Secret of the Wolf (57 page)

miscalculated
.

Quentin felt no reluctance to face them, no fear of what he might do once unleashed.

Nor was he inclined to explain to them their master's incapacitated condition. He knew a

more efficient way of gaining their surrender. His anger, and his strength, were under

his complete command
.

He didn't bother to Change. He pushed Harper and Johanna behind him, expecting their

obedience, and stalked his prey with bared teeth and a hard, predatory stare
.

Boroskov's men couldn't have known what he was, but they recognized danger. Like the

mob from the Springs, they shifted and muttered among themselves, brandishing knives

and pistols as if those alone could hinder a werewolf
.

They had no hope of stopping the reborn Quentin Forster
.

The assortment of thugs, footpads, and ruffians kept up their bluff until he was within

spitting distance, and then the first of them broke and ran. One fired his pistol; Quentin

effortlessly dodged the bullet. Another three split off from the group and dashed around

the nearest corner
.

Of those who remained, two might have been quite a challenge for an ordinary man.

Quentin dispatched one of them with a handy facer before the fellow knew what was

coming. The second lunged with a wicked, long-bladed knife, and was rewarded with a

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dislocated shoulder. The pitiful remnants of Boroskov's army thought better of their

erstwhile loyalty and took to their heels
.

May was loosely tied up in a small office inside the warehouse. If she'd had a personal

guard, he'd heard the commotion outside and made himself scarce
.

The girl stared at Quentin in astonishment, struggling against her bonds
.

"You came!" she cried, gamely fighting back tears. "I knew you would. I knew—" She

paused. "Quentin? It is you?”

Quentin snapped the ropes with a flick of his fingers and lifted her into his arms.

Johanna and Harper rushed to his side
.

"It's me, little one." He kissed her forehead and passed her into Johanna's arms. "You're

safe. We're all safe.”

Johanna hugged May and met Quentin's gaze over the girl's head. Her eyes blazed with

pride and affection
.

"Yes," she said. "We are whole again." She set May back and wiped the girl's tears with

her thumb. "And there is more, liebchen. Your mother has come home.”

The first promise of dawn lay upon the eastern horizon when they arrived at Johanna's

hotel. The three they'd left behind were waiting in the lobby: Lewis and Irene in a

matching pair of armchairs by the window, Oscar sprawled and snoring across one of

the hard settees. A jubilant greeting followed, but it was not to be the happiest
.

Johanna went to fetch Mrs. Ingram herself. Quentin never learned what passed

between them, but May's mother came flying down the stairs in her dressing gown, and

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a moment later mother and daughter embraced in a flurry of endearments and joyful

sobs
.

Quentin couldn't steal so much as a second alone with Johanna. But he watched her—

he never tired of doing so—and saw her mingled sadness and pleasure in the family

reunion. His heart swelled with the same mixed emotions. She had much to be proud of,

and much to let go. He swore to make up for every one of her losses
.

"Reckon that's the prettiest sight I ever did see," Harper said, coming to stand beside

him
.

"Yes," Quentin answered. "I reckon it is." But his eyes were only for the sturdy, practical

woman who gravely received Mrs. Ingram's breathless thanks
.

Harper smiled. "You have a lot of catching up to do, brother.”

"And a lot of living," Quentin agreed. "For both of us.”

"In that case," Harper said, "I reckon we'd better get started.”

The gate to the Haven stood open, as if in welcome. On every side the vineyard, woods,

and orchards held steadfast in spite of the travails of men
.

Mrs. Daugherty came out onto the porch, shading her eyes and looking ready to let

loose with a terrific scold
.

Oscar ran ahead of everyone and charged up the stairs, bursting with news for the

housekeeper
.

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Johanna stopped at the gate and let the tears come. Quentin put his arm around her

and nuzzled her hair
.

"Glad to be home?" he asked
.

"No," she said, wondering if this tendency to weep at the drop of a hat was a temporary

affliction. She sincerely hoped so. "I'd much rather be back in San Francisco, battling

monsters.”

He chuckled and kissed her temple. "I wonder.”

Mrs. Ingram cleared her throat and came forward to join them. May clung to her arm, as

she'd done ever since mother and daughter had been reunited in San Francisco. The

girl was radiant, as if her recent experiences had shocked her out of the remnants of the

old troubles. Johanna could not envision her suffering from hysteria ever again—as long

as she was given a chance to grow up well outside her father's pernicious shadow. Mrs.

Ingram intended to do just that
.

May wasn't the only one to benefit from adversity. Lewis Andersen seemed to have

experienced an epiphany during his confrontation with Irene in the vineyard. Although

he remained fastidious and vigilant, he had actually removed his gloves during the ferry

and train ride home. He had been seen to smile, with nary a word of sins or sinners.

Instead, his quotes from the Bible were those of hope and inspiration
.

Though he continued to regard Quentin with nervous suspicion, he didn't seem inclined

to expose Quentin's secret to the world. Gradually he was allowing himself to touch and

be touched—especially with Irene, who was sober and quiet and changed in ways

Johanna expected to find most remarkable
.

What precisely had changed Irene remained to be explored, but Johanna suspected

that she, too, had been forced to see herself clearly for the first time in many years.

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Johanna hoped to make Irene's transition to reality as painless as possible. She and

Lewis might be sufficiently recovered to leave the Haven in a matter of months
.

As for Quentin

She glanced up at him shyly, amazed all over again at the strength of her passion. She

tried very hard not to let him see it. She'd accepted his support on the journey home,

needing it more than she had any other man's, glad enough to let herself be a little

dependent for a few brief hours
.

But she did not deceive herself. The Quentin who stood with her now was not the one

who had left the Haven a mere few days ago. Oh, the alterations were subtle enough:

They lay in his unflinching carriage, the challenge in his eyes, the assurance in his

walk—the way he spoke, as if a real future existed, and the way he gathered everyone

he cared for under the cloak of his protection. He was no longer afraid
.

His past might still haunt him for a time, the memories Fenris had restored to him. He

had become neither perfect nor incapable of guilt and regret. But now he would be able

to deal with that past and accept it, just as he'd accepted Fenris
.

Did he still need her? Was it too much to ask, that he should wish to remain with

someone who reminded him so much of the obstacles he'd overcome?

Quentin had his own life to seek, a family waiting to embrace him, a nonhuman heritage

to explore. She would not keep him from the future he chose
.

But within her heart was a kernel of hope. They had shared so much. If only they could

share the rest of their lives

"It has been a long time," Mrs. Ingram said. "Isn't it strange, how things have come full

circle, and yet that circle has led us to a better place." She smiled at her daughter. "A

wonderful place.”

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"Indeed," Johanna said. "It has been a long two days. Shall we go inside?”

Mrs. Daugherty hurried down the steps, Oscar trailing along beside her like an

overgrown pup. "I was so worried, wonderin' what you was all up to in the city!" She

clucked her tongue. "You all look fit enough, but I hope you never do it again!”

"Believe me," Quentin said, grabbing her work-roughened hand for a kiss, "I hope the

same.”

"Oh, you." She blushed and gave him a mock frown. "Doc Jo, your papa's fine. He

asked for you, and I said you'd be back soon.”

"Thank you," Johanna said. "Thank you, Bridget. I don't know what I would have done

without your loyalty.”

"Go on." She turned back to Quentin. "There's a feller here to see you—been here since

morning. I told him I didn't rightly know when any of you'd be back, but he said he had to

wait." She smiled knowingly. "Said he'd come all the way from New Mexico Territory,

tracking you down for your sister.”

"Rowena?" Quentin said, his face reflecting startled joy
.

"That's the name. He's waitin' in the parlor. Just about eaten us out of house and home,

too. So the rest of you better come on in and get your supper!”

"Yes," Johanna said, stepping aside. "Go in. Mrs. Ingram, please make yourself at

home. I'll join you directly.”

The others dutifully followed Oscar and Mrs. Daugherty up the stairs, leaving Quentin

and Johanna alone
.

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"Rowena," Quentin said. "I can't believe it. Rowena found me here?”

"Your sister? I thought your family was in England.”

"She came to America shortly before I did, for reasons I'll explain when I can. We kept

in touch for a while, but then I—" He bowed his head. "She's probably been sick with

worry.”

"Then you must talk to this man immediately." She pressed his hands. "And I must go to

my father.”

"Yes." He hardly seemed to see her, his thoughts centered on those he had known long

before Johanna. "Yes.”

She went up the stairs ahead of him, her heart bursting with happiness for Quentin and

a sorrow she couldn't acknowledge
.

Her father sat in his wheelchair in the parlor, gazing at the wall with a slight smile on his

face. He blinked and turned his head to look at her as she entered the room
.

"Johanna," he said. "It's good to see you.”

"And you, Papa." She knelt before him and took his hands. "I missed you.”

"That's my Valkyrie," he said vaguely, touching her hair. "How is the new doctor working

out?”

He meant Quentin, of course. He probably hadn't even noticed that so many of the

Haven's residents had been gone. Johanna was grateful for that small favor
.

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"He may not be able to remain, Papa," she said gently, playing along with his

assumptions. "He's been called to see to his own affairs in another part of the country.”

"A pity. I liked him very much. A personable, intelligent young man.”

So much like the old Wilhelm Schell. She rested her head on his knees. "Yes, Papa. I

liked him very much, also.”

"You are sure that you cannot persuade him to remain? Our work is so very important

here.”

Yes, it was. For all her doubts about her own competence, her desire to surrender the

responsibility forever, she knew Papa was right. She couldn't take the easy way and

give up everything she and her father had worked to establish. To do so would betray

what she and Quentin had found, in themselves and each other
.

But she didn't wish to go on alone as she'd done for so long, independent and free of

personal ties. She knew what it was to love. Quentin was the lost half of herself. She

needed him as he'd needed Fenris
.

She had to tell him. Outright, with none of the usual protections against hurt and

disappointment. She must find exactly the right moment, and pray she didn't trip over

her own tongue
.

As for the Haven, she had also given that careful consideration on the trip back to the

Valley. Though Quentin would eventually be cleared of guilt in the matter of Ketchum's

death, suspicion about the Haven's residents would not so easily be dispelled. Now that

May was leaving, Harper was cured, and Irene and Lewis had made such progress, it

would be much less difficult to start again elsewhere, perhaps in another state. Begin