“Yes, you did. Which suitcase do you need?”
She blinked. “The small one.”
She listened to the heavy tread of his footsteps on the front porch, then to the snow crunching beneath his boots as he walked to the truck.
Winter in Pine Bluffs. Emma knew the summers better. When she was sixteen, her mother had sent her to stay with Letty over summer vacation, arguing that time away from the city would do her good. Emma had chosen to come the next six years. Nathan had only been part of the reason, because her mother had been right - time in Pine Bluffs had done her good. She loved the forests with their thick mats of pine needles over red earth, loved the town with its three stoplights and not a single chain restaurant.
So she’d visited, first in high school and then throughout college, fully intending to make it a permanent move after she’d earned her degree. But she’d changed her plans that last summer.
Apparently Nathan had been thinking of that summer too, and the hike they’d taken around the lake, the tension simmering between them. “Your leg didn’t scar,” he said, setting her case on the table.
Automatically, Emma glanced down at her right calf. Smooth skin stretched over muscle that, five years ago, had been mangled, bleeding. “It turned me into a werewolf. So I heal faster now.”
His short burst of laughter was exactly what she’d expected. No, she couldn’t tell him straight out. She’d have to prepare him, so that he could more easily accept the unbelievable. After dropping Aunt Letty and her at his house, Nathan would have to return to the highway and help Osborne go over the scene at the Jeep. It would be a simple thing to follow him in wolf form and offer help . . . and then hope he didn’t shoot her, as he had the werewolf who’d attacked her.
A lead bullet between the eyes killed a werewolf just as easily as it did a man; unfortunately, death hadn’t changed him back to his human form. If it had, she might have known what was happening to her. She might have known where the cravings came from, and why she’d woken up naked in the woods just outside Nathan’s bedroom window.
But she’d probably have been just as frightened, and run just as fast.
“Your Jeep was packed full,” he said, and she could feel his gaze on her as she unzipped her suitcase. “Are you staying a while?”
“Forever, probably.”
“Why now?”
She stepped into her jeans. “Aunt Letty’s getting older, there’s an opening for a science teacher at the high school, and I need a place to run.”
His eyebrows drew together. “Are you in trouble?”
“Not a place to run to, a place to run. The city isn’t good for that.”
His frown remained, but he only nodded. Emma pulled on a sweater as Letty came back into the kitchen, bundled in her coat and knitted cap. Daisy, the yel
low Labrador who’d been Letty’s companion for as long as Emma could remember, had ventured downstairs and now sat at Letty’s heel. The dog’s body was taut, shaking. That was another reason Emma had left. But she’d since learned that, with time, a dog would get over its instinctive fear of her. It just took a lot of dog biscuits.
Letty’s steely gaze landed on Emma’s face. Emma shook her head.
An aging aunt, a job, a place to run. All true. And Nathan was another reason - but she couldn’t tell him that until after she showed him the rest.
The snow let up just before dawn. Nathan walked the highway shoulder, sweeping his flashlight over the ground, hoping for even a foot of tyre track that hadn’t been filled in. Emma had helped narrow down the type of vehicle, but a matching tread would go further in court.
Two hundred yards from her Jeep, he gave up. Turning back, he saw Osborne standing beside the deputy vehicle, lifting his hand. Nathan waved him on. There was nothing left here. He’d have the Jeep towed into town, and the snow and the ploughs would erase the rest.
Then he’d spend a good portion of the morning bucking through the logging roads that turned off the main highway between here and Pine Bluffs, searching for the route Emma’s attacker had used. Cold, boring work, which would give him too much time to spend in his head. This meant he’d probably spend a good portion of the morning obsessing over Emma.
And wishing that he were with her in his old bedroom, in that old double bed heaped high with blankets, instead of trudging through the freezing backwoods.
He glanced into her Jeep as he passed it. An inch of white snow covered the driver’s seat, and the black powder from the fingerprinting kit dusted the door handles.
Not much hope there either. Emma had been certain her assailant had been wearing leather gloves.
Yet she’d still managed to bite through the gloves hard enough that his blood had splashed all over her. Terror lent her strength.
A hot ball of anger settled in his gut. Nathan looked away from the Jeep, staring blindly into the treeline. They were going to get the bastard this time. If the son of a bitch knew what was good for him, he’d walk into the sheriff’s office now and turn himself in.
But Nathan hoped to God that when the time came, the bastard resisted arrest.
Of course, they had to identify him first. With a sigh, he banged his fist against the roof of the Jeep, turned back to his vehicle. And froze.