Ellie's Wolf (25 page)

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Authors: Maddy Barone

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Ellie's Wolf
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Taye rubbed a hand over her shoulder. “You’re going to be okay, Ellie. Tell me everything that happened to you.”

“Right now?”

“For now, just the basics. I’m not wasting any time finding those men and destroying them.”

Ellie told him in quick, harsh sentences of being kidnapped, drugged repeatedly, slapped and kicked, and finally Rye buying her to rescue her. “But they didn’t rape me. Thank God for that, at least. The leader wouldn’t let anyone rape me, and he told me to tell you that. Maybe he thought it would keep him alive.”

“He thought wrong,” Taye said in a deadly voice. “How long ago did you find her?” he asked Rye.

“Less than an hour ago.” Rye waved a hand to the south. “We met in a field about a mile that way. They headed west maybe twenty minutes ago. Shouldn’t be hard to find them. They reeked to high heaven.”

The sound of horse’s hooves coming up the trail at a good pace jerked Ellie’s head around. It was already nearly dark. She couldn’t see who was coming, but it was three people on horseback. New fear clawed its way up her throat. What if it were Half-Nose coming back? Taye didn’t seem worried. He glanced down the road at the three riders and turned away from her to give commands to the wolves to find the outlaws’ trail.

A sudden thought made Ellie gasp. “Taye, what about my son? Is Connor okay?”

“He and Tommy are heading up to the den.” Taye rubbed her shoulder comfortingly. “Everything is okay, Ellie. We’re going to take you home to the den, and you’ll never be in danger again. I promise.”

Yes, everything was okay. Or it would be okay. Eventually. “Taye,” she said, forcing tears back. “Quill.” It was all she could say around the hot ball of misery in her throat.

“I know.” Compassion was warm in his voice. “He loves you. Don’t deny him now. He’s already stronger than he was a day ago.”

Ellie blinked at him. “What?”

“He might not ever be the man he was, but he’s still the man who loves you.” He turned her to face the horsemen now only a few yards away. “Go on, Ellie, give him a chance.”

“What?” she said again, confused.

He gave her a small push toward the horsemen. She stared as they all dismounted, one of them sliding awkwardly to the ground and hanging on to his horse for a moment as if to regain balance. He waved off the other two men and came toward her with a hurried, lurching, shuffling gait. His mouth drooped unnaturally at one corner. He had curly hair.

“Quill?”

Such a violent mix of emotions flooded her that she couldn’t quite speak. It couldn’t be Quill. He was dead. She’d seen how quickly the poison darts worked on Johnny. But the man staggering his way to her wasn’t dead. He was wonderfully, beautifully alive. She ran the last few steps to him, forgetting her injuries in a blaze of joy.

“Quill!” she shrieked. She stopped one foot from him and spoke in a loud, clear voice. “I love you, Quill Wolfe.”

He wrapped his arms around her, and if his hold was less strong than it had been, it was no less warm. “Ellie. Darlin’. Oh, God.” He buried his face in her filthy hair.

Taye clapped his hands. “Quill, I’m taking ten wolves with me and hunting down the woman stealers. You want in on the kill?”

Ellie clutched him. “Don‘t leave me,” she begged.

Quill raised his head from her hair to lock eyes with the Alpha. “Kill them for me. Make them pay.”

The alpha nodded sharply. “They will pay,” he promised.

It was a guttural vow that horrified and delighted Ellie at the same time. “There’s one named Lenny.” She kept her voice quiet and firm. “He hurt me more than any of them.”

Taye’s smile was terrifying. She hoped it terrified Lenny and his friends. “Then he’ll hurt more than any of them.” He looked at Quill. “You take care of your mate. Get her to a doctor. We’ll catch up with you when we’ve finished our business.”

Taye changed and led some of the wolves off. Rye let out a long sigh before looking at Ellie and Quill. “I guess you don’t need us anymore.” He nodded at the wolves on four paws, and the two men still with the horses. “So we’ll be moving along. If I could recoup what I paid to rescue Mrs. Wolfe, I would sure be grateful.”

Quill nodded. “I don’t have any cash on me. But if you come up to the den north of Kearney, I’ll repay you. I’ll double what you paid.”

Rye’s sun-bronzed face split in a wide smile. “I wouldn’t say no to a little extra for our trouble.”

Quill studied him with a thoughtful expression. “You remind me of someone. I thought so back in Ellsworth. It took me a while to see it, but you’re the spitting image of the mayor of Omaha.”

Rye’s face went so carefully blank that Ellie wondered what he was hiding. After a moment he gave his little chuckle. It sounded just a bit forced to Ellie. “Well, they say everyone has a twin somewhere.”

“Yeah.” Quill extended his hand to shake. “Thank you. If you ever need a favor, all you have to do is ask.”

Ellie was almost sad to see Rye and his crew go. She impulsively threw her arms around Rye and squeezed. “Thank you. Bless you.”

Rye froze in the circle of her arms when Quill let out a feral growl. “Uh, sure,” he said, stepping back and mounting his horse quickly.

She turned back to the miracle of a living Quill, but even the joy of the miracle didn’t keep her from giving him a lady-like scold. “Mr. Thomas and his traders were good to me both times I was with them.”

“Then I will be forever grateful to them, but they don’t get to hug you.”

Quill led her with his shuffling gait to the horse. She saw with a watery giggle that her gait matched his. She was so bruised and weary she couldn’t mount the horse. Quill couldn’t help her, but Paint was there, face cracked in a huge grin, to lift both she and Quill to the horse.

“Let’s get you into that town,” he said. “Snow! Ride ahead and get the doctor ready for Miss Ellie.”

Snow nudged his horse closer to give Ellie a quick kiss on her filthy cheek before setting his horse to a gallop toward Littleton. The other big gray wolves trotted along with them right into the tiny town.

Everything happened so quickly then that Ellie felt lost. There wasn’t a doctor in Littleton, but there was an elderly minister named Miller with some medical experience. The wolves in man and wolf form invaded his little house, demanding help for her. Reverend Miller was so horrified by Ellie’s appearance even the invasion of his home by the creatures of legend didn’t seem to bother him. It seemed to Ellie his attention was fixed solely on helping her. Since that was what the wolves wanted, they were on their best behavior. He sent her off with his wife to be bathed while he listened to Paint tell of her ordeal. Quill didn’t want to leave Ellie’s side, but Mrs. Miller shooed him and the other men out of her spare bedroom, filled a large metal tub with blessedly warm water, and helped Ellie wash. It took three lathers to get the goop out of her hair. Mrs. Miller gave Ellie a clean nightgown and brought her a bowl of soup and a glass of water. Ellie thought she was an angel out of heaven.

Reverend Miller came in to examine her and agreed that none of her bones were broken and the bruises would go away on their own. He gave her a jar of medicated ointment to ease the pain of her ribs, but his biggest concern was the dehydration the drug and nausea had caused in her. “Those filthy brutes!” he muttered and had his wife bring in a pitcher of water. “Drink frequently, Mrs. Wolfe,” he told her “I want that pitcher empty before morning.”

Ellie was wearing Mrs. Miller’s borrowed nightgown and tucked up in the guest bed when Quill was finally allowed in to see her. He sat on the edge of the bed and looked at her in the light of the lamps, his face marred by the slackness on one side. His expression was distorted joy overlaid by miserable guilt.

“It’s my fault,” he whispered. “What happened. We should have stayed in camp where you were safe. I should have waited until we were at the den to make love to you. I was so arrogant, so sure that nothing bad could happen because I would hear or smell anyone before they could come close. Too arrogant. I was so wrapped up in making love that a herd of buffalo could have stampeded ten feet away and I wouldn’t have noticed.”

She reached for his hand. “You weren’t the only one who wanted some privacy. You didn’t force me away from camp. And I’m okay.” She sniffed and wiped her eyes and saw him wince at her tears. “I’m crying because I’m so happy. I thought you were dead.” She raised her hands to cup his beloved face. “Quill, I thought you were dead, and it almost broke me.”

“Not dead.” He glanced down, shifting his gaze from her. “Not whole either.”

She tightened her hands on his face. “Are you in pain?”

He shrugged. “Not much. It’s just that my muscles don’t work right. I’m getting better. Two days ago I had to be tied to the saddle to stay on the horse.” His voice lowered. “My wolf won’t come out. I can feel his confusion and fear. Only the thought of you rouses him. But even that isn’t enough for him to make the change.”

“It’s going to be okay, Quill.” That’s what Taye had said, and she believed it.

He still wouldn’t look at her. “I’m not the man you married. If you want to repudiate me I understand.”

“Repudiate you?” It was a shout. Something was trying to scramble up her throat. It could have been shock or anger or amusement or any combination of them. She jerked her hands away from his face to keep from clawing him. “I made wedding vows to you. For better or worse, richer or poorer, in sickness or in health.”

His mouth twisted as he met her gaze. “I should be strong enough to let you go, but I’ll keep you even if all you feel is pity and duty.”

“Duty? I love you, Quill. Maybe you’ll keep getting better. I hope so. But even if you don’t, does that make you someone else?” She reached a trembling finger to trace the corner of his lower lip, where it drooped. “It wasn’t until I thought you were dead that I knew I loved you. Can you imagine my remorse? You were so patient with me, and I refused to accept my own feelings. I thought I’d never hold you again or watch you play with Connor or see your beautiful face. I thought we’d never have more children together. We wouldn’t see our grandchildren. Oh, Quill, it’s not pity or duty I feel. It’s love. I love you.”

Tears filled his eyes and overflowed, leaving paths of gleaming silver on his cheeks in the lamplight. “Ellie, I promise to be the best man I can be, for you. Maybe not as strong as I used to be, or as handsome, but I’ll be the best I can be.”

“Quill, do you know what I discovered in the past few days? It’s not a man’s appearance that makes him ugly. And it’s not how well he walks that makes him handsome. It’s his heart.” She put a hand over his breastbone. “And your heart is beautiful.”

It warmed her to see him wipe his eyes with the same gesture Connor used. “I want to be beautiful for you,” he said, a quiet, fierce vow.

“You are the most beautiful man I know. Come to bed. When I was with those men they kept me drugged most of the time. I spent nearly the whole time sleeping. If you can call it sleeping. I was hurt and scared and so alone. I don’t want to be alone anymore. When I wake up this time, I want you to be here. Please hold me so I’ll know I’m not with them anymore.”

He stood and slowly, with effort, took off his clothes. When he lifted the sheet and blanket and lay beside her, she rolled to press herself against him and lay her cheek on his shoulder. He jerked and lifted the sheet to glare at his penis, which had stiffened to make a small tent in the sheet. Ellie looked too and smiled over his embarrassed expression.

“I’m sorry about that. You don’t need—I know you’re hurt…” he choked out. “Oh, darlin’, I look forward to making love with you again, but I can wait until you’re feeling better.”

She startled herself with a giggle. “It looks like all the important parts of you are still working.” She hesitantly moved her hand under the sheet to stroke the satin-smooth flesh of his erection. “Can you be gentle?”

He quivered under her hand. “You’re bruised. I don’t want to hurt you.”

His body seemed entirely willing. “I am sore,” she admitted. “I want to make love with you, though, to wash all the bad memories away. I want to feel safe. Do you mind?”

“Mind?” His chuckle broke. “I thought I’d never make love with you again. I don’t mind. Ellie, ride me. You can set the pace.”

She struggled up to her knees beside him to look at his body. Still muscular and lean and beautiful. She leaned down, bracing herself on her hands, to kiss him. The nightgown was in the way, so she eased it over her head, careful not to show how the movement hurt her. He knew though. His eyes were fixed darkly on the bruises that bloomed over her body. His hands cupped her breasts almost too gently before one slid down her body to dance lightly between her thighs.

“Can you open for me?” he whispered. She did, and his finger slid inside her. “You’re already wet.”

“You’re already hard,” she returned, squeezing his penis.

She raised herself to straddle him, bringing him to her entry and sitting gradually down on him. The thick length of him penetrated her in a satisfying way. He groaned at the same moment she moaned.

“Am I hurting you?” he said.

“No. Am I hurting you?”

“No. But it would feel even better if you moved. Up and down?” he suggested. “Gently?”

She did, savoring the glide of him in and out of her. Love for him almost made her forget the pain of her bruises. “I love you,” she cried, grinding down.

He surged up meet her. “I need more. Do you mind if I move?”

“Of course not,” she began to say, but he sat up, twisted, and laid her on the bed, without ever leaving her body. She blinked up at him, amazed at his strength and dexterity. “I didn’t think you could do that.”

“Neither did I.” He grinned widely, the slack corner of his mouth moving perfectly, no longer sagging. “I doubt I could have an hour ago. You’re healing me, darlin’.”

“Oh, good. Then kiss me.”

He did, deep and hot, and began moving in and out of her at a smooth, steady pace. “Am I hurting you?”

“No.” Maybe a tiny bit, but pleasure far outstripped pain, and she needed this connection with her husband. Sensation was creeping farther up her legs, languorous and inevitable, with every plunge of his hips. “I need you, Quill. I need you doing this with me. I don’t want to remember how cruel those men were. All I want is you to love me.”

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