Wolfsbane (9 page)

Read Wolfsbane Online

Authors: Ronie Kendig

“Shut up, Leif.” Willow glared at her little brother. “Sorry. Canyon’s not here to keep him in line, so his mouth is running away with him.”

“Hey, Canyon isn’t my keeper.”

A hoot sounded from the guy with the baby—Mark. “Hey, Brooke, make sure we remember to tell Canyon that when he gets here. What about Stone? Is he—?”

“Right here.” A broad-shouldered man, slightly gray at the temples, stepped into the living room with a woman and two children. He offered his hand to her father. “Senator, Stone Metcalfe, and this is my wife, Marie. Nice to meet you. I’ve followed your career closely.”

Dani’s stomach tumbled at the way Stone Metcalfe said that. As if a face-off was coming. But instead, he and her father launched into a discussion about the recent vote and the direction of the economy.

“Would you like something to drink?” The question whispered against her ear snaked up her neck and made Dani jump. “I’m sorry.” Range’s face reddened. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Can I get you anything?”

Grateful for the diversion from the people and introductions, she nodded. “Please. Some … uh … water. Do you have water?”

He grinned. “Right this way.” As they moved from the den to the kitchen, Range motioned to a stool at the granite counter. “Have a seat. I’ll get you taken care of.”

A floral perfume swept around them just seconds before Willow eased onto the stool next to her. “This is going to get overwhelming, I promise. Range, get me an Eight Inch, please.”

“Sure.” He lifted two mugs from the cupboard and began filling them.

“There are six of us,” Willow explained, “and even I get stressed when we’re all under the same roof.”

Whoa. Six. Dani essentially grew up an only child since Alexandra was so much older than her. “So, you don’t all live here?”

Willow’s strong cheekbones glowed under the warm lighting, highlighting her pale blue eyes. “Heavens no. Well, Range, Leif, and I
do, but the whole family comes together for Sunday dinner and anything remotely close to a holiday. It’s a Metcalfe family thing. Oh, and wait till you meet Mom. Everything comes together when she’s around.”

“My father said she had surgery. Is she okay?” Dani asked, grateful for the natural, easy way Willow acted. And for not bringing up who Dani was or why she was here. She tugged the lightweight sweater over her shoulders and clutched the top of it closed.

Wrinkling her nose, Willow sighed. “Healing, but it’ll take a while. They completely reconstructed her back after a bad car accident. She’ll be in a brace for the next six months as her spine and back heal.”

“Bet she doesn’t wear it tonight.” Range set a glass of ice water in front of Dani, along with a mug. “Give this a try, it might chase that chill away.”

“No way would she let anyone see her in it.” Willow giggled. “If there’s one thing Metcalfes do right, it’s pride.”

“Pride and parties.”

“Well, tonight we have the help of caterers.”

Dani didn’t miss the way Range’s sister rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry about that. My stepmother has this twisted sense of helping—she thinks sending all this stuff, the caterers, is helping. Most of the time, it doesn’t. It just makes people feel … weird.”

Willow sipped her drink. “No worries. Brooke can keep her busy. And I see Stone has already captured your father’s attention.”

The sprigs of mint on her drink wafted up with a light menthol scent.

“Hey, boy scout,” Willow taunted her brother. “Why don’t you tell Mom everyone’s here.”

“But Canyon—”

“Hates parties. He’ll be late.” She grinned. “Mom will put you
out
on the range if you leave her back there too long.”

“Ha, ha. Fine.” He glanced at Dani. “I’ll be right back.”

A gust of wind blew in from the back door. “Sir, we are ready.” A man in a white serving coat, black slacks, and bow tie waited with his white-gloved hands folded.

“Shall we?” Her father motioned to the tents. “Fine food, great people, and a perfect evening!”

Dani sipped her drink, wishing her father would take a backseat. Let this family run their own home and party. But no, he had to be the center of attention, the one with the power.

“So, you are a demolitions expert?” Willow asked as she directed
Dani out onto the back porch, then down a pebble path to the massive tents.

Dani nodded, nerves churning.

Willow smiled. “I’m in the Peace Corps.” The beautiful blond eased into a chair toward the back of the tent. “I joined right after I graduated from college, all idealistic and everything. Thought I could reform the world.”

Dani tugged back a seat next to her and settled in with her warm mug. “I joined the Corps of Engineers because I thought it’d make my father mad.”

Willow laughed. “Did it?”

“Mad didn’t come close.” Dani smiled, remembering how her father all but threatened to disinherit her. “I think my sister saved me.” Indeed Alexandra convinced their father to overlook her rebellious streak.

Amazed at the easy conversation between her and Willow, Dani told herself it was okay to relax—at least a little. She honestly felt okay here, didn’t feel the need to erect barriers or hide behind rehearsed answers and platitudes.

A while later, Range’s lanky form escorted a graceful woman garbed in a burgundy pantsuit. “Senator Roark, I’d like to introduce my mother, Moira Mulroney Metcalfe.”

Her father stood and bowed. “Mrs. Metcalfe, it’s an honor to meet you.”

“Thank you, but the honor is mine. We are so glad you could join us.” She waved him down. The woman was elegant and absolutely beautiful—Willow’s mirror image. And Range had been right—she stood straight and tall, sans the back brace. Proud. Just like they’d predicted. The Metcalfes definitely did pride well. Instantly, Dani loved Mrs. Metcalfe.

Her father waited as Mrs. Metcalfe took her seat across from him, then pointed to a chair and spoke to Range. “Son, have a seat. Tonight, we honor your bravery in saving my daughter.”

Heat slapped into Dani’s cheeks.

“Oh, you’re the lady Uncle Range rescued?” A blue-eyed angel of a girl peered up at Dani from across the table, mashed potatoes poised on her fork.

Silence dropped on the gathering like a wet blanket.

The attention it elicited unsettled Dani more than the question itself. She let a smile slip into her lips and opened her mouth to answer.

“Kaleigh!” Brooke admonished from down the table.

“No, it’s okay,” Dani said, remembering how many times Alexandra or her father had reprimanded her as a child for simple, innocent curiosities. She smiled at the little girl. “Yes, he saved me that day.”

“I didn’t save her.” Range’s terse voice broke in. “I lifted her to the Coast Guard chopper. The Middletons pulled her from the ocean. That’s who deserves the honor.”

Appreciating his humility, Dani offered him a small smile. And tensed at the sudden light in his eyes.

“Nonsense, son.” Her father leapt into the conversation. “What you did—saving Danielle—means a lot to me.”

Movement behind Range snagged Dani’s attention. A shadow shifted, then solidified as a man ducked through the opening. Her heart hitched. The man from the courtroom! The one whose mesmerizing eyes had infused her with strength she didn’t have during the trial.

“Canyon, ‘bout time you showed up,” Mark shouted. “You should’ve heard Leif earlier.”

“Traitor!” Leif thumped his brother-in-law on the back of the head.

Again, her father introduced himself and Abigail before Canyon started around the table.

Laughter warmed the party, but Dani couldn’t shake the heat flaring up her neck as she watched the man they called Canyon. Sharp in a blue shirt and black slacks, he gave his brother-in-law a cockeyed grin and gripped his shoulder in a friendly greeting. “What’s with the tent? You remodeling again, Mom?” He inched down the row of seats, touching his mother’s shoulder as he bent toward her and planted a kiss on her face.

“That’s right; you’d better greet your mother.” Moira Metcalfe patted her son’s cheek. “Find a seat. Enjoy the evening.”

The warmth in this family seared her heart. If her mother had lived, would this be what she had instead of a stepmother only a few years older than herself, celebrations replete with all-too-expensive gifts, loneliness to tuck her in at night?

Willow set a biscuit on an empty plate. “Canyon, have a sit. I already started your plate.”

He wove through the chairs and tables and greeted his sister in the same way he had his mother. “What’d you put on there? Sprouts and alfalfa?”

“If you don’t behave, I’ll make sure that’s all you get.”

His deep laugh rumbled through the night—and straight into Dani’s soul. As he scooted in and looked around, his gaze stumbled into
hers. He stilled, his smile slipping.

Dani’s pulse hiccuped. She wanted to look away. Even told herself to. But if she did, she might never find a moment like this again.

Weird knots rolled through his stomach as he stared into the caramel eyes that had haunted him since that day in court. Now three weeks later, she sat in his family’s backyard, beneath this absurd tent, with an ethereal glow—compliments of the candelabra and its soft light. Her gaze darted away but came back just as quick, as if some supernatural connection existed between them.

Yeah, she felt it, too.

“Have you two met?” Elbows propped on the table and fingers threaded, Willow glanced between them, her curiosity screaming.

“I—” Canyon ripped his gaze from Roark’s. “No.” Not technically.

Embarrassed at the way he’d lost focus, he scoured the table for his mother’s sweet potato casserole but saw nothing but porcelain containers with things too fancy to recognize. The expense alone could feed an entire Third World country. He reached for a bowl of something green. Hoped it was edible.

“Really?” Disbelief thickened Willow’s words. “Well, why don’t I introduce you two? Canyon, this is Senator Roark’s beautiful daughter, Danielle. The woman our dear, waterlogged brother rescued from the Gulf. Danielle, this is my ruggedly handsome brother, Canyon, who can’t seem to keep his eyes off you.”

Willow had a mouth bigger than a C-130—and he was about to drive a nuke straight into it. He glanced at Roark, noticing the way she hung her head. Her cheeks pinked.

“We … uh, met.” Roark tried to be brave against his sister’s directness. “At my hearing.”

“Her hearing?” Willow arched an eyebrow. “What were
you
doing there?”

“Consulting.” They certainly didn’t need to rehash what had happened. “You’d think you would’ve cultivated some manners at that prep school of yours.”

Besides, hadn’t Range laid some claim to Roark, warned Canyon to back off? Curiosity made him check his little brother—and sure enough, Range glowered. Temptation to egg his brother on vied for Canyon’s submission. And won. He flashed his most charming smile. “Nice to meet you officially, Miss Roark.”

She smiled—a tentative, awkward one that wavered.

Whoa, that’d gotten way more reaction than he expected. Wasn’t she smitten with his brother? Dark hair curled over her shoulders and swung into her long, graceful neck. Nice, prominent cheekbones had filled out since he’d seen her last. The bruise was gone as far as he could tell in the low lighting.

Willow nudged him. “See? Can’t keep your eyes off her.”

“Pass the potatoes,” he said, giving her his fiercest warning look. “What is all this stuff? Where’s the ham and beans?”

“Catered by Mrs. Roark.”

Canyon’s gaze shot to Roark’s.

“Not me—my stepmother.” Regret streaked through her tawny features. “I–I’m sorry. She didn’t want your mom to have to worry about cooking. And well, Abigail tends to go overboard.” She chewed the inside of her lip, her gaze again drawn down.

Everything in her demeanor screamed victim. He’d seen it on others, but on her—he hated it. She didn’t wear it well. He’d seen more fire and brimstone in her gaze at the hearing. Where was that woman?

“So, Danielle,” Willow said, clearly exercising every ounce of social skill she contained to draw the woman out of her shell. “How did you ever get into demolitions?”

Her fork played hopscotch with her food but never quite made it home. “I love science.” What was she hiding behind that tight, controlled answer?

“That is so cool.” Willow folded her arms and leaned on the table. “So, you really blow things up?”

Canyon stabbed a red potato and slid it into his mouth.

This time, a real smile spread through the woman’s pink, full lips, even tugging out a laugh. The sound eased at least one of the knots in Canyon’s shoulders.

“No way.” Leif’s teenage voice cracked. “Blow up, as in C4 and detonators?”

“No kidding, Sherlock.” Willow tossed a roll at him. “What’d you think? Bubble gum and balloons?”

Canyon eyed Roark, whose laugh drifted through the cool night and encircled his mind. This was better. Maybe another hour or two with the insane Metcalfe zoo would have her loosened up and relaxed. What would she be like then?

Suddenly her gaze hit his—and bounced off, taking with it her smile. She set her napkin on her lap and excused herself. He watched
her walk up the steps onto the deck and disappear into the house.

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