Shifters' Haven: Vol 3 PRINT

Excerpt From: Nate's Deputy

"I'm sorry, Mr Stanford, but there isn't anything I can do. There was another bid on the property—a substantially higher bid than yours."

Nate lowered his gaze and twirled the Stetson in his hands. "My family has lived on that ranch for over four generations."

This couldn't be fucking happening. If Nate had known the ranch was in trouble, he would have gladly handed over the money his brother Rick was short to buy the property when the owners put it up for sale. When they hadn't been able to pay the mortgage and the house hadn't sold, the bank had foreclosed. Nate had waited six excruciatingly long months for the legalities of the foreclosure to be settled, before the bank put the property back on the market. The good news was that the property was being offered at a fraction of the original cost, but the lower price had attracted new interest, and now Nate found himself in the middle of a bidding war. Why the hell hadn't Rick contacted him? Nate would have helped.

Okay, so Nate supposed he knew the reason Rick didn't get in touch. Before he was killed, it had been two years since they'd last spoken. Two goddamn long ass years of them each holding a grudge after a damn stupid argument that never should have happened. Nate swallowed the lump in his throat that thoughts of his brother always produced.

He hadn't had time to tell Rick he was sorry for the things he'd said, and now he would never get the chance. His brother was gone, and Nate hadn't even been able to say goodbye. By the time Kelan Morgan had tracked Nate down on a farm in Montana to inform him of Rick's death, he'd already missed his brother's funeral. What pissed Nate off most was that his own sister Lucy hadn't even had the decency to let him know. Sure, she had a problem with Nate being queer, as she put it, but their baby brother had died. How could she be so heartless? To add insult to injury, it looked as though the house they'd grown up in was going to be sold out from under his nose.

Fortunately, Kelan had seen fit to give Nate a job and a place to live on his ranch until he could buy his childhood home. It was damn good of Kelan to help him out, especially after what Rick had done to Kelan's family.

Nate still couldn't believe Rick had kidnapped Luke Morgan and then handed him over to Ethan Walker like he was nothing more than a fucking commodity that he could make a few bucks from. When Kelan first told him what his brother had done, Nate hadn't been able to believe it, even though he knew Kelan would never lie. To have done that to Luke for money was despicable. Rick had to have known Ethan wanted to harm Luke, so why had he done it? That didn't sound like something his brother would have done—not the brother Nate knew at any rate. The brother Nate remembered would never have stooped so low. Had Rick really changed that much in the two years Nate had been gone, or had he merely been desperate enough to make a God-awful decision? It was pointless chewing it over, because Nate would never know Rick's motivation now that his brother was gone, and that ate him up inside.

Something that continued to surprise Nate was the way that Kelan treated him like one of the family. He didn't hold Nate responsible for his brother's actions and he hadn't once said a bad thing about Rick...not to Nate's face anyhow, but he must have been thinking it. If only Nate could be as forgiving. He was so close to hating his brother for what he'd done, but mostly he hated himself. If he hadn't distanced himself from Rick, if he had been there when his brother needed him, then maybe Rick would still be alive.

"I'm afraid it's out of my hands," the Realtor said, dragging Nate out of his morose thoughts. "That is, of course, unless you can up your offer on the property?"

A low growl started to form in Nate's chest but he kept it inside. The Realtor, Rodney, was human, and like the other humans in town he didn't know a thing about the wolves that lived among them, even though the wolves outnumbered the humans practically two to one. The last thing Nate needed was to expose their secret and send the guy screaming for the hills.

Rising stiffly from the chair, Nate gave Rodney a sharp nod. "I'll see what I can do."

"You need to move quickly. The person that made the offer is in a good position to move forward with the sale and time is running out. You only have another five days before the cut-off date for bidding."

Nate grunted and pulled open the office door. "I'll be in touch."

It was noon when Nate stepped out of the Realtor's office and strode across the street to his truck. The sun was already high in the azure, cloudless sky and about as hot as blue blazes. Nate squinted and slipped on his dark grey, felt Stetson, pulling it low to shield his eyes. Most other cowboys Nate knew wore straw cowboy hats, which were cooler in the heat, but Nate had never taken to them. He supposed he was old-fashioned at heart.

The weather had been cooler in Montana, decidedly so. Although he'd got used to the lower temperatures, Nate had always loved the heat and stickiness of a Texan summer. He'd missed it—hell he'd missed home—but if his bid on the ranch wasn't successful, there would be nothing left for him in Wolf Creek to call home. No reason at all for him to stick around.

"Nate, that you?"

Nate stopped walking and turned to see who had addressed him. Pete Johnson, a cowboy Nate had spent some time with several years ago, stood grinning back at him—his own cowboy hat tipped as low as Nate's. Pete was one of Kelan's betas. He had a few years on Nate but he'd kept himself in shape. He looked good. His dark hair was longer than Nate remembered and hanging loosely around his shoulders. His frame was the same as before though—large, muscular, and damn fine.

"Well, I'll be damned, I wondered when I was going to run into you. Howdy." Pete dipped his hat in greeting, a warm smile playing on full lips. "It's been a while."

Excerpt From: Gregory's Rebellion

"Well, go on." A brilliant smile spread across Mac’s face as he nodded to the present in Hayden’s hands. "Open it."

Hayden held on to the box as though it were made of glass. He stared at it longingly, allowing himself to get lost in the dream for just a moment, then shook his head and handed it back. "I can’t accept this, I’m sorry."

"Now listen here, you’ll offend an old man if you don’t keep it. And you don’t want to get on the wrong side of your boss now, do you?"

Hayden sighed. It had been a long time since anyone had given him a gift of any kind. He didn’t mean to be ungrateful, but he didn’t want Mac to think he was some sort of charity case.

"Uh, I don’t know..." Hayden chewed on his lip while he tried to decide what to do.

"Look, it’s your birthday and I’m giving you a gift. Get over it." Mac thrust the box back into Hayden’s hands.

"Fine, I’ll open it, but if it’s expensive I swear to God—"

"Will you quit yakking and open it already? I’m growing old here."

Hayden rolled his eyes but the corners of his mouth tugged up into a smile. He had to admit he was curious to know what was inside. He picked delicately at the tape holding the package together.

"Christ, son, you’re worse than my wife. You’re not planning on keeping the paper, are you?"

Hayden felt his cheeks flood with heat. He would never admit it to Mac but that had been exactly what he had in mind. The paper was purple and sparkly and he could use it for...well, for something.

Mac tapped his fingers impatiently on the kitchen worktop. Hayden finally managed to get the gift unwrapped, revealing a white cardboard box.

"What is it?"

"Jesus, kid, give it to me. I’ll open it myself."

"No, I can do it." Hayden lifted the lid on the box and peered inside.

He drew in a sharp breath, feeling a lump rise in the back of his throat, and tears began to form behind his eyes, threatening to shatter his resolve. It had been three years since he’d last cried and after the last time he’d sworn he never would again. But, as he stared from the gift in his hand to Mac’s speculative gaze, he felt cracks begin to form in his carefully constructed dam.

"Well?" Mac asked. "Do you like it? If it’s the wrong kind, I’m sure I can change it."

"No," Hayden said, "It’s perfect. It’s a, it’s a..."

"I know. It’s a Kindling." Mac sounded triumphant.

"A Kindle," Hayden corrected.

"Yeah, right. Well, I told my wife whenever you’re on a break you’ve always got some scratty book in your hand so she said you might like one of these. Apparently all the kids have them."

Hayden bristled at the word kid. Today was his twenty-first birthday so he was now officially a man, but he let the comment slide. Mac was practically old enough to be his grandfather, so to him he probably did seem like a kid.

"I don’t know what to say." Hayden swallowed down the lump in his throat, which had grown so big he felt as though he were choking on it.

Mac shrugged. "Just say thanks."

"Thank you,’ he whispered. He lifted his head to meet Mac’s gaze. It was something he didn’t do often, but, to his relief, Mac was looking him directly in the eye and his gaze didn’t once drift lower.

"Welcome."

Hayden sniffed and a solitary tear escaped his eye and trickled down his cheek.

"Now, now...we’ll have none of that." Mac cleared his throat and patted Hayden roughly on the back. "You’ll start me off. It’s nearly opening time and you don’t want my damn customers to think I’ve gone soft, do you?"