Page 64 of Ravaged Wolf
Granddad takes a sip of water, pausing for effect.
“What I never understood was how you heard her whimper with all the rain and the raging flood,” Flora takes the opportunity to ask.
The furrows on Granddad’s forehead deepen. “I don’t understand it, either. By all rights, I shouldn’t have been able to hear it, and it was a wolf’s whimper, not a female’s, and Tandie—her name was Tandie Boyle—she was in her skin. That little island she was sitting on shouldn’t have been there either. Some branches had been swept downstream and were diverting the current.”
“Fate,” Flora says softly.
“Or witchcraft,” Granddad suggests, his voice dropping to a whisper. He does have a flare for the dramatic. “Anyway, there was no time. The water was rising. Now my wolf had never been a strong swimmer, but if I spent the time and energy shifting, I would’ve never been able to get to her. I had no choice but leap in and doggie paddle for it.”
Izzy gasps, and Granddad pauses a moment to bask.
He sips his water and continues. “It took every ounce of strength I possessed to fight that current. I gulped down so many mouthfuls of water that my belly swelled up, dragging me down like an anchor. Many times, I almost gave up, but a voice in my head said, ‘Roderick, you can’t give up now. That poor little female will surely die.’”
Izzy’s lips are parted as she hangs on every word, so invested that she’s clutching a sheet. My chest warms. I love to see her like this. Riveted.
“Well, I wasn’t as old then as I am now, but I hadn’t been a young wolf in many years. Sadly, mid-stream, my energy began to flag. I paddled, and I kicked, but I was taking on water, you could say. Tandie creeped to the edge and reached for me, but I was too far away. I thought for sure it was lights out for the both of us when I heard a shout from the bank. ‘Hold on!’”
Granddad cups his hands around his mouth to deliver the line. My face heats, and I can’t look at Izzy anymore. I swear, the story used to be shorter.
“This young male of yours strolled into the roaring deluge like it was nothing. It knocked him over, and swept him downstream, and when I thought that we were done for, he popped up, hauling himself up on a fallen tree, and fought his way back to us only to be knocked over again. I managed to get close enough so that Tandie could fish me out, but I was done. I could only lie there and watch this one do battle with the flood coming down the mountain.”
“Why didn’t you shift?” Izzy asks. I glance over. Her face is etched with worry. For me. I want to wrap her in my arms, and kiss her for it, and lie to her that I was never in danger, and go back in time and whack myself upside the head for being so reckless when she was out in the world alone.
I clear my throat. “I knew I’d have to carry them both to shore. Couldn’t do that as my wolf, and I was losing strength. I couldn’t rely on being able to shift back to my skin when I got to them.”
“And that’s what he did. He tucked my wolf under one arm and carried the female on his shoulder, wading through the water up to his chest. He lost his footing a few times on the trek back, but he didn’t go under, and he didn’t drop either of us until we were safe on dry land.” Granddad smiles at me fondly.
Before that day, he hadn’t paid me any mind, but afterward, he adopted me as his gopher, calling me at all hours to fetch him things or check out suspicious noises outside. The raccoons at the trashcans behind the garage came to know me so well, they wouldn’t run when they saw me. It was a few years before I came to appreciate that he wasn’t having me fetch and carry for his convenience. He saw a male drowning and decided not to let him.
“How did Tandie get stuck in the middle of the river?” Izzy asks.
Granddad shakes his head. “She didn’t say, and I never got the chance to ask her. She’s under the care of the Blackburns, and they keep her on a tight leash.” He shrugs. “Maybe she was out fishing.”
I don’t think that’s it. I have no evidence—just a gut feeling—but I’ve often wondered if she was waiting for the river to carry her away, and we didn’t so much rescue her as foil her plans. If so, that’s two of us who Granddad saved despite ourselves.
Just then we’re interrupted by a whistle from the woods. Izzy tenses. I turn to stand between her and our visitor although I’ve already caught a whiff of him.
Alec Cameron strides out of the trees, stopping a good ten feet away out of respect. It’s clear from the mud spackling his clothes that he’s already been working for a while. He’s one of the few who rises at dawn and works ‘til dusk. He’s always earning his place. I understand that.
“Good morning,” he calls over.
I hop down and walk over to greet him so he doesn’t come closer. Izzy’s pulled a blanket up to her chin. Her uneasiness singes my nose.
“Five more minutes,” Flora sings out as she helps Granddad with his boots.
“You said you’d be five minutes an hour ago,” Alec grumbles, but not loud enough that she can hear.
He shoves his hands in his pockets, preparing for a wait, and gives me a nod. “How goes the elder cabin?”
“Good. Framing’s almost done. Should be starting the rafters today or tomorrow.” My gut knots. These are long days, and I don’t want to leave Izzy for so long, even nearby in the den. My wolf is sulking at the prospect.
“Rafters, eh?” Alec turns his head to watch Flora fussover Granddad’s shirt buttons and says, “Why don’t I take that over for a few days, eh?”
“I couldn’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t. I’m offering. I could do with some outside work for a change.” He turns back to me and grins. “Maybe I come home not smelling like pipe sludge for a few days, my mate will be tempted into a second heat. Have you seen my pup? She’s adorable. I need another one.”
Alec isn’t much of a talker. Even though we’ve ended up as de facto family through Granddad, this might be the most he’s ever said to me.
