Changeling Dawn Read online

Page 12


  If Kenzie rejected him because of his ethnicity—that was the ten-dollar word for it these days—he’d be disappointed in her but he could deal. Never in his wildest dreams did he expect he’d be written off because of his species. Under normal circumstances, he’d find it hilarious, except that he was already in over his head with this woman.

  What made Kenzie so determined not to build relationships with humans? He supposed there was the age thing. He had no idea how old she really was. He did know that Doc Stanton was older than dirt, yet the vet didn’t exhibit any animosity toward humans—unless of course they didn’t treat their animals well. That brought up the point that not all humans were sterling examples of their species. As a shapeshifter, maybe Kenzie’d been on the receiving end of some poor treatment, perhaps even prejudice, herself.

  That thought made him crazy. Every protective instinct he had rushed to the forefront, willing to take on all comers to defend a woman he’d known for less than a month. He laughed at himself and the aggression eased off, like a lion settling reluctantly for its handler yet remaining watchful.

  Kenzie’s pickup appeared and pulled in beside his. She didn’t get out right away, and when she did, he could easily see the reluctance and the conflict in her body language. She was fighting with herself again. Part of her was interested in Josh and the other part was ... he wasn’t sure but he’d put his money on afraid. And that was a paradox in itself because she didn’t strike him as a woman who feared much of anything. There’d be no talking her out of her fear either, as he would a newbie in a firefight. In fact, getting Kenzie Macleod to accept him wasn’t so different from coaxing an injured wild animal to allow him to help it. In the short term, he’d probably be bitten for his efforts, and likely more than once. The long term, he sensed, just might be worth it.

  He decided to remain at his desk and allow her to come to him. He smiled as the door opened.

  “Josh?”

  “Right here, buried in paperwork.”

  She eyed the enormous moose head that dominated the cramped entry and came in. There was a grizzly pelt on the wall and several mounted raptors—eagles, hawks, and an owl—hung in various stages of flight from the ceiling. Visitors often instinctively ducked as they came in. The mounts were as much standard decor for a government wildlife office as the faded orange chairs from the seventies and the chipped countertop.

  “Somebody does a lot of hunting,” Kenzie said as she leaned on the counter.

  “The animals weren’t killed for display. Most of them ended up dead by accident—that moose was hit by a truck on a city street in Anchorage outside a Starbucks. Or else they were poached and then confiscated, like that bear.”

  “You look busy. I don’t want to take you away from your work.”

  “No busier than usual, and I have a large number of days off owed to me. You’re doing me a favor by taking me away from all this.” He slid papers into a file folder and stood up. “Ready?”

  “I guess so.”

  “I love your enthusiasm.” He held the office door open for her and nearly laughed at the glare she gave him. Then something occurred to him. “Hell, I don’t know what I was thinking. I’ll bet you’d like a chance to freshen up, maybe shower or something before we go to the city.”

  She looked down at herself—surveyed her dusty jeans, the smears on her shirt and the half-torn pocket over her breast—and he knew she hadn’t given a single thought to what she looked like until now. It was easy enough to understand. She lived in a camp in the middle of nowhere and dug in the dirt for a living. Nobody to see, nobody to please ... He almost laughed at that. Kenzie Macleod wasn’t the type to be concerned about pleasing anyone. Surprisingly, it only made her sexier.

  “Crap.” She swiped a hand through her hair and only succeeded in making it stand on end. “I can’t show up at a shopping mall like this. People will stare.”

  “Well, I’d still be proud to hold your hand, but if you’d like to tidy up, my house is yours.” The wary look she gave him made him add something else. “And if you’d be more comfortable, I could just come back and finish up my paperwork while you’re there.” It sure as hell wasn’t his first choice, but it did have a couple of advantages. One, she might feel comfortable enough to actually accept the offer if he wasn’t going to hang around, and two, the thought of her in his shower was enough to make him need a shower himself—a cold one.

  “You wouldn’t mind? I’ll be quick. And you certainly don’t have to leave your own house.”

  “All right then.” She’d probably deck him if she knew how happy that made him. He wondered if his sister, Sam, had left any clothes in the spare room the last time she’d visited. Probably not, but it was worth a look. Maybe they could find something at Whitford’s Trading Post before they left town. Nothing classy there of course—the Post’s selection consisted of souvenir T-shirts and Carhartt work clothes—but anything clean and functional would work until Kenzie could buy something more stylish in the city. That is, if she even possessed a fashionable side. Was she all practicality, he wondered, or was there a softer side to her?

  For the first time in his life, he was excited about shopping.

  It wasn’t a surprise that Josh owned a house, but Kenzie was expecting a small bungalow in town. Instead, he drove back along the highway and entered a laneway that wound through thick trees. A sprawling log home, rustic yet modern, gracing a clearing and the vivid view of Mount Drum, snow-capped despite the summer season, made her heart ache. She got out of the truck slowly, drinking in the sights and smells.

  “This is just like a postcard. And the house blends right in like it grew here. It’s really yours?”

  “Bought it as a fixer-upper the year before I signed up. The owners had started building years ago but never finished it, so it was just a shell. There wasn’t a thing on the inside but some wires and a couple of lightbulbs. I figured the place would be a good investment and a good hobby, something to do in my spare time. When I first came home from Afghanistan, though, it was therapy. Worked for Fish and Game in the daytime, then came home and worked on the house half the night. Sometimes, if I couldn’t sleep, I’d get up and work on something. That’s how most of the drywalling got done.”

  She followed him inside to a massive great room with a vaulted ceiling. Wide windows faced the stunning mountain view. Armchairs and couches sprawled around a large woodstove. The walls sported an eclectic collection of artwork and artifacts—everything from deer antlers and snowshoes to sepia photos and paintings of wildlife. The effect was a “lodge” look that was comfortable and welcoming. Kenzie thought it would be even more inviting in the wintertime.

  “Shower’s this way.” Josh led her to a guest bedroom that was dominated by a rustic four-poster bed and a colorful red and blue quilt. He crossed the room and checked the drawers of a wide pine dresser. “My sisters stay here when they visit. Aha!” He held aloft a pair of T-shirts, one pink with Alaska Girls Kick Ass emblazoned in rhinestones across the front, and a scoop-necked charcoal one with a black gothic pattern. He laid them on the bed and proceeded to check the closet, but it held only a couple of jackets and a bridesmaid’s dress in a clear plastic sheath. “I’m sorry, I guess all we have are the shirts. Look, give me your jeans and I’ll put them through the dryer while you shower.”

  “What? They’re not wet.”

  “I probably shouldn’t reveal this to you, but it’s an old bachelor’s secret. Put the jeans into the dryer with a damp washcloth and a couple of fabric softener sheets and voilà—they’re fit for human company again.”

  “An old bachelor’s secret, eh? Sounds like something guys learn in high school.”

  “Hey, you can’t acquire life skills too early. Just leave the jeans outside the bedroom door and I’ll take care of it. Meanwhile, there’re towels in the bathroom, and shampoo and all that stuff.” He waved and left the room, closing the door behind him.

  Kenzie stood for a few minutes gazing at the back
of the door. She’d never met anyone like him. A little voice in her head warned her that the more time she spent with Josh Talarkoteen, the harder it would be to avoid becoming involved. And no good could come of having a relationship with a human. Sure, Connor and James would probably laugh at her if she said that out loud. Both of her brothers’ mates had been human to start with, and everything had worked out great.

  So why was she still averse to the idea? And if she was truly averse to the idea, why was she so attracted to him? Because there was no denying the pull she felt. Worse, her wolf seemed to feel it even more than she did, and she did not want to think what that might mean.

  Still, what was it Birkie had said? Don’t close the door on possibilities. That and something about being openhearted and receptive to the universe or some such thing. Kenzie sighed. What could happen if she just relaxed and tried to enjoy Josh’s company? She’d been able to do that with Nate once upon a time. Just have fun and not worry about anything more. Her work and her cause meant a lot to her, but when was the last time she’d taken a break? A real one? Maybe it would be a good idea to relax and clear her head for a couple of days, and then she could go back to her project refreshed and renewed. She might even be more effective, more intuitive on the dig.

  Right now there was a hot shower calling her name and a good-looking, intelligent guy who wanted to help her have a good time.

  Kenzie decided she wasn’t going to resist either one.

  Kenzie thought that a man who caught his own rabbits and cooked them over a fire he’d made himself shouldn’t appear so damn comfortable in an urban setting. But then, that was part of the unusual energy Josh Talarkoteen possessed. He was centered, as grounded as the ancient spruce that grew around her camp, as if his very soul had roots that went deep into the earth. At the same time he was fluid, in touch with everything around him, be it in the forest or on the main street—and apparently perfectly at home in either.

  The drive between Glennallen and Anchorage was only a couple of hours, but they’d decided to stay in the city for the sake of time. He’d picked an upscale hotel and she was surprised that it was in the heart of the downtown. It was just down the street from what he called the best Italian restaurant in Alaska, and their rooms—two adjacent—boasted stunning views of the city and the mountains beyond. She teased him mercilessly about the décor, however. It was as rustic and lodge-like as his living room, replete with lamps made of antlers and paintings of moose and caribou.

  The next morning they hit the ground running as soon as the malls opened. For someone who claimed to dislike shopping, Josh was unexpectedly good at it. He not only accepted it as necessary, he approached it like a mission. He had her make a careful list of every last item she needed, and added a few things he felt she should have. He knew exactly what stores to go to and which to avoid. In fact, Josh often knew more than the salespeople about wilderness gear and made some great recommendations. She might have expected that since it was something he was keenly interested in, but she was surprised when he made suggestions on clothing too, and said so.

  “Hey, I had sisters. When I was growing up, somebody had to follow them around and keep them out of trouble.”

  “I thought you didn’t like shopping.”

  “I don’t. I just believe in being as efficient at it as possible. Then it’s over sooner.”

  “What if I wanted to browse? Maybe look at jewelry or purses or something?”

  He shrugged good-naturedly. “Then we’d be browsing. I’d hide the excruciating pain it would cause me because this expedition is for you and I want you to have fun. But it doesn’t seem to be your thing.”

  “No, it’s really not. My sister-in-law, Zoey, says I’m shopping challenged. I’m really more of a museum kind of person when I go to town.”

  “Yeah? I could get into that—we’ve got a pretty good museum here that I’ll bet you’ve never seen.” He held up the list. “As soon as we cross off underwear, we can go.”

  “I have no intention of shopping for lingerie with you.”

  “Well, I’m not keen on being seen in that department either. Unless of course, I get to pick out stuff that would look good on you—”

  “No!”

  “Then I’ll wait in the food court with the rest of the banished males.”

  She ended up lingering over the lingerie. She’d picked up some packages of sturdy briefs that would be practical but couldn’t pass by a bin of colorful little thongs and sleek high-cut bikinis. They were fragile and wouldn’t last long in her camp environment—and they sure wouldn’t be comfortable to work in—but they looked so vibrant and fun that she couldn’t resist. Same with the bras. She already had what she needed in her basket but a couple of the brightly colored bras (and a satiny merlot one that called her name) made it to the sales counter as well. She refused to think about when she might wear them or why.

  Josh saw her long before she spotted him, and for a few moments he enjoyed simply watching her. He liked the way she moved, her stride purposeful yet graceful. Those worn blue jeans sheathed long, long legs, and damned if he didn’t wonder what they’d feel like wrapped around him. That old charcoal T-shirt definitely looked good on Kenzie—or perhaps she made it look good. For one thing, the color of it seemed to set off her big gray eyes. For another, it hugged her shape, something that was usually hidden away under a plaid work shirt, and it was a shape worth showing off. The palm of his hand ached to cup one of those nicely rounded breasts—

  Quit drooling, Tark. He managed to put a semi-intelligent look back on his face just as she saw him and came over.

  “Hey.” She walked all the way around him, table, chairs, and all. “You got quite a haircut. Nice.”

  “I caught sight of myself in a mirror while you were looking at jeans. Felt like Shaggy on Scooby Doo.” He’d had the hairdresser take it all off, right up to the ears. She’d styled it well too but he hadn’t realized just how heavy his long hair had been. “Of course now it feels like my head’s going to float away.”

  Kenzie laughed. “We’ll tie a string to it. So, I’ve been good and finished all my shopping. Do I get to go to the museum now?”

  The museum, the moon, anywhere you want to go. “I don’t know—I think I should inspect what you bought and make sure it’s suitable.”

  She clutched the lingerie bag to her in mock horror. Maybe not so mock ... He grinned. “Okay, we’ll head out to the museum. And afterward we’re going to dinner. I’m starving.”

  “You’re in a food court—how is that possible?”

  “I’m a fan of real food, remember? Besides, I made reservations for us at a great place.”

  “Reservations is such a strong word. Sounds an awful lot like a date. Which you will remember, I said I’m not doing with you.”

  “You did say that. But that was before we bonded over shopping.”

  “This was not true shopping. You consulted while I purchased necessary supplies. I’m not dating you.”

  “Is that your final answer? Because you’re forcing me to pull out the big guns.”

  “What big guns?”

  “I have a new phone number on speed dial that you might find interesting.” He rattled it off and her mouth dropped open.

  “Where the hell did you get that?”

  “It’s not hard. You said your brother’s a veterinarian just like Stanton—and there aren’t many animal doctors in your little hometown. Two, to be exact, and they both work at the same clinic. I’ll just bet Dr. Connor Macleod would love to hear how you turned down a date with a good-looking veteran who has a respectable government job and owns his own house. You know how family works—you’ll never hear the end of it from your big brother. Maybe you’ll get lucky and he’ll tell your other three big brothers and they’ll all gang up on you. Not to mention your big sister.”

  She folded her arms then and her chin came up. “I don’t care. Go ahead and call him. I’m not going out with you.”

  “And
then of course, there’s Mom and Dad, the sisters-in-law, great aunt, family friends ... all of them wanting their little Mackenzie to be happy.”

  “I am happy, dammit.” She looked like she was starting to sweat.

  In slow motion, he pulled out his cell phone and poised his finger over a button....

  “Okay, okay, you win. One—just one—date. But that’s all.” She didn’t look at Josh, just stalked off toward the nearest exit. “Do you get all your dates by blackmail?”

  “Nope,” he said cheerily as he easily kept pace with her. “Only the ones that matter.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Nate left the curator’s office, dodged a crowd of boy scouts trooping past a woolly mammoth skeleton, and headed for the escalator. The meeting had gone well, well enough to garner him an invitation to the museum patron’s ball plus an idea of who else would be attending. He’d be able to work the room there, no problem, drum up enthusiasm for a cooperative effort between his department at NYU and the University of Alaska. The caves on Prince of Wales Island had yielded the oldest human remains in the Great State, but what was really going to bring in the donor dollars was—

  His Changeling hearing suddenly picked out one very familiar voice amid the many. Startled, he followed the sound to a display wing to find Kenzie Macleod explaining the history behind an ancient copper knife to a tall native man. As Nate rounded a pillar, the man—a human—put a hand on her shoulder and she turned toward him slightly as she continued. The hairs on the back of Nate’s neck bristled and the wolf within him snarled. Who the hell is that?

  He dodged back behind the pillar and took several deep breaths. If he wasn’t careful, he would Change right then and there. Kenzie was easily twenty yards away but he didn’t need to be any closer to catch every word. His wolfen senses weren’t as powerful when he was in two-legged form but his hearing still exceeded that of ordinary humans. He sniffed the air and wished he hadn’t—renovations of one of the galleries had sent paint fumes throughout the building. He could pick out Kenzie’s scent only with difficulty and that reassured him. The ventilation system was sending the air currents his way, making it highly unlikely that she would smell him.