“Deal.” He gathered the grocery bags into his arms, supporting their weight to stop the paper from tearing. “Lead the way.”
They walked in silence up the winding road, snow crunching under their boots. He wanted to ask what had happened to make her so skittish, who had hurt her badly enough to put that haunted look in her eyes. Instead, he redistributed the groceries between his arms and followed her, staying exactly five paces behind. His wolf bristled at the distance, but he ignored it. And there were some compensations for his position, he thought, admiring the swing of her pretty little ass and the soft sway of her braid.
They reached Garrick’s iron gates. Robin punched in a code, and the gates swung open with a groan. He followed her to the porch, then she hesitated and gave him an uncertain look.
“Would you mind bringing those inside and putting them on the counter?”
“No problem.”
He followed her into the huge, old-fashioned kitchen, his boots echoing on the tile floor. The room was spotless, the marble counters gleaming in the sunlight and the brass on the big range polished to a shine. He put the bags down on the old wooden island and she immediately began unloading the groceries, shooting a look at him from under her lashes.
“Thank you for your help. You didn’t have to.”
“It was my pleasure. Let me know if you need anything.”
His wolf whined, urging him to stay, but the scent of her anxiety lingered in the air. He forced himself to give her a casual nod, but as she turned away, he removed the rose from under his jacket and tucked it in with the groceries.
Halfway down the corridor, he ran into Garrick. The gargoyle looked at him and shook his head, a smile twisting his lips.
“Well, well, well. I heard you were the new sheriff but I didn’t quite believe it. Whatever happened to the old Eric? The one who ran wild every night?”
He shifted uncomfortably, but he couldn’t deny it. He and Garrick had been good friends before the other male left town, and he’d been with them on more than one of those nights.
“He grew up after you left.”
Dark eyes studied his face. “Is that what the Pack thinks?”
“No. They haven’t changed.”
Garrick nodded, but didn’t press the subject. Instead his gaze traveled past Eric to the closed kitchen door.
“What do you think of my new housekeeper?”
His wolf growled at the possessive pronoun but he managed to keep it silent.
“She seems nice.”
“Hmm. She’s also jumpy as a rabbit.” The gargoyle’s stone features were hard to read, but Eric caught the slight narrowing of his eyes.
“How’s she working out?”
“Better than I expected.” Garrick crossed his arms, granite skin catching the light. “She’s already made a difference. The kitchen hasn’t been that clean in decades. I even found her reorganizing the library at dawn this morning.”
“Dawn?”
“Mmm. Said she couldn’t sleep.” The other male’s wings shifted, a tell he recognized from their years of friendship. “Strange hours for a human.”
“You think there’s more to her story.”
“Don’t you?” Stone lips quirked. “But she works hard and stays busy. That’s enough for me.”
He tamped down a growl. Trust Garrick to play guardian to another stray. Still, better the gargoyle than someone less… honorable.
“Just keep an eye on her.” He turned to leave, then paused. “And Garrick? Thanks for giving her a chance.”
The gargoyle’s rumbling laugh followed him down the path. “Careful, Sheriff. Your soft spot is showing.”
As he headed back to his office he considered Robin’s reaction to him. Most humans were wary of werewolves, true. But her fear ran deeper than that instinctive uneasiness. Her scent carried too many layers of old terror, like wounds that hadn’t quite healed.