Page 26 of Cowboy Wolf Christmas

Silas wrapped an arm around her, pulling closer where she was settled against him. Having the curved peach of her ass right up on him for the better part of an hour wasn’t doing a damn thing for his self-control, and he felt his wolf stir in awareness. But he was trying to be patient. Not push her into anything. He’d wait for her to come to him. Whenever she was ready.

Before they’d left, she’d insisted she could ride her own horse. Oreo was its name apparently. When he’d asked her, “why Oreo?” she’d simply shrugged and said she liked cookies, which didn’t surprise him in the least, considering she always smelled like vanilla and sugar. Fitting for a woman so sweet. But he’d insisted they ride together.

He wanted to keep her close, warm, happy.

Whatever she needed him to be.

“This isn’t the first time they’ve left me,” she said suddenly, her breath swirling around him into the ether. The forest was dark, still, filled with the kind of quiet only created by the falling snow. They were nearly three-quarters of the way to their destination, and they’d spent most of the ride in companionable silence. A different kind from how the truck ride been this morning. More comfortable. There weren’t any secrets between them any longer.

Nothing to hide.

He liked that.

“The first time?” he mumbled, careful to keep his voice low since he was speaking directly into her ear. “Was it intentional?” He didn’t know what he might do to her packmates if it was, but he couldn’t consider that at the moment.

All he could consider was letting her talk, heal.

Cheyenne shook her head. “I don’t know. Intention is hard for me to understand.”

“Why don’t you explain it to me?” he whispered, urging her on.

Maybe talking to him would help her make sense of it. From the way the words had fallen out of her, so fast and abruptly, like they couldn’t wait to escape a moment longer, he got the impression this was something she needed to get off her chest.

“There’s not much to tell. I was a teenager. Maybe fourteen. It was supposed to be the first year I went on the shift-and-run. But I didn’t mature, emotionally I mean, as fast as other girls. I was angry at my mother for something. I can’t even remember what. But I was having a bit of a meltdown. Probably over something she thought was silly, but it wasn’t to me. It was Christmas. I was overwhelmed, overstimulated, but she told me if I couldn’t,” she made air quotes with her hands, “‘cut my attitude’ to go sulk in my room the whole time.”

“And?”

“And I did. I didn’t know what cutting attitude meant or how to stop being me, so when I didn’t show up for the shift-and-run on time, everyone thought just I didn’t want to participate that year. Back then I tended to have more meltdowns around the holidays anyway, so I guess they just sort of figured I would take care of myself? Since I was a teen after all. . .” She shrugged as if it wasn’t a big thing, a huge ask of an autistic fourteen-year-old. “I sat alone in my room for two days waiting for them to come back. To come and get me. Like my mother told me to do.”

“Jesus,” Silas swore.

“I take things pretty literally. Even more then than now. I’ve gotten better at hiding it, I guess.” She sighed. “I was diagnosed shortly after that. The pack doctors weren’t really sure what to do with me. It’s not like autism is that common among our kind.”

“More common than you’d think.”

She glanced over her shoulder to look at him, silently asking.

“My younger brother,” he clarified with a shrug of his own. “But it was a long time ago and he was a kid at the time, so I-I didn’t recognize it with you at first.”

“Gender is a diagnosis barrier,” she said, like she was reading the line aloud from a textbook. “People expect autism to occur more in boys than girls. We get diagnosed less.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” he whispered. “That the pack didn’t recognize it sooner, I mean.”

“Maverick became packmaster not long after that. He made things better. Made certain there were accommodations for me. Support. I’d been trying to work myself up to going with them after that. No longer staying behind with the children. I’d told Maverick I thought I could finally handle it this year.” She hesitated. “Except that they forgot me again. They probably thought I’d changed my mind and didn’t want to go.”

“I’m sure there’s a reason,” Silas muttered. “More than that.” Other than Cayden, though he wasn’t about to explain that at present. And if therewasn’ta good reason he and his new packmaster were going to have a problem. A big one. One that could only be solved with his canine teeth sinking into the other wolf.

A beat of silence passed between them.

“Where are we headed?” Cheyenne asked, finally.

The gentle sway of his horse beneath them was calm, steady. There was no hurry. They had all night and already they were almost there.

“You’ll see.”

A way ahead, a clearing in the trees parted to reveal one of the Grey Wolves’ guest halls, a massive several story mansion of a cabin buried in the woods, used to house other shifter clans, a whole pack, when they came to stay for Seven Range Pact business. Several lights glowed inside, where a few members of the pack were still awake. He’d relocated them there as soon as possible, once he’d made certain it was secure, safe.

“Why are we here?” Cheyenne asked.

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