According to Legend (4 page)

“We will visit Weekatay and your memory will begin to return.”

“Who is Weekatay? How can you know she can help?”

“Weekatay is wise in many ways,” he replied and smiled, as if there were more to the story, but he wasn’t going to say.

As we rounded the bend, Half-Breed was standing on a rock that jutted out at the water’s edge. “How did you come to have that . . . dog?” I asked.

“Half-Breed? One of the tribe’s dogs mated with the Spirit of the Wolf, and Half-Breed was born. I saved him from drowning when he was a pup and he has been my guardian ever since. He cares for all that is mine. Sometimes, I think him more wolf than dog as he carries the Spirit of the Wolf in him.”

“Why does the tribe keep dogs?”

“They guard what is ours and warn us of trouble and attack.”

As we approached the shore, Half-Breed barked. He ran back and forth along the bank of the river and his bushy tail wagged with excitement. I was still seated when Running Wolf pushed the canoe onto the riverbank.

I was about to get up when Half-Breed came and laid his large head in my lap. He gazed up at me with his strange eyes and wagged his tail. A slight whine came from deep in his throat. My hand instinctively reached up to rub his ears. Then he lifted his head and stared right into my eyes. I glanced at Running Wolf, who watched with that knowing look on his face.

But I couldn’t look away from the penetrating gaze of the animal.
What was Half-Breed trying to tell me?
Then suddenly his big wet tongue slobbered the side of my face and he turned and padded away. Running Wolf laughed and so did I. He helped me out of the canoe and as he wrapped his arms around me, he leaned down and gently kissed me.

Half-Breed whined and Running Wolf nodded. “Time is short and you must go.” He held me close.

I wanted to memorize the feel of him, the smell of him and the way the heat of him poured from his body and melted into mine.

Half-Breed whined again and nudged Running Wolf’s leg. Running Wolf glanced down at the animal. “Come,” he said to me. “They are about to call you back.”

How could he know this, and why couldn’t he stop it from happening?

He met my gaze. “I will see you tonight, my Princess,” he whispered.

Then the telephone rang and I jumped up in bed with a start.

“Hello?”

“Room 302?” the teenager said while popping her gum. “This is your wake-up call.”

“Oh, yes, thank you,” I answered sleepily. The line went dead in my hand.

“Not much ‘courtesy’ in that courtesy call,” I mumbled and hung up the phone.

Dragging myself out of bed I headed for the shower. It didn’t take me long to get ready. I tucked the dream catcher into my purse for safekeeping and turned to give the room a quick once over before I closed the door behind me.

I stopped at the flower shop in the hotel lobby and picked up a bouquet of yellow roses to bring to Mrs. Warren. It wasn’t until I was halfway to her house that my stomach growled. I realized I was really hungry and that I hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

The drive was an easy one. I popped in a new CD as I drove, enjoying the scenery and listening to the music. I felt relaxed for the first time in days and was really looking forward to spending some time with Mrs. Warren. Since she came to my rescue at the museum, helping me get away from Mr. Harvey, I felt safe with her. I wondered if I could get Mrs. Warren to tell me more about Mr. Harvey. Maybe I could find out more about what was really going on and why she thinks he is such a threat.

I pulled up in front of her house a few minutes before six. The well-kept Victorian had an immaculately manicured lawn with autumn flowers lining the walkway. The edge of a greenhouse was barely visible from around back, which must account for the beautiful flowers that surrounded her property, but it was the extraordinary house I found enchanting.
What else would a museum curator own but an old Victorian? Probably has some historical background, too
.

Mrs. Warren greeted me at the door with a big smile and a grandmotherly hug. The smell of homemade cookies clung to her and filled my senses. I felt like I was coming home. “How was your day, dear?” she asked.

“Well, I got my power back on.”

“Good news. Come on in, make yourself at home. I’ll just be a few minutes in the kitchen to put these beautiful flowers in some water.”

“Can I help you with something?” I asked as I followed along behind the old woman.

“Oh no, sweetie, I have everything under control, but you can come keep me company. Dinner will be ready soon. How about we have a nice cup of tea while we wait?”

“That sounds great.”

As I followed her into the kitchen, I couldn’t help but look around at the furnishings. A mixture of antiques and odd pieces, which blended wonderfully together and gave the very cozy feeling of home. I sighed and as I exhaled, total relaxation came over me. I noticed she had framed some old photos and had hung them along the wall in the hallway. I wondered if the people in those photos were her ancestors.

We entered the kitchen and the delicious smell of roasting chicken filled the air. The kitchen was eclectic and had a wonderful, warm, comforting feeling. She was cooking on an antique flat-top cast-iron stove stocked with wood.

Mrs. Warren placed the flowers on the counter and went to a nearby cabinet.

“Would you mind getting some water into that kettle while I look for a vase to put those lovely flowers in?” she called over her shoulder and then lent her attention back to her search.

I took the kettle off the old-fashioned stove and went to the sink to fill it. Mrs. Warren found a vase and was busy arranging the flowers. “These are such lovely flowers. I especially enjoy the color yellow. Reminds me of autumn. Thank you again. You really didn’t have to go to such a fuss. You have been through so much lately.”

“It was really no trouble at all, Mrs. Warren. I appreciate your being here for me.”

Satisfied with the flower arrangement, she placed the vase in the center of the table and then went about getting the teacups. The table was set with beautiful old china and highly polished silver flatware. It appeared that Mrs. Warren was the one who had gone to all the trouble.

“Have a seat, dear,” she said as the kettle began to whistle. “I’ll get the tea brewed and we can have a nice chat before dinner.”

I sat at the table and turned my chair out so I could watch Mrs. Warren as she hastened about the kitchen. She moved with the grace of a much younger woman. She faced me with the tea tray in hand, and started toward the table.

“Mrs. Warren, let me help you with that,” I said and started to get up.

“Nonsense, I have it all under control. Sit, sit.”

“Um, Mrs. Warren,” I stammered.

“Please, dear, call me Agnes.”

“Okay, um, Agnes,” I said. “You have a beautiful home, filled with such lovely antiques.”

“I suppose one could say it’s a fringe benefit of being an expert in antiquities and the curator of a museum,” she said and then laughed.

We were sipping tea and engaging in small talk. Agnes was telling me that the house had been in her family for hundreds of years and revealing some of its history when there was a knock at the kitchen door.

“Now who could that be calling on me at the dinner hour?” she grumbled in irritation, almost under her breath.

She meandered over to the door and parted the curtains to look out before opening it.

Maybe she, too, is becoming more cautious after the events of the other night
. A sly smile crossed her lips.

“Well, well, well. What a nice surprise this is and such good timing!” she said. “Why, it’s David,” she continued, glancing at me over her shoulder. “You remember I mentioned my nephew, the dog trainer?”

She opened the door and was nearly knocked off her feet as a huge gray and white dog bounded into the room. The dog rushed past her and made his way directly to me. He came and laid his large head in my lap. He looked up at me and wagged his tail. A slight whine came from his throat. My hand instinctively reached up to rub his ears as I looked down to his face to find he had one blue eye and one brown and a patch of black fur in the shape of an arrowhead over his strange eyes.

“Half-Breed,” David scolded. “Where are your manners?”

Looking down at the dog I wondered if I was having déjà vu. The dog raised his head. He was huge. We were eye-to-eye as I sat in the chair and he held my gaze again, just as he had in my dream while I sat in the canoe.
Was this wolf-dog the same Half-Breed?
He had that same knowing stare. I broke eye contact as I tried to hide my astonishment.

David took his jacket off and hugged his aunt. “I’m so sorry,” he said to me. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him. He’s not such good advertisement for my dog training abilities.” He chuckled.

David, ah, David. How am I to describe him?
Of all that was dark and alluring about Running Wolf, was light and appealing about David. He was tall and muscular, with blond hair that was sort of un-kept but in a very attractive way, and when our gazes met, his deep blue eyes seemed to burn into my soul. He had full sensual lips and a brilliant smile that would have melted the
Venus de Milo
.

“Pam Hastings, this is my nephew, David Conner.”

“Pleased to meet you,” he said, extending his hand. He took my hand in a warm, firm handshake. “I really am sorry about Half-Breed. He is much better trained than this and . . . HE KNOWS BETTER!” He emphasized the last part while looking pointedly at the dog.

“Really, it’s okay,” I said. “He’s fascinating.”

“Actually, I’m a breeder and specialize in this particular type of dog. He’s half-wolf, thus the name, Half-Breed.” He smiled. He seemed proud of his own cleverness. I couldn’t take my eyes off his handsome face.

“David,” Mrs. Warren started. Honestly, I was so taken with David that I had totally forgotten she was in the room. “Pam has recently had an attempted burglary at her home. Do you think that you would be willing to give up one of your dogs for her protection?”

“Oh really, Mrs. Warren, that’s not necessary,” I said.

“She can have Half-Breed here,” David said quickly.

“Oh,” I stammered, “that would be too much to ask. I couldn’t.”

“No, really, he’s a great dog and despite his ill-mannered introduction, he’s usually very well behaved.”

I really didn’t want a dog but could this
be
Half-Breed? The same Half-Breed from my dream life. How could I not take him? What if he had been mysteriously sent to me by Running Wolf?
My mind raced. I wished I could pick up the phone and give Running Wolf a call to ask him.
What am I thinking? This is crazy!
Then I realized that all eyes, even Half-Breed’s, were fixed on me waiting for my answer.

“Well, I guess I could take him, just for a while, temporarily, I mean,” I finally said.

“Then it’s all settled,” Agnes said.

Half-Breed stuck his cold wet nose into my hand and as I patted his head, he licked my fingers. David smiled. “I think he really likes that idea.” I thought I heard him mumble under his breath, “Then again, who wouldn’t?”

“David, we were just about to sit down to dinner. Why don’t you and Half-Breed join us?” Mrs. Warren asked.

“Thank you, Auntie. That would be great.”

We all sat around the table in the warmth of the cozy kitchen enjoying friendly conversation as we ate. It was wonderful, as if I were sitting with family. The food was delicious and I felt as if I had known David my entire life. He talked about his work breeding and training these special dogs and regaled us with funny stories. We seemed to be naturally drawn to each other as we spoke and laughed together. The evening flew by and before I knew it the old clock in the hallway chimed ten. Throughout the entire evening Half-Breed never left my side.

“I better get going,” David said. “I have an early day tomorrow.” He stood up and grabbed his jacket off the coat hook. “Thanks, Auntie, for the delicious meal.” He leaned to give her a hug and warm peck on the cheek, then turned to me. “And the wonderful company.” There was that dazzling smile. “I can bring Half-Breed around to you tomorrow together with some of his things,” he said. “Or better yet, why don’t you drop by the kennel and I can show you around? We can go over to the park and I can give you a few pointers on working with him. I know he’s big, but with a little instruction I’m sure you can handle him.”

“That would be great. What time would you like me to come by?” I asked.

“How about around eleven? Would that be all right?”

“That would be wonderful,” I said and a smile slipped over my lips.

“Great! I look forward to seeing you then.”

Although David had his jacket on and was standing with his hand on the doorknob, Half-Breed didn’t leave my side. “Half-Breed, you about ready to go, Bud?” David addressed the dog, who looked from David to me then tilted his head to the side.

“It’s okay, Half-Breed,” I said to him. “You go with David and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Was it my imagination or did the wolf nod?
I patted his head, then he licked my hand, stood, and trotted over to David.

“This is wild. I’ve never seen him take to anyone this way and so fast,” David said. “But I have to admit he has great taste in women.”

The heat of a blush rose to my cheeks as I stood and walked over toward the door. “It was a pleasure to meet you,” I said to David, then shook his hand. I glanced down and saw Half-Breed sitting there with his paw raised. Reaching down I took his huge paw in my hand and shook it. “And a pleasure to meet you, too, Half-Breed.” I giggled. Much to my surprise, the wolf gave me a soft little
Woof
in reply.

“Wow! He really does like you,” David reiterated. “Guess we’ll see you tomorrow at eleven.” With that, dog and master both left.

“That was splendid,” Mrs. Warren commented, clasping her hands together. “It couldn’t have worked out better if I had planned it.”

Didn’t you?
Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Running Wolf had sent Half-Breed to protect me. Maybe I would ask him later tonight when I met him in my dreams. A warm, dreamy smile slid over my lips at the thought of that. The smile wasn’t lost on Mrs. Warren. “Ah, you like the dog or is it David that has you smiling?” She chuckled and the sting of my blush deepened.

I helped her with the clean up and when I got back to the hotel it was almost midnight.
I bet Running Wolf is wondering where the heck I am.
My room was just as I had left it. I guess Mr. Harvey’s goons didn’t know where I was staying or maybe they wouldn’t brave an attack at the hotel. Either way, I was thankful for the reprieve. I took the catcher out of my purse and placed it on the bedside table, changed into my PJ’s and snuggled down into the oversized, comfy bed. After turning off the lamp on the night table, I picked up the dream catcher and, holding it in my hand, placed the artifact directly over my heart. I longed to be in the arms of my Indian Warrior. The catcher began to hum softly as I closed my eyes and drifted off.