For Her: A Malsum Pass Novel Read online

  Daisy’s mouth had fallen open. “Why not? We’re not restricted here like we were back home. Here they encourage education.”

  Lily dragged a hand through her hair. “We’re in hiding, Daisy. You would need to register for school and they’d be one step closer to finding us. Hank wasn’t an insignificant member of the pride. He was the pride leader’s son. They’re not going to just give up.”

  At Daisy’s crestfallen look, Lily had pulled her in for a hug and said against her ear. “This is my fault, Daisy, I’m sorry. But if I could go back and change it, I wouldn’t. I’m not sorry he’s dead, I’m just sorry that you got dragged into the middle of that mess.”

  Daisy had nodded her understanding, but she wasn’t sorry she had left the pride. Had she stayed, she would have been paired off with the male Kramer had chosen and under the complete rule of a mate who could use her and abuse her at will without anyone batting an eye. Seen as nothing more than a vessel for future generations. At least here she had hope. She would have a future of her choosing. She may not be able to start on it right now, but someday…

  Daisy had been so distracted by her thoughts she hadn’t realized that she’d not only left her house, but had trudged through the snow and cold for quite some time. She was close to the edge of the territory; could smell the scent of the markers. She looked about for the patrols that monitored the boundaries but didn’t see anyone, only a female bobcat who was watching her from some feet away. “What do you think?” She asked the cat. The last few times she’d tried to leave the area she’d been told to head back.

  Having been here for several months now, the wolves had become accustomed to them. Most smiled a greeting when they saw them, and a few even came by to mock spar on occasion. Mostly with Lily since Daisy was singularly lacking when it came to fighting skills. Unlike her sister who had excelled in her training, Daisy was too easily distracted. She would much rather observe nature and sketch it out in her sketchpad or bury herself in a good book than fight. She also loved to visit Mrs. Potter, a human who lived not too far outside of pack lands who had a love of knitting and vinyl records. From the time she woke in the morning until she went to bed at night, you could hear the sounds of Kenny Rogers, The Carpenters, Charlie Rich, and occasionally, Fleetwood Mac. She’d taught Daisy how to knit, showed her the basics of quilting, and had given her several great romance novels that Daisy had eagerly devoured.

  Mrs. Potter always had a story to tell and treated Daisy like a daughter. Having grown up with parents that never showed affection, the older woman had quickly earned a special place in Daisy’s heart. She became the mother Daisy would have wished for if she had known the difference. But Daisy hadn’t been able to leave the territory to see her since before Christmas. The town had increased patrols and warned the residents of a dangerous predator in the area that had killed two human hunters. They hadn’t come right out and said it, but the way several of the council members had looked toward Lily and Daisy during the telling, it wasn’t hard to assume that there had been a feline shifter in the area. The very thought had given both Lily and Daisy several sleepless nights for that first month. They had woke at every little noise, scared that they had been discovered and would be dragged back. After several weeks with no further incident, they had both calmed somewhat, though Lily was often plagued by nightmares, Daisy was pretty sure they had to do with the travesty of her marriage rather than this unknown threat.

  Daisy lifted her face and breathed deep. Her nose was nowhere near as good as the wolves, but she didn’t scent anything ominous. Aside from the bobcat, she could smell the crisp winter air, the sweet smell of the evergreens, and a hint of wood smoke. Surely enough time had passed and the predator had moved on. What harm would come if she just continued on the short distance to Mrs. Potter’s house?

  Chapter Two

  When the large farmhouse came into view, Daisy picked up her step, excited to see Mrs. Potter again. The dirt road she had to cross had been plowed, but the now packed down snow was quite slick so she carefully picked her way across. When she reached the other side, the first thing Daisy noticed was that someone had shoveled or plowed Mrs. Potter’s large driveway and had cleared her front porch of snow and ice. Mounting the front steps, she was close enough now to hear music playing. She recognized the song but it wasn’t one of Mrs. Potter’s usual albums. Daisy grinned and began humming along with Walking After Midnight by Patsy Cline; Mrs. Potter must have gotten a new album.

  Daisy rapped loudly on the door to be heard above the music before she opened it and popped her head inside. Into her eighth decade, Mrs. Potter had short white curls, a cherubic face with rosy cheeks, and always a twinkle in her blue eyes. To Daisy, she looked like she should be playing Mrs. Claus in a Christmas pageant. Currently, she was sitting in her big comfy chair, knitting with bright yellow yarn. She looked up at Daisy’s approach and smiled widely before using a remote to turn down the music. She set her knitting aside and raised her arms for a hug and Daisy rushed to her, breathing in her scent. How she had missed this woman; her soft, warm embrace and the smell of Shalimar. Had she been a wolf she probably would have been cringing and sneezing. Luckily, perfumes had never bothered her less than stellar sense of smell.

  Mrs. Potter gave her a few hearty raps on the back and then pulled away. “Well now, stranger, just where have you been keeping yourself? I could have been dead for all you knew.” She let out an offended huff and motioned to the couch for Daisy to sit.

  Daisy pulled off her knit cap and coat before flopping down with a grin. “I have no doubt that you’ll outlive us all, Mrs. Potter.”

  Mrs. Potter grunted but she couldn’t disguise her pleased grin as Daisy continued. “Things have been hectic over in town and I couldn’t get away.”

  The older woman eyed her thoughtfully and nodded. “I like the haircut, gal. It suits you.”

  Daisy had completely forgotten that Mrs. Potter hadn’t seen her new style. She had always worn it extremely long. A sort of curtain to help conceal her body when she would shift back to skin. She reached up to touch the blond locks that now just touched her shoulders in a sleek long bob thanks to Connie. One morning she had been overly frustrated after being turned back on the outskirts of the territory by the recent increased patrols. Even if it was for her safety, she had once again felt like she was being stifled. Such a simple thing as paying a visit to a dear friend and she was being denied. She had gone to visit Connie at the salon and ranted and raved for a good half hour before Connie had suggested a change to her appearance to make her feel more empowered. It certainly had. Hair that had once acted as concealment, now framed her face to advantage. Previously, her hair had just hung heavy and lifeless around her face and down past her backside. Connie had teasingly called it hippie hair. Now she had a full fringe of bangs and when she tucked her hair behind her ears the locks would flip up to caress her jawline. The new style made her feel modern and pretty.

  Mrs. Potter pushed up from her chair with the help of her cane and made her way to the closet. Her voice muffled as she bent over inside the small space. “Well, you missed meeting my grandson and his wife. They came to stay for a week at Christmas.” She emerged from the closet with a brightly wrapped gift in her hand and handed it over to Daisy. “But you can meet the new man I took in as a boarder in exchange for odd jobs around here. He’s out back in the barn right now.” She waggled her eyebrows comically and lowered her voice to a stage whisper. “Quite the looker.” She gave a dramatic sigh as she handed over the present to Daisy. “If I was twenty years younger.”

  Daisy absently took the gift. “Isn’t that dangerous, taking on a boarder? I mean, do you even know anything about this man? What if he’s a criminal?”

  Mrs. Potter patted her shoulder and returned to her chair and picked up her knitting. “My grandson placed the ad. With his phone of all things! Can you imagine?” She motioned toward the computer on her desk. “I have a perfectly good machine right there that God kno
ws I never get around to using.” She mumbled something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like show off, and then continued. “He took care of checking all the references and such. Alek, that’s his name, is a good one. He keeps the driveway and porch cleared of snow and he’s already taken care of a bunch of pesky little problems like that loose board on the stair that could have tripped me up. Besides, it’s just as dangerous for me to fall according to those television commercials and not be able to reach the phone. I could be lying here for months before anyone would find my body. At least now someone is within shouting distance.”

  Daisy nodded, still not sure if she liked the idea of some unknown man living with her friend. She would definitely have to check him out for herself.

  She frowned in confusion looking down at the gift she finally realized she was holding. “What’s this?”

  Mrs. Potter shrugged. “You missed Christmas but I got you a little something. It’s not much, mind you, so you get rid of that guilty look right now.” She said, thumping the rubber end of her cane against the floor.

  Daisy couldn’t help it. Her eyes prickled with tears and she sniffed. Her pride had never celebrated holidays with gifts. Lily was the only person who had ever given Daisy any kind of present up until the Christmas party she had attended here in Malsum Pass where she’d received a cute little ornament. She looked up at Mrs. Potter, tears shimmering in her hazel eyes. “Thank you.”

  The older woman handed her a tissue. “You haven’t seen it yet so you may not want to be too free with your thanks. You may not even like it.”

  Daisy wiped her eyes and chuckled. “I didn’t get you anything, I’m sorry.”

  Mrs. Potter thumped her cane on the floor again. “You coming to visit me is thanks enough. It was lonely here, gal and then you came and let me chew your ear off and pretend I had something worth saying. Now open it.” She finished, lifting her cane tip to nudge Daisy’s foot.

  Daisy eagerly opened the present to discover a matching set of knit hat, scarf and mittens all in baby blue. She smiled, remembering when Mrs. Potter had been working with this exact shade of yarn. Knowing that she had made these with her own two hands made them that much more special. She hugged them to her chest and sniffled again. “I love them. I’ll treasure them always, thank you so much.”

  Mrs. Potter waved away her thanks. “I was going to get you one of those ‘word of the day’ calendars since you seemed to like mine so much, but I didn’t really get a chance to get out and do much shopping. My grandson got me a new one for this year and I’ve been saving the ones you missed. They’re in an envelope on my desk.”

  Daisy put her present aside and got up to walk over to the small desk where a new block of calendar pages was set next to the computer monitor, an envelope propped between the two. When she had first come to visit Mrs. Potter, she had discovered the calendar and had eagerly read through the words and their meanings. Having been afforded a minimum of education, she had never realized how limited her vocabulary truly was.

  Pulling out the envelope she looked through a few of the pages. Bucolic - In a lovely, rural setting – well, that certainly described where she now lived, even if she wasn’t thrilled with all the snow. Desuetude, Daisy chuckled, the definition said disuse but she couldn’t imagine anyone actually choosing to use desuetude in a sentence. She probably couldn’t even pronounce it correctly. In fact, she often discovered that words she read sounded completely different when said aloud from how she had been mentally pronouncing them. She flipped to the next one in the envelope and pulled it free. Fugacious meant fleeting and again she wondered if anyone really preferred the former to the latter.

  Just then Daisy heard the back door open and she tucked the pages back in the envelope to study later at her leisure.

  “Ah, here comes Alek now,” Mrs. Potter said and then in a raised voice. “Alek, come here a moment and meet my friend Daisy.”

  Daisy could smell him and he smelled expensive. She wasn’t too familiar with men’s colognes, but she’d bet the one the new boarder was wearing had been costly. It smelled really nice: woodsy with a touch of citrus. She turned with a welcoming smile on her face as the man stepped through the doorway from the kitchen. Mrs. Potter had said he was ‘a looker’, so Daisy had expected someone moderately attractive, possibly in his middle years. But this… him… oh my…

  Daisy vaguely heard Mrs. Potter’s voice, as if from a distance when she said, “Daisy Munroe, this is Alek Stevens.” But she couldn’t take her eyes off the man. Brown hair, worn a bit too long that curled on the ends. Beautiful clear blue eyes, a straight nose over a mouth that had a slightly fuller lower lip. He was clean shaven, unlike most of the men in Malsum Pass, but the darker grain of what would become a five o’clock shadow was apparent on his strong jaw. He was tall, probably an inch or two over six feet. He was dressed in faded jeans and a gray thermal top which hugged his torso. His body, lean and well-muscled like the swimmers she had practically drooled over when she had been allowed to watch the summer Olympics on television.

  A gleeful cackle and the thump of a cane against the floor broke Daisy from her spell. She blushed, having no idea how long she had stood there staring at the man. She was about to apologize when Mrs. Potter directed her next statement at Alek. “If you’re done staring at the gal maybe you can find the tongue you swallowed when you saw her and say hello.”

  Daisy felt her cheeks heat even more. Mrs. Potter had no problem speaking her mind. She had once told Daisy that when you get to be her age you say what you think and make no apologies for it. Normally, she would have laughed and teased Mrs. Potter for being so blunt. Instead she had the sudden urge to find a mirror and fix her hair. She hadn’t given a thought to it when she’d carelessly pulled her cap from her head. For all she knew she had hat hair and static flyaway all at the same time. As casually as she could manage, she lifted a hand to smooth through the locks at the top of her head.

  Motion caught her attention and she snapped her eyes up. Alek had moved from the doorway with his hand outstretched. She took it in her own, his so much larger and warmer; slightly rough with callouses. Her mouth went dry as he continued to look at her with those beautiful eyes. This close she could see a swirl of yellow just around the pupil made his irises look almost turquoise. Odd that, since they had looked so true before. Did his eyes change color? She shook herself from the trance she seemed to have fallen under as he said, “It’s nice to finally meet you, Daisy.”

  His voice was deep, low, intimate, a sexy timber that sent shivers down Daisy’s spine. She licked her suddenly dry lips to respond but lost her train of thought again as those eyes went to her mouth. It took her a moment before what he had said finally sunk into the pudding her brain had become. It’s nice to finally meet you… as if he’d been waiting for her. She shook it off. Obviously Mrs. Potter had told him about her. That was all. Hopefully the older woman hadn’t shared anything too embarrassing. Daisy went through a series of past visits in her head, but nothing stood out as fodder for juicy gossip.

  Daisy became aware that she was still holding his hand and pulled hers free as she pasted a smile to her lips. “It’s nice to meet you as well, Alek.”

  Chapter Three

  Alek heard the needle lift off the current record before the arm retracted and another record was dropped onto the turntable. Kenny Rogers began crooning the lyrics to “Lady”. He tracked the motion with his eyes as the woman in front of him wiped her palms on the front of her jeans; a nervous gesture. His continued perusal was probably making her uncomfortable but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. Seeing her from a distance couldn’t compare to having her within arm’s reach.

  That smile she had given him; so pure and true that it lit up her face, had nearly stopped his heart. Unlike her sister Lily, Daisy Munroe was not beautiful, but there was something about her… cute, yes – even pretty… Wholesome. That was the word he was looking for. Daisy looked wholesome and pure and that innocence and
lack of guile spoke to something deep within Alek’s psyche. She was built like a typical feline female though a bit on the shorter side. Even with the added bulk of her thick sweater he could tell she had the sleek, graceful lines so dominant in their species. While her sister was more tawny in coloring, Daisy had champagne blonde hair that she was currently tucking behind her ears; another nervous gesture. Her eyes had been hazel green when she’d made eye contact but now she was looking anywhere but at him. He definitely made her nervous and that was the last thing he wanted. He looked to Mrs. Potter. “Shall I make some tea?” At Mrs. Potter’s nod, he moved back toward the kitchen.

  He’d had to lay low for several weeks to allow his injury to heal and when he’d seen the ad placed for a boarder at a house so close to Malsum Pass it had seemed serendipitous. He wasn’t opposed to living rough, even in harsh winter climes but it was nice having an actual roof over his head and a bed to sleep on. Living in Mrs. Potter’s house would afford him proximity to his target plus valuable intel regarding the town. He’d contacted Dev and had all of the necessary references, identity, and background in place in short order. What he’d been able to discover was that the town’s people kept to themselves for the most part – not surprising for any shifter town – but were quite helpful when called upon. Mrs. Potter was especially fond of Flora from Flora’s Hair Design who permed and trimmed Mrs. Potter’s hair every six weeks or so while sharing the best gossip.

  He hadn’t been able to gather much information on Lily Kramer except that while Mrs. Potter hadn’t actually met the elder sister, she’d been given the impression from Daisy that her marriage had been unfortunate and it was for that reason the sisters had relocated. Mrs. Potter hadn’t expanded on that, but her tone and a pointed look had implied much. As for the younger sister, Mrs. Potter enthused about her regularly. In this household she was much loved indeed, and from what he’d come to realize, she had needed it. Her parents weren’t very demonstrative in their affections… the poor girl barely had any proper schooling… I get the impression her sister is the only one who ever showed that poor girl any kindness…