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Ruby: A Retelling of Red-Ridinghood (Thistle Grove Tales Book Book 3) Page 2
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Ruby stilled as tendrils of something tickled her memories, but the more she tried to think about it, the less she felt it. “There have been kids hanging around her she-shed? I hope they don’t get hurt.”
“Don’t worry your pretty little head about that,” Braden said, patting Ruby on the shoulder. “We keep it locked up for safety.”
She lifted one eyebrow at his tone but chose not to engage. Braden was a man who was too used to being in charge. Too used to always being right about things to consider anyone else’s feelings. The Hamm brothers were fine as clients but, despite whatever Red and Snow might think, there was no romance blossoming here. At least not where Ruby was concerned.
“Don’t fall for his act,” Keiler went on. His anger shone through the Glamor that kept him looking human, and for a moment, Ruby was afraid. He may work side-by-side with his brothers, but here was a man used to getting his own way.
“It’s not an act,” Ruby said. She knew it was bad business to argue with a client and had no idea where this desire to defend Wolfe came from, but she couldn’t seem to resist it. “You forget, when the Knox brothers were kidnapped by Nora and her henchman last year to try and re-kindle the war, it was Wolfe who came along with Snow and me. He trained us in combat. We lived with him daily when we went deep into the Woodlands to rescue the Baron. Maybe he could pretend for a little while. Anyone can pretend for short periods of time. But not for weeks and not under those conditions.”
Ruby panted slightly as she finished, shocked at the vehemence in her words. She realized, a little belatedly, those words weren’t meant for Keiler or any of the Hamm brothers. They were meant for Grandmother only Ruby seemed to lack the courage to say them to her face.
She glanced around as the brothers stared at her in stunned disbelief. Wolfe was an easy target for the Hamm brothers. Ruby suspected the animosity stemmed from their original shifter forms. Wolves and Boar were natural enemies, after all.
“I’d forgotten you went on the recovery expedition,” Irwin said. As the middle brother, he seemed most used to navigating the waters between. “That must have been tough.”
Ruby looked at her hands, remember the callouses she’d built up working with the staff she’d used as a weapon. Grandmother had raised her to be a good girl. Kind and meek. The type who stayed on the well-trod paths in life. She had been shocked to realize how good it had felt to take charge. To hold a weapon and fight for what she believed in.
Unfortunately, her relationship with Grandmother had never been the same. There had been disappointment in Mathilda’s eyes, which had drilled into Ruby with the power of a hungry boar shifter in search of a particularly edible truffle. Their interactions this last year had been tension filled with passive anger, which had worn at Ruby.
Keiler looked down at the remains of his lunch. “I didn’t realize,” he admitted. His eyes narrowed as he looked off at some point behind her. “We just want you to be careful. Not one of us trusts him.” He looked at his brothers to challenge the statement, but both Barret and Irwin stayed quiet.
Ruby laughed at their concern. “Look, I fought against the Wicked Witches. I’m sure I can handle one overgrown Labrador Retriever.” The words sounded boastful and hollow, even to Ruby’s ears. She hadn’t been alone when she’d fought Nora and probably would have gotten her ass kicked if the others hadn’t been there. And Sheriff Avery Wolfe was definitely not an overgrown Lab.
“Even still, be careful.” Barret Hamm raised an eye to the sky. Clouds were moving in. “Better make short work of your day, Miss Ruby. It appears a storm is blowing in.”
Ruby waved as she went on her way, but their words stayed with her. Witches had a penchant for small children. The Fables had seen that over and over again. Missing children was the first sign the Witches were making inroads into Thistle Grove.
Ruby made a mental note as she headed back towards Wolfe’s house. She had the items he needed for delivery. Ruby should have given them to him back at the construction site. So why hadn’t she?
Because she wanted to see him again. Ruby wanted to see the gold flecks in his brown eyes warm when he looked at her. She wanted to feel the lure of attraction that existed so naturally between them. They were like the two magnets being pulled together while the world ran interference.
Or, if not the world, at least her grandmother.
Wolfe
Interesting, Wolfe thought as he watched Ruby leave the worksite, and the Hamm brothers went back to work. An overgrown Labrador Retriever, huh?
On any other day, he might have been offended at her disregard for him, but today, Wolfe heard the lie in her voice. He had been there when she fought Nora and her coven and was intimately aware of how afraid they all had been. How perilously close they had all come to being defeated.
So, when Ruby had clumped him in with her bravado over fighting a coven of Wicked Witches, Wolfe sensed the façade she was hiding behind. Her over-the-top dismissal of him only proved it.
There was a shift around him as Ruby passed his hiding spot. The ozone twirled enticingly around him, and Wolfe’s eyes narrowed as another thought occurred to him. He definitely needed more information.
Wolfe stood still and hoped the wind didn’t shift again. He was reasonably certain they hadn’t caught him listening in on their conversation, but he could never be sure. The last thing he wanted was to be found hiding behind a clump of bushes listening in on a conversation.
Granted, he wasn’t above hiding in clumps of bushes. Just not getting caught at it.
Wolfe paced himself, falling slightly behind Ruby to keep her safe. He didn’t like that she was out without her weapon.
Young buds sprouted from the trees as he crept along. Ostensibly, it was to keep Ruby safe from any predators. He refused to consider the fact that he might be the only danger to her within the vicinity.
Not that he would ever hurt Ruby. He wouldn’t. He adored her. Felt an instinctual heart-pull whenever she was near him. Wolfe wanted to keep her safe at all costs. Just not from him.
This she-shed thing of Mathilda’s bothered him. He’d caught a quick glance at the blueprints in Barret’s hands. It was wildly impractical with bright colors and gingerbread trim. A candy-colored Victorian amidst the quiet drabness of Thistle Grove.
To hear the Hamms admit that there had been signs of children hanging around Mathilda’s build site worried him. He was pissed they hadn’t told him of the possible location but chalked that up to their inherent dislike of each other.
What Wolfe hadn’t caught was where it was. He made a mental note to sniff out the location of Mathilda’s cottage in the morning, even if he had to go wolf to do it.
A breaking of a twig caught Wolfe’s attention. He narrowed his eyes, looking for some shape or scent that would tell him what was out there. Wild animal? Another shifter? A human?
Another movement and Wolfe realized it was a black bear. Tarron, maybe.
Seeing that Ruby was safely within shouting distance of the town, Wolfe shrugged until he felt his body begin to morph and change. His teeth and jaw extended and grew as he shifted into his wolf form.
Racing, he made his way back to check on the black bear. Wild black bears tended to be somewhat reclusive and wouldn’t attack, but from this distance, Wolfe couldn’t tell if it was shifter or animal, but if it were Tarron, he could reassure the man and give him an update.
Although not a father himself, Wolfe knew the man must be worried half to death.
He came in at the bear, giving the large animal plenty of time to see him. The bear chuffed slightly before grunting out with his shift. Tarron stood tall and proud, challenging the wolf to make a move.
Wolfe bent his head in acknowledgment before changing back into his human form. “I checked on the construction site out by the house. No sign of the boys there. I let the businesses in town know to keep an eye out for them.”
“There’s a storm moving in,” Tarron said, his deep bass voice echoing in the woods.
Wolfe exhaled sharply. He smelled the weather, too. “It’s too dangerous to organize a search party tonight. Chances are they got lost and are huddled together in bear form for warmth.”
Tarron nodded but didn’t seem convinced. “I will continue to look. I’ve sectioned off Thistle Grove and have been sniffing for them.”
“Good idea. But if you scent them going into the Woodlands, come get the Baron or me. We aren’t allowed in there and would need to request permission if the boys wandered that far.”
“And if they didn’t just wander?” Tarron asked, his dark eyes demanding answers Wolfe didn’t quite know how to respond to.
“Then, we will definitely need to involve Baron Knox.” The wind swirled around them, and Wolfe became acutely aware that he had to be fast if he was going to beat Ruby back to his house. Good thing he knew every shortcut in the woods.
“We will meet at lunchtime tomorrow in town. We can get a cup of coffee at the Cake Fairy, the shop owned by Snow-White and Rose-Red,” Wolfe said. “Organize a search party and search out by grid.”
Tarron looked away and only nodded in agreement.
Wolfe leaped away, shifting mid-leap. As he ran, thoughts swirled in his head. A Victorian-styled cabin for Mathilda. Two missing boys. The Hamm brothers not telling him about the kids hanging around at the other construction site. And of course, overshadowing all of it, were thoughts of Ruby.
There was more to Ruby than met the eye. He’d sensed it while they were on their journey to rescue Baron Griffin but hadn’t really explored it. There had been too much going on. Too much to worry about.
But now? A thought crossed his mind. Despite all the other worries he carried with him, Wolfe thought now might be a good time to test a theory he’d begun to have.
He picked up speed and the forest debris scattered beneath his paws as he raced against time to be where Ruby was before she could get there.
Still panting, he came into the clearing near his house and entered from the wolf-sized trap door in the back of the house. After a quick shift back into human form, he went into the root cellar and came up, carrying a basket of last fall’s apples.
Chapter 3 – A Wolf for Tea
Ruby
She didn’t often care why people hired her, but even Ruby had to admit to being slightly suspicious of Wolfe’s motivations. But with Grandmother often sick, their small family depended on Ruby’s income. So, despite Grandmother’s protestations, Ruby ran errands for the sheriff.
While Ruby walked through the woods, the earlier blue sky had turned. Low hanging, steel-bottom clouds formed above her. She bit her lip wondering if she should continue before shrugging the weather off. She tugged the edges of her scarlet cloak a little tighter around her. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d been caught in the elements. Besides, a little snow wouldn’t hurt her.
Wolfe’s house was in a small, grass-covered clearing. The lawn, such that it was, was covered in a wild tangle of natural herbs, an overgrown rose bush, and several forsythia plants, which gave the entire area a look of casual abandonment.
Upon closer inspection, however, there were well-maintained birdbaths, a fully stocked feeder, plenty of plants providing necessary pollen for area bees, and even a bucket of peanuts set out for the squirrels and chipmunks.
In a way, Ruby mused, it reflected the man who lived there. He was often unkempt. He wore a permanent five o’clock shadow, his clothes were often wrinkled, and his body hair, from what she’d seen of it, was decidedly coarse and un-trimmed.
The man, however, had proven to be an expert fighter, a patient teacher, and a loyal friend. It was almost as if he wanted people to be confused by his outward appearance in order to protect the inner man.
Ruby paused and felt her eyes sting. Had that been what she’d done?
As she stepped on the first step, the door opened. She looked up, and for just the briefest of moments, their gazes met. “Hey. It’s been a while,” Ruby said, feeling the heat of a blush tinge her cheeks at her inane greeting.
Wolfe, still huffing a bit, only nodded. He held up his right arm, which was covered in some kind of flour mixture. “I was baking. Come on in.” He walked away, leading them back into his kitchen. Sure enough, the counter was covered in bowls of various sizes.
Ruby frowned. The sheriff was baking? “I can leave everything here,” she said, pointing to the kitchen table.
Wolfe turned back to her. His heavy eyebrows lifted as if in a challenge. “Is that what you want to do?”
Ruby’s breath caught. Wolfe was laying it out quite simply. Join him, and all that may or may not entail or leave. But the freedom, the choice, was hers.
There was absolute heady freedom in making a choice. Of being chosen. Of the freewill to do it. Ruby paused for a moment and bit the inside of her lip. Could she do it? Unwittingly, she took another step into his home.
And gasped.
“Are those…apples?” She swallowed back the bile rising in her throat and threatening her composure.
Wolfe’s gaze seemed to harden, his deep brown eyes boring into her with an intensity that shook her to her very core. “You don’t like apples?”
Ruby turned away from him, the temptation, and the apples spread out in what, for someone else, might have been a tantalizing display. But for Ruby, it was gorge-inducing. “Please. Take them away. I hate apples.”
A stillness settled in the room, as though Wolfe had stopped breathing. “Have you always hated apples?”
She nodded, eyes pinched shut, nose turned away from their ghastly odor. “For as long as I can remember.”
“Did Mathilda make you eat them?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know. I can’t remember,” Ruby blurted out. Her chest felt tight with the desire to breathe, but it was too painful to inhale. The scent was overpowering. Threatening to engulf her in a tsunami, out of which she wasn’t sure she could survive. “Please, Wolfe. Take them away.”
“Why? What memories do you have?”
Ruby was surprised to find herself trembling. “I don’t know. I can’t think. I reach for them, and I can’t find them anymore. I just know that I hate apples. Isn’t that enough?”
“Of course. I’m sorry.”
Shame washed over Ruby. The remorse in his voice was real. She felt it down into her heart. “No, I’m sorry. You were doing something nice, and I overreacted.”
He approached her, loud enough for her to tell which direction he was coming from. The sound reassured her, reminding her of the who and where and why of her surroundings. “Don’t apologize for your fears.”
“Grandmother—”
Wolfe made a rather rude sound that interrupted her thought. She felt a hint of a smile played around her mouth.
“I can make a peach pie, instead,” he said, his voice darkly amused as he offered up a jar of the succulent beauties.
Ruby risked a glance out of her tightly squeezed eyes. The apples were gone. She frowned and wondered briefly where he had stowed them away, but after a brief sniff decided it didn’t matter. The apples were somewhere else, and that was all that mattered.
“You would do that for me?” Ruby asked, feeling those tiny tendrils winding their way around her soul again.
Wolfe brushed the tenderest of kisses across her cheek. “Haven’t you figured it out yet? I would do anything for you, Ruby.”
Oh, she wanted to believe him. Every cell in her body wanted to meld into him. Trust his strength and confide her own in him. The dark voice of Grandmother pulled her back.
“You want to. I can tell. What is it, Ruby? Why don’t you trust me? We fought side by side. We trained for weeks. How have I not earned your trust by now?”
Pain welled in her mind and in her ears. A ringing dissonance that she didn’t know how to combat. It just assaulted her from all sides, pelting her with icy shards that stabbed at her senses. She fell to her knees and covered her ears, fighting against the agonizing pain ripping through her head.
“Goblin’s gold, you’re bleeding,” Wolfe exclaimed. He set the jar down and dug into his back pocket for his handkerchief. He held it up to her nose. “Tell me, Ruby. Break the spell.”
Ruby blinked up at him. The spell? She was under a spell? Tears welled in her eyes. When had she been bewitched? “You’re one of them. A bzou. A werewolf.”
He recoiled as if slapped, but the words had the intended effect. The cacophony in her ears had died down to a tinny ring, and her eyesight began to clear.
Wolfe
“Let me get you to the couch,” Wolfe said as he picked her prone form up from the floor.
“I’m feeling better,” Ruby whispered. Her hand touched his jaw, and Wolfe closed his eyes against a longing he didn’t know he was capable of. He’d been honorable. He’d kept the law. Had fought beside Ruby. Had seen her work ethic and loyalty to her friends. Saw the way she doted on the old crone of her grandmother.
And still, all of it was in vain. She thought he was the lowest of the low. A werewolf able to rip and rend and tear young women apart. What did he need to do to earn her trust?
He placed her gently on the couch and put a pillow behind her head. Her glorious auburn hair spread out in a wave, and Wolfe fisted his hands to keep from stroking it.
Her scent approached him, washed over him, taunted with all he ever wanted, and could never have. “I’ll help you get back to your place after you’ve had some tea,” he said.
“No, I—"
He stood abruptly and put the kettle on. He didn’t need to hear her platitudes or words of apology. Couldn’t face seeing the truth in her lovely green eyes. No, it was better this way.
Wolfe paced the small confines of his cabin, cleaning as he went. He had too much energy to sit, too much longing to hold her hand while she recuperated.
“Are you cold? I can start a fire,” he offered. He knelt down and put in the kindling and several dried-out pinecones. With a scrape and a thin hiss from a wooden match, there was soon a warm and cheerful fire brightening up the late afternoon.
“Are you ever going to look at me again?” Ruby asked.