“Where is everybody?” I asked.
“After you used your face to break Maggie’s hand—” Gracie shot a stern look toward Samson. He prattled on, oblivious. “Cooper, Eli, and the doc took Pops to the hospital. Cooper wanted to stay with you, but I told him I’d keep an eye on you. Eli and Dr. Moder were sort of afraid they’d get Pops to the hospital and he’d change his mind unless Cooper was there to nudge him inside.”
“Where’s Maggie?” I asked.
“Well, I picked you up off the ground and carried you into the house. Cooper phased and tackled Maggie. There was a good bloody brawl that we will be talking about for years. Gracie jumped between them and made them both phase back to human. Maggie started yelling that it was Cooper’s fault for bringing some human here in the first place, and what the hell did he think he was doing showing up after all this time . . .” Samson seemed to realize that he needed to edit himself. “The end result was that Eli told Maggie she needed to go on a long run to think about her actions. It’s like banishing her from the village for three days.”
“So the angry face-bruising werewolf is going to blame me for her getting grounded?” I moaned. “Fantastic.”
“I am very sorry for my daughter’s actions,” Gracie said, her lip trembling a little as she dabbed the area around my eye with a thick, yellow, strong-smelling salve. “She hasn’t been the same since Cooper left. She’s a very angry young woman. I have tried talking to her about controlling herself, but nothing helps. Eli can usually talk some sense into her. But seeing Cooper face-to-face after such a long time . . .”
“It’s not a big deal. I probably shouldn’t have interfered like that. I’ve definitely learned my lesson,” I said, wincing as she probed the tender spot just under my lashes. “I just couldn’t watch her go after Cooper like that.”
Gracie offered me a warm, gratified smile.
“Attacking Cooper’s mate is a big deal,” Samson assured me, suddenly looking fierce. “Maggie should be ashamed of what she did. It was an insult to everyone there. No matter what you said to her, or hit her with, she shouldn’t have gone after you like that. You’re a human. You didn’t stand a chance.”
“Thanks,” I muttered, not bothering to correct his “mate” assumption. “How’s Cooper?”
“Pissed, which is a good sign, I think. He’ll take that crap from Maggie, but the minute she laid a hand on you, all bets were off. He’s never drawn blood from her before, never pushed back like that, even when we were pups. It knocked her on her ass, in every sense of the word, which is good for her.” I nodded, staring down at my hands, which were covered with fire-extinguisher residue. “So, you’re handling the whole wolf deal pretty well,” he observed. “Most human women would have run for the hills by now.”
“I like Cooper, a lot,” I said, casting a cautious glance at his mother. “And I didn’t exactly have the most ‘orthodox’ upbringing, so I’m used to the slightly unusual.”
“Still,” Samson said, that touch of awe returning to his voice.
“You are either very brave or very odd to agree to come here,” Gracie said, lifting my chin. She seemed to be inspecting the damage but at the same time pinning me with her wide green eyes.
“It’s probably a mix of both,” I admitted.
“How do you feel?” she asked.
“Hungry,” I said. I checked the clock. It was almost five in the morning. Thank goodness it was Sunday, my day off, so I wouldn’t have to call in “concussion” and explain my ass-kicking at Maggie’s hands to Evie.
“I’ll make you some breakfast,” Gracie said, rising from the couch.
“No, actually, do you mind if I cook?” I asked, pushing myself to my feet. “It would probably settle my nerves a little bit. And you’re exhausted. Have you had any sleep?”
“No,” Gracie admitted.
“You sit, I’ll cook,” I told her. “The best way to tell if I have a concussion is seeing whether I remember all of the ingredients for a western omelet.”
Gracie protested, “I couldn’t let you—”
“Not so fast, Mom,” Samson said. “Cooper’s told me all about her cooking. Maybe we should let her get back on her feet.”
“Forgive Samson, he was raised by wolves,” she muttered.
I quirked an eyebrow. “Is this some sort of test? If I laugh at that joke, will I be tossed out?”
Samson barked out a laugh as he pulled me into the kitchen. “Didn’t I tell you, Mom?”
IF MY COOKING was any indicator of cranial well-being, I was concussion-free. The smell of sauteed onions and peppers, dosed with a little garlic, raised my spirits considerably. Gracie had a clean, orderly kitchen. Everything was just where you’d expect it to be. She made coffee, and she and Samson sat at the kitchen table, watching me cook.
There were more pictures in the kitchen. Cooper, Maggie, and Samson in happier times, sledding, fishing, making hideous faces at the camera. Maggie and Cooper were obviously close as kids. In almost every picture, she was right by his side, his arm slung around her shoulders.
“You’d never seen a sister who loved her brother as much as Maggie,” Gracie said, handing me a cup of coffee and nodding at the picture I’d been staring at. “Or a big brother who tolerated his baby sister hanging around as well as Cooper.”
“I’m sorry, I just don’t get it,” I said, stirring eggs into a pan. “If they were so close, why can’t she just forgive him? Or at least stop trying to rip his face off every time she sees him? Why is she so angry with him? Cooper told me he had to leave, but he’s never explained what that meant. I thought maybe it was that he didn’t feel welcomed by his family anymore, but I see that’s not true. What happened to make him feel like he couldn’t stay?”
Samson lifted an eyebrow. “He hasn’t told you?”
We heard a truck’s engine humming outside the house. I looked out the little kitchen window and saw Eli’s SUV pull to a stop in the driveway.
“Cooper should be the one to tell you,” Gracie said quietly.
As the front door opened, Samson said loudly, “And then I convinced Cooper to hold the umbrella and jump off the highest limb he could reach. I didn’t tell him to jump feet-first, though I thought that part was pretty obvious.”
I stared at Samson, bewildered. But Gracie managed to catch on and pick up the conversational thread easily. She sighed. “Samson and Cooper were never allowed to watch Mary Poppins again.”
“Which was OK, because we saw Superman, and I convinced Cooper to climb up on the roof with a red towel wrapped around his shoulders . . .”
“How many of your stories end this way?” I asked, finally catching on, as Cooper walked into the kitchen.
“They’re telling you humiliating stories from my childhood?” Cooper asked wearily as he crossed to the stove and inspected my bruised eye. Samson hopped to his feet and poured coffee for Cooper and for Eli, who trudged into the kitchen looking surprisingly chipper.
“Only good things,” Gracie promised.
I made a sour face. “Well, I wouldn’t consider prolonged bed wetting a good thing . . .”
Cooper’s mouth popped open in astonishment, and Gracie gave a long, hooting laugh. I cracked more eggs and stretched the filling for two more omelets as Eli and Cooper gave his mother an update on Noah. The tests showed no evidence of heart attack or stroke, but they were keeping him for observation just in case. Cooper looked down-to-the-bone weary, sagging in his chair against the kitchen table. I slid plates in front of them. Samson moaned in ecstasy as he forked his first bite into his mouth.
I turned back to the stove and heard Samson stage-whisper, “How open is your relationship, exactly?” I smiled to myself when a meaty punching sound was followed by Samson’s colorful string of profanities. “I was just asking!”
“Children,” Gracie warned, but she sounded pleased.
I leaned against the counter with my plate. Gracie tried to get me to sit, but I was happy to hang back, to watch Cooper with his family. But the longer he sat there, the more tense he became. He kept an eye on the front door at all times, occasionally looking up to me to make sure I was, I don’t know, safe? Still there? Eli picked up on his agitation and placed a hand on Cooper’s shoulder.
“We’ve got to go,” Cooper said, rising, shrugging off Eli. “I’m exhausted. Mo’s hurt. I’ll call you this afternoon
