“I really think he could be the one for you,” her mother said. She meant Craig, of course, but all Carly saw was an image of Luke, looking deep into her eyes.

  “Carly! Carly!”

  Little Tana and her cousin, Holly, skipped up, as bright and sunny as the Arizona sky on a warm summer’s night. But it wasn’t summer, and Carly sensed ominous clouds looming somewhere beyond the horizon. She’d witnessed storms sweep over the ranch in a matter of minutes to batter the buildings with rain, hail, and wind. The desert could be like that, springing surprises from out of the blue.

  “I have to go, Mom,” Carly murmured.

  “Have fun, sweetheart. Kiss your father for me.”

  “I told you—” Carly started, then gave up. “Okay, Mom. Thanks for calling. Bye.”

  “Hi! Hi!” the girls cried, hugging her legs.

  Carly did her best to settle her emotions as she hugged them back. There was nothing to worry about. North Ridge pack had been warned to keep their guard up. And anyway, Craig was no match for her father, regardless of the age difference. Craig would have to assemble a solid group of powerful supporters to pose a genuine threat.

  So, really, there was nothing to worry about. Everything would be okay. Carly tucked her phone into her pocket and smiled at the kids.

  “Hi, girls. Ready to go?”

  “Ready!” Tana declared.

  “Can we feed the horses?” Holly begged.

  Carly nodded, trying to snap her focus to the kids.

  “We’ve been stuck at home all day,” Tana complained.

  Normally, her nieces had the run of the ranch, but with Luke around, their parents had kept the kids close to home. Well, Carly knew about needing the freedom to roam.

  “Sure. Let’s go feed the horses.”

  “Yay! Let’s go!” Tana cried.

  The kids grabbed her hands and hurried her up the hill, where the horses nickered in greeting.

  “Look! Missy had a baby.” Holly pointed at the palomino in the second pasture.

  “My mommy had a baby, too,” Tana said.

  Carly smiled. Yeah, that was one of the reasons for her visit — to meet her new nephew, Ty and Lana’s third child. Their third! She shook her head, wondering what had gotten into her brother and his sensible mate. Kids were lots of fun, but taking care of three of them? All the time?

  I think that would be nice, her wolf chipped in.

  “Aunt Tina and Uncle Rick are having a baby soon, too,” Holly said.

  Carly sighed. Friday nights were duller than ever on the ranch. It was funny how she always counted down the days to her next visit to the ranch, then counted down the time until she could leave again. To some undefined place she could get a fresh start in and call her own.

  “So you two will get another cousin soon,” she said as they walked.

  “How soon? Tomorrow?” Tana tried.

  “On my birthday!” Holly clapped. “Aunt Tina could have a baby on my birthday!”

  Carly laughed. Holly’s birthday was two weeks away, and Tina was still in her first trimester.

  “Sweetie, it takes nine months to make a baby.”

  “Why? How?”

  Carly kept her lips sealed. No way was she going to explain sex to a couple of curious preschoolers.

  And, whoa. Just the thought of sex made her mind slide straight over to that incredible night with Luke.

  I didn’t want that night to end, her wolf whimpered.

  Which was why she’d had to leave so quickly the morning after and why she’d been avoiding him — or trying to force herself to — over the past few days.

  The problem was, she’d been thinking of him day and night. Moping. Wishing. Thirsting for more. And the scary thing was, she wasn’t just daydreaming about the sex. She was thinking about watching him sleep or smiling that out-of-the-blue smile.

  “Are you going to have a baby, Carly?” Tana asked.

  She choked so violently, the nearest horses skittered away. “Um, I doubt it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because she needs a mate first,” Holly told Tana.

  Carly snorted. “Not getting mated, believe me. Never. And don’t let anyone tell you you have to, either.”

  “Daddy says I never have to get a mate,” Tana agreed.

  That, Carly could picture. Her brother, the big bad alpha, was already stressed about the thought of his little girl growing up. Ha. She couldn’t wait to see him dealing with his stubborn daughter then.

  “Why not? Holly asked. “Mommy says she loves Daddy. And Daddy loves her.”

  Carly waved her hand vaguely. It was hard to explain to someone who assumed the whole world had stable and loving parents. “Well, if you find the person you love, then it’s great. It’s just not for everyone.”

  Keep kidding yourself, her wolf snorted.

  “Daddy says I can get a dog when I’m grown up,” Tana announced.

  Carly smiled. Ty was right. Dogs loved you unconditionally. Dogs didn’t play power games the way men did.

  “So will you get a dog, Carly?” Holly persisted.

  Just Luke, her wolf replied. All I want is my mate.

  Don’t have a mate. Don’t need a mate.

  Carly repeated the mantra through the next half hour of feeding horses, then looked up at the bluffs, her favorite place to get away from it all while she was on the ranch. “Let’s go explore the mesa.”

  They came across Stef and little Keith on the way, and soon, they were a merry band of five.

  “Yay! Rock-climbing!” Tana squeaked, pulling her on.

  “Sounds good,” Stef said. “I haven’t been climbing in a while.”

  See? Carly told her wolf. The minute you mate and have kids, it’s all over.

  Her wolf snorted. Didn’t we see Stef zip by on her mountain bike yesterday?

  Okay, okay, so Stef seemed to be living the best of both worlds, with a loving mate, a job she loved, a son she adored, and plenty of adventures to pursue.

  So what are you afraid of? Carly’s wolf cried.

  Afraid? She wasn’t afraid of anything. Except maybe losing her heart.

  “Here’s the spot,” Carly said, hushing the beast within while she looked up from the base of the mesa. Orange-toned rock undulated in waves, serrated by a series of cracks that provided just enough handholds to make things interesting.

  “Carly is an expert rock-climber,” Tana told Stef.

  “So I’ve heard.” Stef winked at her.

  “She even works at a rock-climbing store,” Tana went on.

  Carly stifled a laugh. She worked part-time at an outdoor outfitter’s outlet, but her real job was all the unpaid work she did for her home pack. All the women who didn’t have the nerve to approach the alpha came to her to voice their concerns, and she constantly found herself lobbying for one thing or another on their behalf. More childcare. A better community center. More funding for interpack projects to keep rogues at bay. Of course, all that was hard to explain to Tana, who focused on the rock-climbing part.

  “Have you been recruited to chaperone the field trip yet?” Stef asked as they threw down their backpacks and let the kids drink.

  Carly nodded. Every year the school kids went on a field trip where they piled into a covered wagon and recreated pioneer days.

  “Wouldn’t miss it,” she murmured truthfully. As a kid, she’d always missed the event, just as she had missed out on so many other things by living with her mom.

  “Yay! I can’t wait!” Holly skipped and jumped.

  Carly tousled her niece’s hair. “Me neither. Now, go at that rock. Show me what you can do.”

  “Just bouldering,” Stef told the kids. “Don’t go too high.”

  The kids kept to the lowest level — low enough that they could hop to the ground if they lost their grip. Stef and Carly did, too.

  Well, Carly did for a while. But eventually, she found herself climbing higher. She couldn’t help it. Instinct drew her to cracks and overhangs that provided more challenge. To the kinds of views that made her feel like a soaring eagle and not a mere dweller of the earth. To heights that reminded her of her most epic ascents.

  “You’re a little high, aren’t you?” Stef called from below.

  Carly eyed the forty-foot drop and shrugged. “Eh. It’s not that high.”

  Stef looked around and called in a whisper-shout. “Seriously, what if you fell?”

  Carly sighed. Stef sounded like Tina. Or worse, like the older ranch ladies who scolded her all the time.

  Do you have to go so high?

  Do you have to drive so fast?

  Do you have a death wish or what?

  She didn’t have a death wish. She had a lust for life.

  You’ll kill me with worry, her mother would say, clutching her heart.

  You’ll kill yourself someday, Tina had once said, grabbing her arms in a sisterly heart-to-heart. Promise you won’t ever make me go through that. Promise you’ll be careful.

  She was careful. Well, careful enough. What were they all so worried about?

  “The good thing about being a shifter,” she called down with a grunt, “is that we heal fast.”

  “Heal? From a fall from that high?” Stef sounded skeptical.

  “This is nothing,” Carly shot back. Her voice was cavalier, but an out-of-nowhere memory made her wince. She’d taken a bad fall two years ago in the Sierras and, yes, it had hurt. Murderously. But she’d patched up perfectly well, right?

  Her wolf whimpered and stuck its tail between its legs, remembering another close call. That terrifying moment on Half Dome in Yosemite National Park. She’d free-climbed the whole damn thing in a stunt that had the rock-climbing world buzzing. A good thing no one had seen her bobble near the top. She’d slipped and scraped her nails to a bloody mess before two fingers miraculously caught on a tiny ledge. She’d hung there by one hand, looking down at the longest fall of her life, her heart beating in triple time as the seconds ticked past.

  But she’d gotten her shit together and continued to the top. Triumph had chased the fear away, and she’d grinned for weeks afterward. She was practically immune to death, it seemed. She was strong and capable, and even if she bobbled, her body could take any injury, any time, any place.

  Right?

  Can’t we slow down a little? Stop and smell the roses? her wolf begged.

  Carly ignored it, climbing higher until it was just her, the desert breeze, and miles of open space. She climbed on and on, then hauled herself over a ledge and stood panting at the top.

  Her special place. A place where the earth fell away from the sheer cliff she’d just ascended and the desert stretched to a horizon so distant, she couldn’t pinpoint the border between earth and sky. The perfect place to clear her mind. Up here, she could stand tall, independent, and free.

  Alone, her wolf whimpered. Always alone.

  Chapter Nine

  Luke didn’t dream much at night when he dropped onto the old mattress they’d given him. It lay on the floor of a shed that had once served as a turkey coop — one with a five-foot-two ceiling for his six-foot height. But when he did dream, it was always a variation on the same theme — of becoming part of a pack like this one. Being an insider. Being trusted and trusting of others.

  That was the stuff of his dreams.

  That, and Carly. He dreamed of her, and not just at night. He’d see her coming and going around the ranch, and his heart would stop each time. Her step hitched, too, but she always hurried on with whatever odd jobs she was busy with. Even when he didn’t see her, her scent would come wafting over to drive him wild. Like she sent it there, or maybe fate did.

  “Not miserable at all,” he’d murmur, toss and turn, and try to get some sleep.

  But the pull, the drive, the craving for Carly grew more intense every day, until her scent was everywhere, teasing him, another trial for him to endure.

  Want her. Need her. Now, his wolf growled.

  He closed his eyes, sniffed the night, and wondered if he’d ever get to talk to her again. Wondering what he might say if he could.

  Hey, honey. Check me out, turning over my new leaf.

  He punched his lumpy pillow a few times and forced himself back to sleep.

  Days weren’t much better, because his mind was just as preoccupied with her then. Where was Carly? What was she doing? Was she thinking of him?

  “Right this way,” Cody said on the fifth morning. “Got a whole new job for you.”

  He’d finished the cesspool — thank God — and the new task was an easier one, digging an irrigation ditch. Another long workday crept by, and for every minute he spent wondering whether the enemy was moving in on North Ridge, Luke spent two minutes dreaming of Carly.

  “Come on. Focus,” Cody said. “Quit dreaming about Audrey.”

  Carly, Luke’s wolf howled as he swung the pickax at the rock-hard ground.

  Cody grinned. “Just kidding. But it has been quieter around here, what with Audrey so busy at the hair salon. She got a whole influx of new customers, apparently.”

  Luke shrugged. As long as Audrey left him alone, he didn’t care where she was.

  Carly, his wolf whined. Want Carly.

  What he needed was a cold shower to get his mind off her.

  “What you need is a bigger pickax—” Cody started, then stopped and whipped his head toward the far end of the ranch.

  “What is it?” Luke asked when Cody’s eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared.

  Cody held up a hand the way a person did when they didn’t want their telephone conversation interrupted. But there was no telephone, which meant Cody was listening to his mate’s voice in his head. All mates could do that, and packmates, too.

  Yep. Just like I hear Carly sometimes, his wolf whispered.

  Luke banished the beast to the back of his mind and looked at Cody. “Everything okay?”

  Cody nodded, though he didn’t look so sure. “I need to run over to help Heather.”

  Heather, Cody’s mate, was the teacher in the town’s tiny school. Well, if he could call Twin Moon a town. More like a…a…

  Community? The word popped into his mind.

  Right. A community. And he didn’t belong.

  The place had everything. A one-room schoolhouse full of rambunctiously happy kids. A blacksmith whose hammer rang over the still noon air. Green grass around the houses, the clang of goat bells in the fields.

  These wolves had it all. And not just the physical things. They had camaraderie — that sense of pulling together for a common cause. Fighting together, sharing the joy and tears. Something his home pack used to have, a long time ago.

  Home. North Ridge. A place he was supposed to be headed back to. Alone.

  Cody stood and studied him for a long minute, then nodded.

  “Look. This will just take a few minutes. You go get the bigger pickax, then come straight back here to finish the job. And no messing around. You got that?” His voice dropped to a threat.

  Luke blinked. Maybe someone was ready to trust him after all — at least a teeny, tiny bit.

  “Sure. You mean from up in the toolshed?”

  Cody waved vaguely. “I’m not sure. It’s either there or up by the old aqueduct. Check both.”

  Luke leaned on his pickax and wiped the sweat off his brow. “Aqueduct?”

  Cody made a face. “Yeah, an aqueduct without water. Some old-timer had the crazy idea to tap into a natural spring, but it never panned out. It looks more like a mine, but it doesn’t go far. It’s up there. Up the hill and to the right, under the lip of the ridge.” He pointed and gave Luke one more look of warning.

  Luke made a face. “I swear I will not maul anyone in the next ten minutes or stage an overthrow of this pack. I promise I won’t steal, graffiti, or set fire to anything, either. All right?”

  Cody gave him one more steely look, then nodded and left.

  Luke watched him go, then set off up the rise and around a bend. He tilted his chin up, savoring the feeling of freedom — relative freedom, at least.

  We could take off, you know, a dark voice whispered in the back of his mind.

  Yes, he could, but he wouldn’t. Not when he was finally making progress. If he stuck this out another day or two, he might just leave the ranch with a slap on the back instead of a kick in the ass.

  The old aqueduct wasn’t hard to find, as it turned out, because the minute he turned another corner of the rugged terrain, he saw a little girl in a flower-print dress standing right in front of it, peering in.

  It really did look like a mine. Six wooden boards hung at odd angles, closing the tunnel off, but the middle board had fallen on one side, creating an opening.

  “Tana!” the little girl called inside. “You know we’re not allowed.”

  Luke slowed down. What was going on?

  “Hurry up, Tana,” the girl in the flower-print dress said, wringing her hands and stepping from foot to foot.

  That was Cody’s daughter, he knew. But what was she doing?

  “Hiya,” he said as quietly as he could, figuring he’d already scared enough kids on this ranch.

  The little girl whirled, her eyes wide. “Hi.”

  Caught with a hand in the cookie jar, from the looks of it.

  “What’s your name?” he said, coming up beside her and peeking into the shaft.

  “Holly.”

  “Hi, Holly. I’m Luke. Who’s in there?”

  “Um… no one?”

  He grinned. Man, was she a bad liar. “You sure about that?”

  Her chin dropped to her chest. “You promise not to tell?”

  “Promise.”

  “Tana went in. I told her not to.”

  He shifted the board so he could see better, but damn, was it dark in there. “Hello?”

  “Look what I found! Look!” a tiny voice echoed from inside.

  He recognized Tana — Ty Hawthorne’s oldest kid. And, man, it really didn’t seem like a good idea for her to be in there all by herself, so he called in to her.

  “Why don’t you bring it out here?”

  “It’s stuck,” she called, struggling with something.

  The ceiling of the shaft groaned and creaked, making him freeze. Holy shit. The rotten beams were barely holding up the tunnel. It could collapse any minute.