Tarah didn’t speak for long moments, but when she did, it wasn’t about his mother. “Do you know my Evangeline?”
Glad for the change of subject, he said, “Sure.” He had an impression of long black hair, deep gray eyes, and the slender body of a ballerina. “She used to play with Bren when they were young.” The two girls had drifted apart as their interests diverged, but they still went to the occasional movie together when Evie was in the den. “She’s away at college at the moment, isn’t she?”
“Yes, but she’ll be visiting in a couple of weeks.” Squeezing his arm, she looked up. “Evie was a fragile child—spent weeks at a time in the hospital. She didn’t really come into her own until she was about thirteen.”
Knowing Indy as he did, Andrew immediately saw what Tarah was trying to tell him. Indigo, with her strength and her will, would’ve tried to take as much of the burden off her parents’ shoulders as she could—but Tarah’s expression said it was more than that. “Was Evie ever in danger of dying?”
“More than once.” Solemn words. “And my Indigo, she loves her sister. It tore her apart each time Evangeline was taken to the hospital.”
Out of that fire had been forged the steel of Indigo’s nature. She loved her sister, her family, but she wouldn’t easily allow anyone else close enough to create that depth of vulnerability in her heart. “Thank you, Tarah.” Because he and Indy, it wasn’t only about sex. They’d been locked together by the bonds of friendship long before he’d dared reach for her heart. And maybe, just maybe, she was running scared because somewhere deep within, she understood that he’d never be a lover who’d allow her to keep a safe emotional distance.
Tarah brushed a leaf that had fallen onto his arm with the absentminded touch of a mother. “I think you need to meet another member of our family, too.”
He caught something hidden in that statement. “Who?”
“No,” Tarah said after a thoughtful pause, releasing his arm. “Pass the first hurdle, then we’ll talk about the second.”
He wanted to pursue the oblique hint, but Tarah’s tone made it clear she wouldn’t be pushed. However, reaching up, she cupped his cheeks and, when he bent his head, brushed his hair off his face with a maternal hand. “You’ll do, Andrew.” A finger tapping on his nose. “Just don’t drive my girl too crazy.”
Andrew grinned, suddenly lighthearted. Indigo was very close to her mother; Tarah could’ve put a serious spanner in the works. Instead, she was looking at him with exasperated affection. “You know me too well, Tarah.”
“Scamp.” Shaking her head, she commandeered him to play with the pups.
Delighted with the whole world at that moment, with hope a blinding brilliance inside of him, he obeyed without protest.
Indigo couldn’t believe she was considering Drew’s invitation. Staring at the piece of paper she’d retrieved minutes after she’d crushed it and that had been taunting her since, she shoved it into her pants pocket for the umpteenth time. “Again,” she said to the small group of novice soldiers she was putting through their paces in one of the less utilized gyms in the den.
They groaned but restarted the circuit. She watched, making note of weaknesses, strengths, things that needed to be corrected. Unfortunately, that still left her plenty of time to think about a certain wolf who was turning out to be mule stubborn beneath his playful exterior.
“Good group.” Riaz’s deep voice came from behind her.
She’d caught the dark woodsy scent of him, so she didn’t startle. “Yes, they are—our best.” At least one future lieutenant, most likely two.
“Is that Sienna Lauren?”
“Yep.” The girl might be spending a lot of time with the DarkRiver leopards, but she was a SnowDancer soldier—and she never failed to put in the required hours in training, further honing the skills Indigo had all but beaten into her.
At the time they began, Sienna had been a belligerent seventeen-year-old determined to rely only on her psychic abilities. It had taken Indigo almost six months to break through that prickly exterior . . . and glimpse the ravaging fear within. Sienna Lauren was more afraid of her own power than she was of any real or imaginary monster.
“She’s very, very good.” Riaz walked to stand beside her, his arms loosely folded as he watched the group complete one section of the circuit and move on to the next. “I might have a go at the course myself—haven’t had the chance to do this kind of thing for a while.”
“This’ll be too easy for you,” she said, fully confident that he would’ve continued to further develop his skills during his absence from the den. “You should run the outdoor one.”
A stirring of interest. “Is it the same as when I left?”