the manic side. Brutus stood quietly beside her.

Culver started the eighth inning with his eleventh strikeout. Not a single person in the stands cheered. No one wanted to breathe any harder than they had to for fear of distracting Culver.

“How many pitches has he thrown?” Denise muttered. “If they take him out—”

“They won’t take him out. He has a solid shot at a perf …” Brutus swallowed. “You know.”

The next batter sent an easy pop fly to right field. The third batter of the inning went down swinging. Denise looked up at Brutus and saw the same wonder and anticipation there that she felt herself. One more inning. Could Culver keep this up for three more batters?

At the top of the ninth Denise sat on her hands to keep them from trembling. The first batter struck out. The stadium was dead silent. Even the announcer said nothing. The players in the dugout lined the fence, faces intent. The second batter swung at the first pitch and missed. A sigh went around the stadium. People rose to their feet, still silent, straining to see everything. Denise and Brutus stood too. The second pitch was a ball. The third pitch was a ball. Denise wished she had more beer to wet her dry throat. The fourth pitch was a strike. The fifth was a ball. It was a full count. The next pitch could be the one that ended Culver’s perfect game. Brutus took her hand. She clenched his fingers in an agony of nerves. Together they watched the next pitch. Foul ball.

Brutus lifted his cap enough to swipe the back of his hand over the sweat on his forehead. Denise watched Culver wind up and closed her eyes. She opened them in time to see the batter swing and miss.

Strike three. Her knees threatened to collapse. She gripped Brutus’s big hand harder. He looked down at her and smiled. It was a tight smile, probably intended to be reassuring, but he looked as tense as she felt. Only one more batter. If Culver got this guy out, he would make baseball history.

The third and last batter of the ninth inning stepped into the batter’s box. The glare on his face said he intended to put an end to this perfect game.

Denise’s heart stopped at the crack of the bat hitting the ball. The ball soared three hundred and seventy feet to center right. Denise quit breathing while she watched the outfielder sprint desperately to catch the ball. When he did, the smack of the ball in the mitt could be heard clear to Dallas. Utter silence reigned for five more seconds. Then the stadium broke out in hysteria. The announcer shouted that they had just witnessed the twenty-fourth perfect game in major league baseball history. The wave of cheering was like a wall of sound crashing into her. Denise’s legs turned into cotton candy, and the only reason she didn’t fall down was Brutus’s big hands on her waist. He had a curiously blank look on his face.

“Wolfe is going to kill me,” he said.

“Oh, my God,” she screamed up at him. “He did it! Culver pitched a perfect game! And we got to see it!”

“I know,” he said, quite calmly, picked her up, and kissed her.

Surprise held Denise still for a split second. She decided it must be one of those quick, carried-away-by-the-moment kisses, fast, hard, and full of jubilation. But it wasn’t. His face was hard and blunt, but his lips were indescribably soft. His kiss was gentle. Exploratory. Hot. She forgot her feet were inches off the concrete. She forgot she’d just witnessed baseball history. The people jumping up and down and screaming madly only inches from her ceased to exist when his tongue brushed over her lips, asking to come in. Her arms reached up and around his neck and she kissed him back with everything in her.

It was a long moment before she came up for breath. She blinked at the hot way he looked at her. “Come home with me,” he growled.

Her girl parts screamed yes. The rest of her said no. She braced her hands against his chest. His pectorals were bunched and hard from holding her one hundred and thirty pounds up. It was hard, but she shook her head. “Too soon.” Those two were the only words she could find for a minute. “But this deserves a celebration. How about a beer and some dancing at Billie’s?”

He didn’t answer for a long minute. “Good enough,” he finally agreed.

But he didn’t release her. “Hey? Could you put me down?”

“Do I have to?”

“Well, it will be hard for me to drive to Billie’s this way.”

He roared a laugh. Such a happy, joyous sound made her giggle too. “Okay, okay.” He settled her gently on her feet. “Let’s get out of here, but hang on to me. This crowd will trample both of us if we’re not careful.”

She’d like to see anyone try to trample him. “I’ll stick to you like glue,” she promised. “Lead the way, big guy.”