Jamison, Jane - The Wolf Within [Men of Passion, Colorado 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Read online

  “You’re sounding pretty old, Marc,” joked Hank.

  “These people make me old.”

  “Hang in there. The ordeal’s half over.”

  Hank lifted his beer to endorse Adam’s declaration. “Here’s to showing another bunch of city folks a good time on the range.”

  “As if this is anything like a real cattle drive.” Marc took off his hat and tracked his hand through his hair.

  “You mean cowboys in the real West didn’t have a catering truck or men to take care of their horses after a long, hard day on the trail?” Adam chuckled then pointed the top of his bottle at a couple standing on the outskirts of the camp. “What do you think’s going on with them?”

  Marc shifted his gaze to the couple. He squinted, brought out his werewolf vision, and groaned. “Aw, shit. It’s that jerk Doug Harmon and the Willum girl. Looks like he’s upset at something. Judging by his earlier disposition, it wouldn’t take much to get him riled up.”

  “Maybe she gave him a hard time for flirting with Lindsay.”

  “If she did, he deserved it. But I’m thinking it’s him that’s got his back up.”

  He could sense his brothers’ werewolves getting restless. Doug shouted at the girl, bringing Hank to his feet. “Damn, I hope he doesn’t start anything major. I just want to sit and eat a burger in peace. Is that too much to ask?”

  Stacy squealed as Doug grabbed her arm and yanked her closer. She tried to jerk her arm out of his grip, but he wasn’t letting go.

  “Damn it. I knew that guy was trouble the first minute I laid eyes on him.” Marc gritted his teeth, keeping the angry howl of his inner wolf at bay. “If he doesn’t knock it off pretty quick, we’re going to have to take care of him.”

  Adam took a long drag on his beer, emptied it, and set it on top of the rock. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and one of the other crew will say something to him.”

  Marc scanned his fellow coworkers. If they’d noticed what was going on between the couple, they were doing a fine job of ignoring it. “I think we’re shit out of luck. Fuck, tell me he didn’t just slap her.”

  Hank and Adam were on their feet, positioned as Marc was, to break into a run. “I wish I could, but I can’t, big brother.” Hank, the one who usually kept a fun outlook on life, punched his fist in front of him. “Shall we deck him?”

  When Doug raised his hand at Stacy again, the three brothers rushed toward them. Marc had only taken a few steps before Stacy failed to duck the next slap. She yelped, and, although now everyone saw what was happening, no one made a move toward Doug.

  “I’ll handle this. You two stay back.” As if they’ll listen to me.

  Damn, he never should’ve let that jerk come on the ride. Once he made it back, he’d see about getting his ass thrown off the ranch. He snarled as he and his brothers ate up the distance between them and the couple.

  Marc reached them first. “Leave the girl alone.”

  Adam and Hank held back, but they were close enough to lend a hand if needed. The others in the group were easing closer, eager to see what was going on now that they wouldn’t have to interfere.

  Tears streamed down Stacy’s cheeks as she stared from Doug to Marc. Panic showed in her pale face. Was she afraid of Doug hitting her again? Or did she fear what Doug would do to her for getting the others involved? Long black hair fell over shoulders, and she trembled, making her waiflike body seem even more fragile. Marc looked into her tear-reddened eyes and tried to give her the courage she so badly needed.

  “Where’s the cavalry when you need them?” Hank shrugged at Marc’s quick glare.

  Adam and Hank stood on opposite sides of the onlookers, who were forming a semicircle around Marc and the couple. Marc swallowed back a growl and reminded himself that he was a representative of the ranch. As such he couldn’t tear Doug’s head off like he so badly wanted to. Instead, he’d have to play peacemaker. He studied Doug then Stacy and, not for the first time, wondered how they’d ever gotten together.

  Doug was older than the girl by at least ten years. His greasy black hair fell into his face, and dark stubble covered his jaw. The man wasn’t a slouch in the body, but he was heavy with a barrel chest. Yet unlike the Shelton brothers’ muscles that were hewn from hard labor, Doug’s body came from hours in the gym. Hadn’t he heard something about Doug being a bodybuilder? But he hadn’t paid much attention. He simply couldn’t relate to spending hours working out with barbells and weights when a man could keep fit working on a ranch and accomplishing more than building up a few muscles. Still, he doubted Doug would be easy to take down.

  Maybe he’s like the stereotypical bully. All bull and no brains.

  As long as he didn’t hit Stacy again, Marc wouldn’t interfere. He’d follow company policy on that. Hopefully, another member of the staff, one who’d worked there longer than him and his brothers, would step forward and take control. But he didn’t think that was going to happen anytime soon. He was in charge of the trail ride, and it was his responsibility to deal with problems. And Doug Harmon was definitely a problem.

  “Stacy, see what you’ve gone and done? Your wailing’s disturbed everyone. Shut the hell up. We’ll talk when we get back to the cabin.” The man scowled at his fellow trail riders. “You folks can butt out and go on back to your meal. Stacy won’t cause any more trouble. Isn’t that right, honey?”

  “I don’t think it’s your girlfriend that’s causing the fuss.” Marc hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans as much to keep himself from hitting the man as to make it appear that he wasn’t too upset. There was no need for the other people to know how infuriated he was, much less to let them see his werewolf side come out.

  “Doug, please. I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

  Marc gritted his teeth. What the hell could she have done to upset him? Not that it mattered. He didn’t care what she’d said or done. Doug didn’t have the right to put his hands on her in anger.

  “Stacy, are you sure you’re all right? If you want, you can ride back with me. Or with the cook in his pickup.”

  Doug lowered his chin like a bull about to charge. “Just stay out of this, cowboy. This is between me and my girl and none of your damn business.”

  Marc forced his mouth into a smile. “You made it my business when you hit her.” The crowd added their murmurs of agreement.

  Stacy darted her frightened gaze between the men. “No, you don’t understand. I deserved it. I shouldn’t have come on the ride in the first place. I should’ve stayed back at the cabin like he wanted me to.”

  “Shut your trap, girl. I’ll handle this. Go and get me another plate and a cold beer.” Doug caught her by the arm and pulled her forward. She stumbled, and if Doug hadn’t held on, she would’ve fallen.

  Marc’s anger whipped into a fury. His inner wolf growled and clawed at the surface. If he didn’t keep control, he’d shift in front of all these people. He fought against the power rising inside him, clenching his hands.

  Doug’s gaze dropped to Marc’s hands. He turned Stacy loose and put up his fists, ready to fight. “Come on, hero. Show me what you’ve got.”

  “Marc, no. Don’t. He’s not worth it.”

  But Doug’s rough treatment of Stacy had pushed Marc over the edge. Ignoring Adam, he threw his body at Doug, knocking into the man and sending them both to the ground. Marc came out on top and raised his hand to strike. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that real men don’t hit women?”

  A hand grabbed his wrist just as he was about to bring out his claws and swipe them across Doug’s face. He growled and yanked his arm away from Adam. Catching his brother’s dire expression, Marc regained control of his inner beast. He pushed himself off Doug and spun back toward Stacy. But Stacy was nowhere to be found.

  Doug was on his feet, his face turning red as he shouted obscenities, but Adam got in front of him, his palms out, trying to calm the enraged man down. “Easy, Harmon, or I’m going to have to send you back to camp with an escort.
”

  “Are you crazy? That guy attacked me! As soon as we get back, I want to talk to the owner of this shit outfit. I want that man fired. Do you hear me?” He backed away then turned toward the onlookers. “You all saw him. He attacked me. I should call the cops and have his ass arrested.”

  Adam glanced at Marc, who was still hunting for Stacy. “Where’d she go?”

  “I don’t know. I was too busy trying to keep you from tearing a man’s face off.”

  Only someone with werewolf hearing could’ve heard Adam’s whisper. Marc ignored the still-ranting Doug and searched the crowd. “Did anyone see where she went?”

  He doubted Doug had even noticed that she was gone. The man was too concerned with himself to worry about his girlfriend. Marc asked again, “Did anyone see where Stacy went?”

  If she’d taken off into the woods, he might have a difficult time finding her. He’d have to shift to use his werewolf powers to have any chance. But letting a frightened woman stay in the woods all day and possibly into the night was not an option.

  “She took off in that direction.” Mr. Linat, his arm around his girlfriend, pointed toward the trees.

  It was only a few hours until evening, when they were due back at the ranch. If they didn’t show up on time, Roy Griffin, the owner, would send out a search party. Once the sun was down, it would get dark real fast and be even darker under the cover of the trees. “Hank, stay here with the others. Adam, let’s spread out and search that line of trees.”

  “I told you to leave her alone. She’ll come crawling back. She always does.”

  Hank pushed Adam away from Doug then gestured for him to go with Marc. Adam’s eyes glittered with amber as he came to Marc’s side, and Marc knew his brother had taken as much guff from Doug as he could stand.

  “Mr. Harmon”—Marc’s tone was low and mean—“if you don’t get the hell out of my sight right now, I’m going to tie you up like a hog and toss you into the back of the pickup.”

  “Fuckin’ A! Are you going to let him talk to me like that?”

  Hank was left to handle the still-irate Harmon. “Calm down, Mr. Harmon. Let’s let Adam and Marc find her, then we can all sit down and talk this out.”

  “Talk it out? Fuck that! You can talk to my attorney!”

  Marc shot a glare Harmon’s way then motioned for Adam to spread out to his right. “Holler if you find her. She couldn’t have gone far.”

  “You’re going to pay, you scumbag. As soon as I tell your boss, your ass is gone for good. Nobody treats Doug Harmon like that and gets away with it.”

  Adam strode off to the right but not before tossing Marc a grin. “You sure do know how to make friends.”

  Marc grunted his reply and jogged toward the tree line. If they didn’t find Stacy soon, he’d show Doug Harmon what bad treatment was really like. But first he had to find the girl before she got lost—or worse.

  Chapter Two

  “Hey, there you are.” Adam tried to sound lighthearted, like he’d accidentally run into Stacy on a stroll through the forest, but he knew she didn’t buy it. By being overly friendly, he’d hoped not to frighten her any more than she already was. She’d gone farther than he’d figured she would, and it had taken almost two hours to find her. Somehow she’d managed to elude him even when he’d used his more sensitive werewolf senses of sight and smell. Had his tracking skills gone bad?

  Still, she hadn’t seen or heard him approach, and she jolted, her hand flying to her throat. When she saw who it was, she settled down a bit, but her fear wasn’t completely gone.

  He gave her a quick once-over to look for the two Bs—bruises and blood—that every ranch hand was told to check for, but he didn’t see anything. Except for the bruises on her face and arm that were more than likely thanks to her jerk-wad boyfriend.

  I bet she’s thinking about how angry Doug’s going to be once she goes back. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, but fresh tears sprang to her eyes. Ducking her head, she tried to keep him from seeing her cry.

  “Stacy, it’s okay. Doug’s not going to do anything to you with me and my brothers around. If you want, you can ride with one of us or go back in the cook’s pickup. Once we’re at the main house, you can tell the owner, Mr. Griffin, what Doug did. We’ll support you if you want to press assault charges.”

  He knew he’d gone too far when she lifted her head, her eyes even wider. “Please don’t call the cops. Doug’s really good at fooling them. It only makes it worse after they’ve gone.”

  “But I bet you didn’t have anyone like my brothers and me, and maybe some of the other riders, to take your side. That’ll make all the difference in the world.” He hoped what he’d said was true, but who knew? Domestic abuse was rare in packs and, when it did happen, the alpha always handled it. Human police were never called in to help.

  At that moment, Marc pushed through a group of bushes. “Good. We found you.” Marc’s dark eyes flashed amber when he saw the girl’s tears. “Are you okay? If you’re worried about your boyfriend, don’t be. We won’t let him hurt you.”

  Her mouth moved as she tried to speak and a tremor ran through her frail form before she finally gave up and rushed past them. But at least she was headed toward the campsite.

  “What’d I say?”

  Adam took off after her, ignoring Marc’s question. He didn’t want her hurting herself running through the forest. If he could get her to slow down, maybe they’d have more time to talk her into leaving the asshole. Marc fell into step beside him.

  They caught up to her without much effort, but getting her to talk was another thing. No matter how many assurances they gave her, she continued to shake her head and keep her gaze on the ground.

  Adam and Marc exchanged several telling glances, knowing what the other was thinking, but neither one of them could find the right words to put some sense into the girl. The best they could do was to catch her when she stumbled and keep her pointed in the right direction.

  Just as they were about to emerge into the campsite clearing, Adam picked up speed and jumped in front of her. He had to give it one last try. If he didn’t, he’d kick his own butt later and worry about her all night. She skidded to a stop and crouched as though she expected him to hit her. Sadness enveloped him at her terrified expression. What had the poor girl endured that had her so afraid? Marc came up behind her, being as quiet as he could not to startle her even more.

  Adam held up his hands in supplication, much as he’d done with Doug. But this time it was for a different reason. “Stacy, I have to ask one last time. How about we get you back to the main house by yourself? I’m sure Mr. Griffin will put you up in a different cabin, or even in the main house. If you want, we can ask him to let us drive you into town.”

  Marc added his last attempt. “Could you call your mom or maybe a sister? Maybe a close friend? Whatever you want to do, we’ll help you do it, okay? Just don’t go back to a man who treats you like that.”

  She swallowed hard enough for their sensitive werewolf ears to hear it. “No. Thank you. You’re really nice to want to help me, but I have to stay with Doug.”

  “Why?” Marc eased next to Adam. “If you’re afraid of him, we’ll get you protection. Hell, we’ll be your protection.”

  She shook her head again, either not knowing the answer or refusing to tell them.

  “At least talk about it with another woman? Maybe at a shelter for abused women? I’m not sure if Passion has one, but we’ll be glad to drive you into Denver or anywhere else you want to go.”

  “No. I can’t.”

  The ache in her tone tore at Adam’s heart. “I don’t get it. Why would you want to stay with a boyfriend who hits you?”

  She refused to look at him and, instead, shook her head and hurried away. Adam’s stomach flipped over as she ran toward Doug. “I will never understand women.”

  “You and me both, brother. You and me both.” Marc patted him on the back and started toward the camp
site.

  * * * *

  Tatum Griffin was relieved to be home. After her mother, Glenda, divorced her father twelve years earlier and moved to Dallas when Tatum was only ten years old, she’d insisted that Tatum visit her at least once a year. Never mind that Tatum was now a twenty-two-year-old adult who could decide when and with whom she wanted to visit. Nonetheless, she visited her mother knowing that keeping her happy would keep her off her father’s back.

  Tatum leaned against the wall of the window seat in her bedroom and gazed out the window. She loved the ranch and the two-story framed house with the large porch filled with rocking chairs. Cool Waters Dude Ranch was the one place where she felt she belonged.

  She’d grown up on the ranch and knew the hands as well as many of their returning guests. The atmosphere was laid-back, and she preferred it to Dallas and the never-ending dinners and parties her mother dragged her to. The dinners always included the son of one of her mother’s wealthy friends, and, although she was adept at small talk, the time sitting across from a strange man was pure torture. As the years progressed, the men became less and less attractive. As long as their family had lots of money, her mother didn’t care how old, how boring, or how rude the men were.

  Damn it. When am I going to tell her what I think? Yet she knew if she did, her father wound end up taking the brunt of her mother’s wrath. She sighed and pushed her glasses higher up the bridge of her nose.

  Granted, she knew she wasn’t much to look at either. Growing up overweight, with big glasses and braces, had taught her early on that men weren’t interested in her in that way. The best she’d ever hoped for was that a fellow nerd would like her for her intellect. She’d lost the weight and braces in college, but she still wore the black-framed glasses. Contacts were great, but the dust and dirt that went along with living on the ranch bothered her eyes so much that she usually opted for the painless simplicity of glasses.

  Her long dark brown hair was okay, but she’d always wanted straight hair like most of her friends had. Instead her hair was naturally curly and she’d given up on taming the unruly locks. Her face, oval in shape, had a few freckles running along the bridge which she believed made any chance that her face would ever be called sexy impossible. After all, how many sex symbols had freckles? Others told her that her hazel eyes were pretty, but who could see them stuck behind the thick frames of her glasses? She glanced at the contact case resting on her dresser. Maybe she should give them another try.