Open Arms (9 page)

Chapter Six

Tammy looked at the clock and started when she saw that it was past midnight. Time had flown since Rob had left four hours earlier.

Her body was still longing for his, and no matter how pissed off Tammy told her body that she was at him, it just would not listen. Her breasts were full and heavy, wanting to be lifted in his large hands; her nipples were stiff peaks, begging for his lips to suck on them. And most stubborn of all was her pussy: it was open and aching for his fingers, his tongue, his cock. Her body was not receptive to reason; it was operating from a place of pure, animal wanting.

And apparently, that was the whole damn problem, at least from Rob’s side. He wanted to fuck her like a gentleman, but she didn’t have any idea what that meant. She wasn’t totally sure it was even possible, and if it was, she didn’t know if she wanted it.

Sure, Tammy wanted moonlight and romance, she wanted to feel loved and secure. But she also wanted wild passion and richter-scale orgasms and hardcore lust. She wanted to fuck and be fucked – and after, she wanted to be held and kissed and told she was beautiful and safe.

What was so wrong with that?

She sighed and shook her head. Maybe she’d go and have a shower, get in to bed. She wasn’t sure how much sleep she was actually going to get, but she had to give it a shot, at least. She got to her feet and started towards the bathroom, looking forward to a long, hot shower.

A noise from outside the front of the cabin stopped her. It wasn’t a loud noise, just a rustle of sound, a soft whisper, but she froze. She felt the hairs on the nape of her neck rise, and her fingertips felt cold.

Slowly, quietly, she crept across the carpeted floor on her socked feet. She peeked out of the large living room window but saw nothing in the darkness. The area around her front porch was lit up pretty well with the lamps placed every eight feet or so, but the night was thick and deep, and she could see nothing outside of the golden circles of light pooling around the lamps.

She looked to the left, to the right, back again. Nothing.

Then there was a sound to the left, from the front porch. She jumped.

Scratching, scraping, shuffling. Silence.

Tammy tiptoed over to the door and put her ear against it, listening intently.

Breathing. Whatever or whoever it was, they were right on the other side of the door. She took a step back.

Staring at the smooth wood of the cabin door, Tammy tried to think straight. OK, she needed to call for help. That much was clear. Her mind jumped to Rob first, but after tonight, there was no way she was calling him ever again. Julie? No. She wasn’t about to call her tiny friend out in to the night to confront a weirdo breathing on her front porch at midnight. Besides, she was going to be up early tomorrow morning to catch a flight to Arizona for an important meeting. Tammy didn’t want to have Julie up all night, frantic and frazzled, all for nothing. Jake? Hmmm. Maybe. But chances were he was with Julie. So, maybe Phil was the best option? Yeah. But she wasn't calling
anyone
until she knew what was sitting on the porch.

OK, nothing for it, then. Tammy screwed up her courage and took a step towards the door. There were tiny windows on each side of the door, long and narrow and with a ‘rippled’ finish, so nobody could see in to the cabin. If anyone tried to look through the windows, they’d just see outlines of shapes, blurs of color, shadows. She decided to just peek through one of the windows to see what was on the porch. Then she’d call Jake. No sense getting everyone up and panicked if it was a slumbering raccoon. Right?

She sank to her knees and crawled forward a bit, trying to stay as low to the ground as possible.
God, I feel fucking ridiculous
. She slowly raised her head up, trying to peer through the window without being seen from the outside. She squinted, trying to make sense of what she saw.

A shape. Something large and gray, sitting on the porch, just a few feet away from the door. It was very still, staring at the door.

Holy crap. Oh, shit. Oh, my God. The wolf. The wolf is right outside my door.
**
Phil’s cell phone buzzed and vibrated and he turned over in bed. He pried his eyes open, stared at the numbers glowing at him in the pitch black: 12:33.
What the hell?

He reached for the phone, knocked it on the floor. Mumbling curses under his breath, he scrambled around in the darkness. He picked up the cell and pressed ‘accept’.

“Hello?”

“Phil! Phil, it’s Tammy. Phil, please, I need your help…”

He sat straight up in bed, wide awake. “Tammy? What’s going on?”

“The wolf – the wolf is on my front porch!”

He paused. “What?”

“It’s just – just sitting there! I don’t know what to do… I’m scared to open the door to try to scare it away, though…”

“No, no. Don’t open the door.”
Why the fuck is it sitting there? What is going on with this damn thing?
“Go in to your bedroom and shut the door, OK? I’m on my way. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“OK.”

They hung up and Phil put on his clothes at warp-speed. He dashed out to his truck and started it up, pumping the gas to warm the engine as quickly as possible. He put the pickup in to gear and shot off towards Open Skies.

The roads were deserted and totally still. Phil drove faster than was safe or prudent, but he knew these roads like the back of his hand and he took the twists and turns smoothly. In less than seven minutes, he was at the ranch. He killed the engine just outside the main building and looked around. Nobody had heard him pull up.

He got out of the truck and reached in to the back for a flashlight. He wished hard for a rifle, but he wasn’t allowed any guns or firearms as one of the conditions of his parole. His hand twitched at the memory of holding a piece in it, warm and solid and comforting, safety and death combined in a single item, one small enough to fit in your pocket. He hadn’t missed holding a gun for a long, long time, but he missed it right now.

He walked to Tammy’s cabin at the far end of the open clearing. His eyes were trained on the front porch, but it was in shadow. If anything or anyone was there, he wouldn’t see until he was much closer. As he got within twenty feet of the cabin, he paused, listening. Nothing, not even the wind. He looked around again. Darkness.

He stepped closer, closer still. The porch was ten feet away, and he could see it now. He held his breath and squinted.

The porch was empty. Large paw prints were clearly visible, and it was obvious that the wolf had been sitting there – there was a large round patch where the snow had been shifted and broken.

With a sigh of relief, Phil stepped on to porch, then turned to look behind him. If the damn thing wasn’t
here
, then when the hell was it? A chill went down Phil’s spine at the thought.

He knocked on the cabin door without turning his back, and waited. He heard scrambling noises inside.

“Phil?”

“It’s me, hon.”

The door swung open and Tammy stood there, her face pale and her eyes very dark. Phil stepped in to the warmth of the cabin, put his arms around her. She held on to him, her slim body very small.

“You OK, Tammy?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think so. It was just so – so weird. Like, scary-weird, you know?”

“Yeah. Well, the wolf was there, no doubt about it.”

She sighed.

“OK, so. I’ll stay here tonight, on the sofa.”

“Really? You’d do that?”

“Damn right I will. You get some sleep, and tomorrow I’ll call Kimana.”

“But she said she saw no need to come back.”

“I know. I know she did. But I’m going to insist.”

A wave of exhaustion crashed over her. “OK.”

He saw the tiredness in her face. “Sleep, Tammy,” he said gently. “I’m here. It’s OK now.”

“Thanks, Phil.” She tried to smile at him. “I’ll get you some blankets and a pillow, OK?”

“That’ll be fine.”

Tammy went in to the bedroom and found the extra bedclothes on the top shelf. She brought them out to Phil. “You’ll be OK out here?”

He was already sitting on the large sofa, relaxed in his jeans and t-shirt. “Sure thing, hon. Don’t you worry about me.”

“OK, I’ll help you make up the sofa…”

He shook his head. “No need. You go on and get some rest. I’ll take care of things out here.”

“You sure?”

“One hundred percent. Goodnight, Tammy.”

“Goodnight. And thanks again.”

“That’s alright. You sleep well, now. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Tammy went to her bedroom and got ready to go to sleep. Before climbing in to bed, she looked out the window, expecting to see the damn beast crouched there, staring at her window. But there was nothing there; just moonlight and darkness that stretched farther than the eye could see, all the way up the mountains, all the way across the prairies.

Tammy shivered. She got in to bed and pulled the comforter up over her head. She closed her eyes and waited for sleep. It took a long time to come.
**
Kimana sat in Tammy’s cabin, drinking decaf coffee and gazing out of the window, watching the sunset. It was just so amazingly beautiful here, up at Open Skies. Maybe one day, when she had some disposable income, she’d be able to spend a weekend in one of these cabins, riding horses and eating steak. But that day wouldn’t be any time soon.

She returned her attention to Tammy and Phil. They were sitting bolt upright on the sofa, the tension clearly etched in to their faces. They looked tired.

Tammy finished talking and Phil took over now, explaining about his frantic drive over here and what he saw on the porch. Kimana listened, nodding occasionally.

When Phil stopped speaking, Kimana sat and thought for a minute. Tammy and Phil were looking at her expectantly, and she wasn’t quite sure what they may want from her.

“OK,” Kimana said gently. “I understand this is a shock, and a bit frightening. What do you want me to help you with?”

Phil and Tammy exchanged glances; they looked embarrassed, Kimana was interested to note.

“Well,” Tammy began. “Well, before we called you, we were talking this morning over coffee and we thought that maybe… ummm… maybe you could tell us some more about what you said the other day. About – about the wolf looking for a connection up here. Watching someone.”

Kimana’s black eyes were calm and still. “You think that person is you?”

“I do now.”

“OK.”

“So, if this is what’s going on, Kimana, what does it mean?” Phil asked.

“And how can it even be happening?” Tammy added. “It’s just so unbelievable that a wild thing will act this way. Isn’t it?”

“Well, it depends who you talk to,” Kimana said. “Most people would agree that it’s crazy and not natural. But the Shoshoni – we think differently about wolves.”

“Who are the Shoshoni?” Tammy asked, baffled.
Are they some kind of freakazoid cult that worships wolves under a full moon?

Kimana smiled. “The Shoshoni are a Native American tribe –
my
tribe.”

“Oh!” Tammy said, flustered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that.”

Kimana waved her hand. “It’s OK. We’re concentrated in Wyoming and Utah, mostly, but we have some communities in Oregon and Idaho. Colorado, too, but farther north. Myself, I’m from Wyoming originally, and I moved to Colorado about ten years ago. As for not having heard of us: I don’t imagine you’d have run in to too many Shoshoni in New York City.”

“I suppose not.”

“Anyway. The Shoshoni have many stories about Wolf. He’s possibly the most important animal in our legend and lore. He’s deeply respected, very admired.”

“Why is that?” Phil said.

“Wolf is one of the creator gods,” Kimana said. “In our mythology, we believe that there was a time when there was no death.”

“For wolves?” Phil said.

“No, no. For
all
animals, and also for people. Shoshoni believe that there was once a time when no living creature died – and we believe that it was because of Wolf. He was able to shoot an arrow under a sick or injured animal or person, and that would cause them to avoid death. And if he shot the arrow under a dead body, the animal or person would rise from the dead. There was no sadness, no tears, no loss.”

“Huh,” Tammy said. “So what happened?”

“Well, Coyote happened,” Kimana said. “He’s the Trickster in Native American legend, and he challenged Wolf’s ability to defy death: for many years, he taunted him and teased him and said that Wolf shouldn’t cheat death. But when Coyote’s own son was bitten by Rattlesnake and Coyote came to Wolf, begging for him to shoot an arrow under his son to save him, Wolf refused.”

“That seems cruel,” Tammy protested. “Letting Coyote’s son die to teach Coyote a lesson. It’s kind of punishing the wrong person, isn’t it? Or – punishing the wrong animal, I guess I should say.”

“It was a lesson. A painful lesson. Wolf let Coyote’s son die, to teach Coyote to be careful what he asked for. For years, Coyote had said that Wolf had no right to cheat death and all the pain and sorrow that comes with it – that
nobody
should cheat any of that. That death is a part of life. Wolf simply asked Coyote to live by his own words… and that meant his son had to die by his words.”

They were all quiet.

“OK, so,” Tammy said. “What does this have to do with the wolf here?”

“I’m not sure,” Kimana said slowly. “Wolf comes to us when we are living in fear about something. Often, he comes when we are trying to hide from a truth.” She gave Tammy a piercing look. “Are you living in fear? Hiding from something?”

Tammy sat, stunned.
My God. How can she possibly know this?

“You are, I see,” Kimana said. “Do you want to tell me?”

Tammy looked at this odd woman, sitting in a beam of sunlight and sipping sweet coffee. Her kindness and openness were almost visible on her calm face, in her steady gaze. She found herself wanting to tell Kimana everything.

“I do,” Tammy said. “I really do.”

“Oh, hon,” Phil started. “Are you sure you want to...”