Rejected by Fate: A Mated in Silence Novel Page 6

  “Oh, oops, I said the word anyway. How clumsy of me.”

  There wasn’t a clumsy bone in Magda’s body. She knew exactly how to mess with me before. Now she had all new fuel.

  I don’t know what to do.

  “I have a book on that subject if you need it.” She waggled her eyebrows and I slunk lower in my seat. Not the sex talk with Magda. Wasn’t happening.

  I wasn’t that naive. I knew some things about sex. It seemed to be the main subject of gossip among the farm workers, both female and male alike, and they were never quiet about it.

  I shook my head, making her laugh.

  “Have you kissed him yet?” she asked, putting more honey in the last few sips of her tea as though she’d somehow drained the cup of honey but not of the tea.

  Another shake of the head. I wanted to. So badly. When he spoke, most of the time I was looking at his mouth and often didn’t hear what he said. And for me, that was a particularly troublesome corner to be in.

  “Everyone gets what they deserve, Jillian. Bad and good. And you, my dear, are past overdue for your payment in this life. Now, go home. I’ve got things to do.”

  And with that, I was pushed out but not before she placed a kiss on my head. And two scones in my hand.

  Heading home, I was considering whether to eat one of the scones along the way or wait and have one along with Dean when the sound of low male voices sent me scurrying behind a tree. I’d spent so much time alone in these parts, but first Dean arrived, and now there were two unfamiliar men tromping along my path. It was becoming a traffic jam like I’d seen the one time I went to the city with a group of kids to see the wolves in the zoo. Oh, we saw other animals, but it was the amber eyes, shaggy coated wolves who held my attention.

  Even though they had a big enclosure with fake rocks to lie on top of in the sun and all the food and water they’d ever want, seeing them there like that made me want to free them. I knew, even at that young age, what it was like to be where you didn’t belong. When you yearned to be...somewhere else. Like the cubs rolling in the grass there, I didn’t remember where that might be, but I knew where I was...wasn’t where I was born to be.

  I slid a little deeper into the brush as the two men came abreast of me and kept on walking. They were talking low and serious, and I wondered if they were lost, but I didn’t have the courage to just step out on the path and meet them. Not because I thought they would hurt me—my wolf was not growling or on alert at all.

  But strangers...meeting Dean had taken all the bravery I had, and I was so grateful for the fates who sent him my way. To have more friends, more people I could care about come my way was asking too much. As their voices faded with distance, I stepped back on the path and headed home. Maybe I’d give Dean both scones.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jillian

  Overdue for my payment in life? What did that even mean? And telling me everyone gets what they deserve good and bad? Magda had been a mentor of mine since I’d been on my own and happened upon her in the woods one day. The hovel I’d been relegated to a teen far too young to be alone had been barely standing up when I moved in, and Magda had offered both advice and materials to improve it. I knew she’d have helped even more if she hadn’t been so old, but when she offered, I insisted she not do anything that might cause her harm.

  She recommended that I go for structure repairs on the outside but didn’t do anything to make it look so nice, someone might take it away from me. Even though it was a distance from the other homes, another pack member with more status might cover it. Sad but true. What was anything but sad was the fact that my hovel was made of logs. The big kind that hadn’t been found around here in a century or more. I replaced the chinking with a mixture of mud and other findings I thought might be appropriate, making the walls weathertight. The roof was another thing, since some of those logs had fallen in, but I’d managed to make do, so at least the rain and snow stayed outside.

  As a result of my hard work, no one passing by would recognize that the exterior did not reflect the interior. Not that it was fancy, but it was comfortable and cozy and, since Dean moved in, actually felt like a home.

  But her comments this time had my head swimming. I’d never felt like life owed me a thing, just wanted the minimum comforts and, secretly, to belong somewhere. That desire might be encouraging me to make more of my company than I should.

  I found Dean standing by the hearth, staring dubiously into a pot. His profile was so regal, my breath caught in my throat. I let the door close and he faced me, a smile stretching his lips. “You’re home just in time for ummm...dinner.”

  I paced to his side and took a look at what bubbled there.

  “Rabbit stew,” he told me. “But I don’t think it will be as good as yours.”

  I picked up my pad and pencil. No fur in here?

  “Actually, it’s the one you had skinned earlier. I still haven’t managed to shift without you around.”

  Smells great. Actually, it smelled kind of over-spiced but for first effort? Not bad. He’d been really clear that he’d never done much cooking before. Thank you.

  “Don’t thank me until you taste it.”

  Will be good. I thought a second then wrote. Because you made it. I wanted to say his thoughtfulness made it great already, but my writing was still not fabulous, and he’d only managed to shift with me helping. I wasn’t sure he knew that.

  “After dinner, I think we need to get serious about helping each other with our lessons.” He could have been reading my mind.

  I paused from where I was taking bowls and cups from the shelf over the sink. We had a sink...and a water pump, but it hadn’t worked since I’d been here. On my list of wished-for improvements was a functional well. I gave him an enthusiastic nod.

  “Good, now come and risk your life. You’ll need to sign a release first. I can’t have you suing me for all of my riches when you end up with stomach gripes all night.”

  I hesitated, bowls held out in front of me, and one brow arched.

  “Because it’s bad? But I really don’t think it will make you sick or anything.” He wrinkled his nose adorably. “Probably.”

  Actually, it wasn’t bad. A bit spicy. He’d found my stash of ground chili peppers and maybe used a bit too many. His eyes watered as he shoveled it in, and I suppressed a giggle.

  “Water?” He coughed into his elbow, and I waved him off and stood to fill the cups from the bucket. “Thank you.” He gulped his cup then I pushed mine over to him. “Ugh. How can you eat it?”

  I sat down and ate some more, shrugging. I’d eaten a whole lot worse. And most of it was not made with kindness. That made me ready to forgive a whole lot of flaws.

  After dinner, we sat side by side in the glow of the fire, but I lit a lantern, too, wanting to really focus on my lessons. Dean showed me a find.

  “I was over by the compound today looking for Ruston and found this white board lying on the ground...as well as these markers for it.”

  I frowned.

  “I know.” He flashed me a big grin. “Someone probably set it down and walked away for a minute. Technically, we are borrowing it.” His eyes darkened. “But I don’t really care. Ready to learn?”

  I nodded.

  “I thought we’d try writing useful words, things you might want to use to communicate with others, since I believe that will help the most, okay? Then tomorrow we can get back to trying to help me shift.”

  I picked up one of the markers and drew a big, purple happy face. Let’s do it.

  Later that night, as we lay in our beds, I pulled the quilt up to my shoulders and considered everything that happened during the day. For so long, essentially nothing happened. I foraged either for myself or for something someone in the pack, often Magda, needed. I sometimes shifted and ran, did a little hunting. Did other menial labor when it came up. Nothing I’d want to remember as I drifted into dreams.

  That changed when Dean came into my life. I re
viewed the words we’d practiced, tracing them on the underside of my covers so I’d remember. I wanted to show him how much I appreciated his kindness. The meal, the lessons...just the company. One day he’d probably leave. The pack would want him closer, once they realized what an asset he’d be. So I needed to enjoy him while I could.

  My dreams were filled with him. Probably always would be.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Dean

  I’d been chopping wood for Jillian’s home for some time anyway, so when I finally got my assignment for the pack, my hands had gone from blisters to calluses already.

  Ruston had proven elusive. So elusive, I’d never found him. Although the alpha had directed that I be given a job, none of the other betas seemed interested in carrying that out. Pack members received payment for their work both in cash and in access to pack supplies. I had received a few things on arrival, but in order for that to continue, I needed a job.

  So I’d come to the compound every morning and evening, asking for Ruston, until I got that brilliant idea. I’d spent enough time hanging around to notice that Jerad spent far more time leaning against things than doing any work at all. And while giving me a job seemed to be additional hard work for him, perhaps my proposition would catch his attention.

  When I came upon him in the woods one morning, after I’d already made my trek to the compound and was returning to the forest to continue to build a woodpile taller than the house, I saw my opportunity. “Hey, Jerad, how’s it going?”

  He jumped, dropping the axe right next to his foot. “Are you trying to get me to chop my foot off?”

  “No, man. You’re out doing some woodcutting today?”

  He glared at me. “No, I planned to do some axe throwing for the Olympics. What do you want?”

  I shrugged. “Not a thing. I was just checking in to see if there was any work for me, and now I’m heading home to get my axe. I found some dandy downed trees just outside pack lands, and I thought I’d add that to our woodpile at home.”

  His eyes gleamed. “Downed wood, you say?”

  I nodded. “Nice and dry, too. Won’t even need to age...and should be good for chopping. Anyway, I don’t want to keep you. Have a great day.”

  “New wolf!” His sharp bark held more command than I’d ever heard. Maybe he really had a beta in there somewhere under all that lazy. “Get back here. I didn’t dismiss you.”

  I made a U-turn on the path and headed back his way. “Sorry, beta. No disrespect intended. I thought we were through talking. What can I help you with?”

  “How long were you planning to keep that wood to yourself? Don’t you know everything belongs to the pack?”

  I arched one brow in question. “Well, this isn’t strictly pack wood, if it’s not on the pack’s lands, is it? That’s why I didn’t mention it before. Also, I just found it yesterday, and I found nobody to tell in the compound.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest, the axe hanging over his less-than-flat belly. “Well, if I’m the first person in authority you’ve run into, I suppose you did report the find.”

  “I did,” I encouraged. “Of course.”

  “So you still are only doing work for yourself? Not bending your back for the rest of the group?”

  I did not remind him I’d been begging for a job twice a day.

  He continued. “We cannot have that. I hereby assign you to cut up all that wood and haul it back to the compound. To the general woodpile. Let the quartermaster know you are now the woodsman.” He thrust his axe at me. “Use mine for today so you don’t lose any more time goofing around. You can return it when you bring in your haul for the day.”

  Without dismissing me, he turned and started back toward the compound, muttering to himself, “Finally, I’m not the woodsman anymore. That’s never been a job for a beta, not even with the helpers.”

  I didn’t call after him to ask about helpers. For the time being, I’d be grateful to have a job.

  So, every day, instead of going to the compound, I headed out into the woods and provided wood for the pack’s fires. I’d come a long way since I arrived here as a very confused AWOL college student. Someday I’d have to check back into that life because it had been such a sudden break and there were probably friends who wondered where I was. Like Christie. A couple of weeks after I became pack woodsman, I was getting ready to leave the house when Jillian appeared in the doorway holding her whiteboard. She’d written, Can I come with you?

  And since nothing would make me happier, I nodded. “All right. I’m going to finish up that big downfall of trees today, but it means working late. Maybe we could take a couple of sandwiches or something?”

  She waved a basket at me. Always two steps ahead. But walking through the forest with Jillian was a pleasure anytime. Most days, she had her own work to do so this was a treat. We walked along, me babbling as always and her mostly listening. I’d never realized what a chatterbox I was, but once we reached the area where I wanted to deal with the last few logs, I set to work.

  Jillian was working away on her whiteboard, as she often did. Her progress at writing was nothing short of remarkable. Although she couldn’t read aloud, she could write the answers to questions I had that confirmed she understood what she read from the books I’d managed to find and bring back.

  Stretching my back, I decided to take a break and eat something. When I dropped at Jillian’s side, I said, “One sandwich please.” She turned the whiteboard facedown on the ground and reached into the basket.

  “How are you doing?” I picked up the whiteboard and she reached for it, but it was too late. I was staring at a sketch of me chopping into the largest of the logs. And… “This is amazing. Jillian, I had no idea you were such an artist.” Nobody who looked at this would ever wonder who she’d drawn. Just the whiteboard markers she’d brought, purple and green, had created a very true-to-life image. “I think you were a little nice to me though. I’m not this handsome.”

  I was chuckling, but she grabbed the board from my hands, shaking her head hard, and moved to wipe it off.

  “Jillian, it’s so good. What’s wrong?”

  I stopped fighting her because she looked so distraught. On the whiteboard it would end up being erased anyway, but I made a mental note to find her some art materials somehow. She had a talent, and I wanted her to use it. Her sense of self had been assaulted for reasons I did not understand, but I was making it my business to change that. To help this woman become everything she could be. She deserved that and so much more.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jillian

  While Dean said that I was making huge strides in my writing and reading, the workload was a lot. Not only did I have to do my regular work and gather food from the forest at night, but now I had to carve out time to read and write.

  It was enough to give a girl a headache.

  I’d kept myself busy most of the night.

  Plus, I’d hidden the damned whiteboard. You can’t practice if your materials are missing.

  We finished off our dinner and he gushed over my berry cobbler which was a little overcooked, since I hadn’t done much baking in a hearth before but for some reason wanted to make something special.

  Have you kissed him yet?

  Magda’s words reverberated in my head.

  “Want to read now or practice writing?” I shook my head and sat down, pretending to rub my aching feet which weren’t really aching. Dean had the best intentions, but if I had to look at that whiteboard today, I was going to scream. Not really scream but mentally scream and maybe beat my fists on something. That was about as frustrated as I could get.

  “No? Oh, okay. I thought you were enjoying it.”

  I bit down on my bottom lip. Crap. In all my whining, I hadn’t thought that one night off would hurt his feelings. Maybe I could learn and not write that night. The thing was, I couldn’t really tell him because that would require the whiteboard. Getting the whiteboard would give away the fact that
I’d hidden it.

  Yeah, I’d painted myself into a corner.

  Not wanting to disappoint him but also not wanting to write, I walked up to the bookshelf and grabbed the first paperback I saw. A tattered old thing that smelled of musty pages and dust.

  I whirled around and gave it to Dean. “What? You want to read this?”

  Shaking my head and pointing to him, I hoped to the gods he got the point.

  “You want me to read this?”

  Shit. Maybe I needed to get the whiteboard out after all. So I did the only thing I could think of—pointing to the book—then to his mouth—then back to my ears. Come on, dude, get the point. I tapped my foot and nearly broke out in a sweat just thinking about it.

  “Read this book to you? Yeah, I could do that. Come sit by me so you can look at the words while I read.”

  My shoulders slumped with relief. He sat on the sofa, a worn thing that probably should’ve been thrown out long ago, and I cringed. A man like that, someone as kind and warm as him should be sitting on a comfortable couch made of...well, not that fabric. He was out of place, like a diamond in a dumpster.

  He patted the seat next to him and I sat but stayed on the edge of the sofa. This was as near as I’d allowed since that night that I’d discovered that kissing this man had become an obsession.

  And now I didn’t know how to act around him.

  “I’m not going to bite, Jillian. Besides, how are you going to see the words from that far away?”

  It wasn’t him I was afraid of. It was me, and yeah, biting was on the menu when it came to Dean.

  I nodded and scooted closer but still held my breath. He was so near. His deep, woodsy scent infiltrated my senses and, along with the warmth coming from the fire, made me feel more and more at ease with every passing second.

  He cleared his throat as I looked over the page. There were so many words packed onto the tiny pages.

  “It was all he could take not to ravish her right there,” Dean started and then chuckled. “Don’t make that face. You’re the one who picked this book out. Besides, the way it’s making you blush is worth it.”