The older woman sighed at the other end of the line. “Just promise you’ll be careful.”
“But—”
“But nothing. You’re a grown woman now.” She heard a sniffle across the phone lines. Was her grandmother crying? She never cried. “I want you to be happy, baby. You work too hard, and you never take a break. You deserve this. When will you be back?”
Maple swallowed around the lump in her throat. “I took a month off, but I should be back in the city in a couple of weeks.”
“I still expect a call every Saturday.”
“You know I look forward to our calls as much as you do, Grandma. I miss you.”
“I miss you, too, baby. Now, bingo is about to start. I best put some gloss on and get down there to get a good seat next to the caller. He’s a handsome devil, that Mr. Hunter.”
Maple shook her head. The woman was incorrigible. “Good luck.”
“Don’t forget to call, and for God’s sake, don’t go wandering into the woods at night. You know what’s lurking in that forest,” her grandmother warned.
Maple chuckled. She remembered. Werewolves. At least, that’s what her grandparents had used to scare her from going into the forest alone when she’d been a child. “I won’t. Love you.”
“Love you, too, baby.”
Maple stood staring at the phone for a moment before untangling the cord and hanging the receiver on the cradle. The old rotary had seen better days. Hell, she was surprised it still worked at all with the frayed cord and the wobbly, mustard yellow box on the wall. Maybe she’d pick up a cordless the next time she went to town to be safe. She was looking forward to the solitude her time at the cabin would bring, but she wasn’t an idiot. She needed to make sure she could call someone for help if need be. There may not be werewolves around, but there were plenty of wild animals.
Taking a deep breath, she looked around. Time to get to work. If she was going to stay there for a few weeks, she’d best get it in liveable shape again.
First, fresh linens, then she’d tackle the dust. She hoped the old machine would still work after all these years. She turned the knob and waited. After a groaning shake of the pipes, nasty smelling, rusty colored fluid came trickling into the tub. It took a minute, but the water came faster and eventually cleared, taking the rotten smell with it. So far, so good. No water was coming out from under the old wringer washer. It would be a pain to use but better than finding a laundromat in town. She drained the sludge, washed and rinsed the tub, then started the machine. Yes.
Everything was going better than she could have hoped for. With a smile on her lips and her spirits higher than they’d been in a long time, Maple turned the old radio up loud and set out to clean the cabin she’d once called home. She took a break for lunch and kept going. By the time she was done, her T-shirt clung to her sweaty body, and streaks of dirt covered her face.
All she needed now was a hot shower. Stripping down, she tossed her dirty laundry into a pile in the corner and turned the faucets in the tub. There should have been some sort of resistance, but the taps spun and nothing happened. Crap.
She tried turning the faucet again, but it wouldn’t catch on whatever it was supposed to catch. Double crap. Even if she went into Dexter, the little town up the road as dirty as she was, there was no way she’d find a plumber to come out and fix it this late in the day. Not to mention the cost of getting it done after hours. The idea of a quick wash at the sink was almost as repulsive as remaining in her filth. Thankfully, she’d thought ahead and bought a camping shower on her way to the cabin. It wasn’t ideal, but at least she wouldn’t be climbing into her clothesline-fresh-sheets smelling like death had warmed over when she went to bed tonight.
Two
Jaxon Barnet’s heart pounded so loud he could hear nothing else. Not the birds, not the wind rustling through the leaves. Nothing but the heavy beat blasting through him. His claws couldn’t quite catch deep enough into the soft dirt to propel his body as fast as his wolf demanded he run. After nearly twenty years—twenty fucking years—the scent that he’d been searching for had returned.
He’d been on his way for one last check on the old Hudson property before heading out of town when the sweetest smell had curled around him, making his steps falter and his heart all but explode from his chest. After months of his pack harassing him to find a mate, he’d finally agreed to attend the scenting ceremony Barbara Wolfe had organized. Had he not come out for one more run, he would have missed her. Maple Hudson. The one who had haunted his dreams for the last two decades. His mate.
The first few months after Maple and her grandmother had moved away had been the hardest. He’d come to the cabin every day, hoping against hope she’d be there waiting for him, but with each passing sunset, her scent had grown fainter until it had disappeared altogether. His brother had long since called him a fool and urged him to stop torturing himself with what could have been, but Jaxon had never given up.
Of course, he didn’t go to the old cabin on Wassookeag Lake all that often anymore, but when the full moon was cresting, he couldn’t resist. The wolf inside had never gotten over the loss.
At the time, he’d been furious with Mrs. Hudson for taking his mate away. Maple had
