Page 99 of Abel's Omega
I might as well have made the sun shine at midnight, he looked so impressed. “I love strawberries. We hardly ever get them.”
“Does your mate not feed you?”
“Oh, yes, he does, but you know how expensive strawberries are.”
I did, or I used to. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it.”
We had just finished our snack when the first of the men showed up, looking for something to drink. Abel was bright red, and I worried about heatstroke. “You’re not used to this heat. I’m not used to it, and I used to live here.” I soaked a cloth in cold water and laid it on the back of his neck, making him wince. “Drink.” I set a tall glass of the mint tea in front of him. “Slowly.” I did the same for Mac, who was just as red, and for Justin, though it burned my ass to do anything for him. He had Bram on a line and was reeling him in and I didn’t like the way he talked about it.
Vitale had apparently been roped into helping with lunch. I supposed his mate had volunteered him, but I was glad of the help all the same. Raleigh stuck around too, at first, but his increasing edginess made me send him home to his mate, with a secret helping of what we were making for the Alpha and the rest of the workers to soften his mate’s irritation.
We brought out plates of cold meat and potato salad, fried green tomatoes from the pack garden, cornbread that I’d made as soon as the men set out that morning, coleslaw, also made fresh that morning, and biscuits with butter and jam. Vitale poured the tea for the men while I ran back and forth, making sure they had everything they wanted, then Vitale took a seat out of the way, ready to fetch anything the men wanted, while I retreated to the kitchen to start water for washing up and get plates out and ready for the cobbler Holland had taught me to make before we left.
All in all, it went smoothly, and I blessed those last frantic days, getting clothes made, getting the pups organized, and long evenings of intense cooking lessons from Holland, who wasn’t going to let me set foot outside walls while my cooking still ranked with that of the local pre-teens. I was beginning to think that my problem with cooking had been my attitude, not any lack of ability on my part, and I thoroughly regretted it, because Abel was the one paying the price for my stubbornness by eating boring food.
The men left and Vitale and I cleaned up, then he left, but Raleigh came back with all three of his pups, and we went for a walk down to the stream to let the pups play. When the sun started to slant into the west, we came back to start supper. Raleigh disappeared into the bathroom to try to clean a stain off his shirt, and came back a few minutes later wearing a troubled look.
“It won’t come out?” I said in sympathy.
He nodded. “I don’t have many company shirts. And I can’t wear this in front of the Alphas.” He stared down at the mottled green and brown patch spoiling his pale blue shirt, the unspoken knowledge that his mate Degan wouldn’t be pleased rising like the smell of rotting meat between us.
“Come with me,” I said. I glanced out the window to see the pups playing happily in the back yard, Fan watching over everyone like the alpha he was. They were good, so I took Raleigh down to the guest rooms and opened the drawer with my clothes in it. “We’re about the same size. I bet this one would look good on you.” He had dark hair and fair skin, though not as fair as mine, and the pale yellow would look good on him. It was a fine cotton, nicer than the blue one he was wearing, but I could get another one with my pack credits, and Raleigh needed it more than I did. “Here, you can have this one. It’s not really as good a color on me as I thought it would be.” I handed it to him. “You’ll have to wear an apron—everything will show on that.”
“Oh, I can’t, that’s yours!” But his eyes caressed the fabric in open longing.
“Phht,” I said in casual dismissal. “Abel will buy me another one. Besides, he thinks this one makes me look sallow.” He’d said no such thing, but it was something he might have said if he were that type of Alpha. “Take it.” I held it up against him. “Yes, that suits you much better than me.” I left him to get changed and went back out to the kitchen to put the pups’ suppers together.
A few minutes later, Raleigh crept around the corner into the kitchen and smiled at me, and I realized I’d finally made a friend here.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE
And now we were on our way to Montana Border, a three day trip just getting there. The Jackson-Jellystone shifters were staying, and we were down to just Abel and I and the pups, plus Justin and Mac, and a man named Bert, who was there for something to do with the plumbing. I was both excited for Jason, and nervous. Maybe things would go right this time—he was about due some good luck. I hoped.
Everything was packed into the van and the truck. Mac, Bert—a plumber—and Justin got into the truck and Abel was saying a last few words to Roland about looking after the panels when a commotion down the road got our attention.
It was Degan, dragging Raleigh down the road by his hair. Raleigh stumbled and cried as they came. To my horror, I noticed the flap of pale yellow cloth in Degan’s other hand. “Oh, fuck,” I whispered, and quickly shut the van door in hopes that the pups at least wouldn’t be able to hear this.
I hadn’t thought what Raleigh’s mate might believe when I’d given in to that impulse of generosity last night. And now my stomach sank as I saw it all go so wrong, like things always did for me when I tried to overreach my position as omega. I should know better by now—I wasn’t stupid.
“Alpha Mercy Hills,” Degan called when they were within earshot. “I have to apologize for my mate. He’s not the brightest shifter in the world.” He held out the crumpled cloth. “More fool me, I believed him that the food yesterday was a gift in thanks for his help. I’ve beaten him for that, but I’ll bow to your wishes if you think he needs to be punished more. Obviously, his success yesterday led him to believe I wouldn’t notice clothing he didn’t earn, or that you wouldn’t notice the absence of your possessions.” He threw Raleigh weeping to the ground.
“Bax?” Abel said, his voice tight with strain. He sounded angry, but I heard the real emotions in his voice: frustration, disbelief, sadness, guilt.
I stepped quickly to his side, my heart racing with fear for Raleigh. “I gave it to him. We had an accident down by the creek and he needed something else to wear. It’s never been a good color for me, so I gave it to him, to say thank you for his help with the pups yesterday.”
“And the food?” he asked gently. We were on the same page now and I could see in his face that he’d guessed the whole of it.
“We kept him late making lunch. It was meant to be an apology.” I bowed my head and leaned into Abel for support. My hands shook with both anger and fear, so I balled them in the hem of his t-shirt.
“I see,” Abel said, and kissed my head, then put me away from him. He stepped forward and helped Raleigh to his feet, whispering to him as he did so. Raleigh looked startled, then doubtful, and looked to me for some confirmation of whatever Abel had said. I didn’t know what it was, but I trusted my mate, so I nodded assurance to him.
Then Abel turned to Degan and held out his hand for the shirt. “Bax has my permission to be kind where he sees need. I have always found his judgments to be sound.” He held the shirt out to Raleigh. I heard him murmur, “Remember,” and then he was coming back to me. “We need to get going or we won’t get to the hotel in time to eat before curfew.”
I ducked my head in shame and hurried to the van, crawling into the back with the pups to sit with my eyes down and hands clasped in my lap. The pups were silent, perhaps sensing my own tension. They could be shockingly adult sometimes, a trait I wasn’t sure whether to be worried about or grateful for.
Abel spoke again to Roland, and then, to my surprise, pulled out his wallet and gave Roland some human money out of it. With a final handshake, he got into the passenger side seat and nodded to Edmond, who we’d brought with us to have a chance to get used to how different other packs could be.
“Let’s go,” he said grimly.
