And as the snow fell down around them, Link told her everything. He told her of the McCall curse and how he’d betrayed his pack and gone rogue. He admitted to hunting a woman he was now friends with, but changed his mind and protected her from his murderous family instead. He told her of how the McCalls considered him a traitor and how he was slowly losing his mind. Link hugged her close to his side when he talked about the Silver brothers and their mates and how much he cared about them. Kill orders, claiming marks, shame, losing his brothers, hating and loving them, madness polluting his family tree, fox and bear shifters, little girl babies who couldn’t survive their wolves, a cure that didn’t work on him. Entwined in his heart-wrenching story was such a sense of acute loneliness, it nearly doubled her over.
Nicole understood feeling alone. She had always been an outsider, too. Through his admissions, she could really see him. The man and the animal, and even though her head was worried about his snarly side, her heart didn’t care. He made her feel beautiful, excited, fluttery, and even taken care of. Yeah, she was an independent woman, but Link was a caregiver and she loved that he cared for her in his own, wolfish way. He was a man embroiled in a battle for his sanity, but he was still upright, and still taking the time to hunt for her. The dead bunnies and fish that had seemed so unsavory before felt like an incredible gift now. Here he was, bucking his lineage in an effort to go out a decent man, and she admired him indescribably much for that.
“You’re very strong, Link.”
“I’m not.”
“You haven’t given up yet, have you?”
He didn’t answer, only wiped snow off her thick snow pants, then leaned back on his locked elbows. “I want to show you my den, and then I want to feed you.”
She giggled and denied him. “I don’t have a craving for bunny sandwiches or fish scale casserole at the moment.”
With a playful growl, he lifted her off the end of the truck and strode with her bent over his shoulder like a sack of flour. “I’m making you steak tonight.”
“Cooked?”
“I don’t eat raw meat, Nicole.”
“Just making sure.”
There was a pile of freshly cut lumber on the front porch, along with a saw and toolbox, but inside, no such clutter existed.
Link hovered in the open doorway, bright eyes on her as she scanned his home…er, den. It was so different than she’d imagined a bachelor pad to be. It was clean, and the floorboards were gleaming and swept. Shiny white dishes sat in a drying rack near the sink, and a fire crackled in the wood burning stove in the corner. It was warm in here, so she removed her jacket and scarf slowly and hung them on a coat rack near the door. The living room opened to the kitchen, and to the right, the master bedroom was only separated from the rest of the living area by a step up, where a queen-size bed with a thick blue comforter sat in front of a big picture window. She approached it slowly, in awe of the beautiful scenery outside.
“I like big windows,” he murmured, closing the door behind him.
It made sense that Link would need to see his woods at all times. He was a part of them.
“Your house is that way,” he said, stepping up into the bedroom and pointing out the window. “Two miles separate us.”
“Two miles,” she said on a breath. It had felt like so much farther when she’d been following Hardware Jack’s map. “That’s not a great distance to cover as a wolf?”
Link shook his head, but his silver eyes never left hers. “It’s nothing. I like to make sure you’re okay.”
“Do you go over there even when you don’t bring food?”
“Would it bother you if I did?”
She frowned out the window. It should, but it didn’t. Link was checking on her—making sure she was safe. “No.”
“I like to know what predators move through your area, and if anyone is messing with your land. I found a trap a few days ago, so I pulled it out and talked to the owner of a trap line that had gotten too close. He doesn’t come near you anymore.”
“Have you been inside Buck’s house?”
“No. It was locked until you bought it, and I don’t break in. I fixed what I could on the outside.”
“As an apology for your brother killing him?”
Link nodded once and looked ill in the second before he dragged his attention to the window again. “A man’s cabin is a part of him. Out here, it’s more than a home. It’s survival, warmth, and shelter. It’s family, a lover, something to care for. Something to talk to. It didn’t feel right letting Buck’s cabin suffer after he passed. I wanted his ghost to rest easy.”
Chills blasted up her arms, and she rubbed them to warm up. She didn’t give much thought to ghosts, but each word Link had spoken was punched with confidence, as if phantoms were a fact of life out here.
“Do you see ghosts?”
Link placed his hands behind his back and inhaled deeply. “My entire lineage has died early, and in violence.” He smiled sadly down at her. “All McCalls are haunted. How do you like your steak cooked?”
He turned, but she wrapped her hands around his waist from behind and stopped his escape. “You feel like mine, too.”
Link went rigid in her arms, then slowly relaxed, slid his hand over hers, and squeezed it gently. A soft growl rattled as he turned and faced her, so Nicole slid her hands up his taut stomach and rested her palms on his chest, right over the vibration. The noise tapered off to nothing, and she smiled up at his stunned expression.