The Keeping (5 page)

As she walked back
to the Grey Goose, she began to plan her strategy. First she’d call
Mr. Aldrich with an update. Then, she’d leave for home early the
next morning. It would probably take her about a week to research
Stump River, Ontario and look for any record of Ryne Taylor in
Canada. Her previous search had focused on the United States since
she’d never imagined the man would actually leave the country. It
seemed sort of drastic. What possible reason could he have for
heading so far north? Was he hiding something or was he hiding from
someone?

Mel felt a little
burst of excitement inside of her. Thus far, this assignment had
only been appealing because of its monetary rewards. Researching an
artist just hadn’t seemed that interesting. But now that an actual
mystery might be involved, it was much more exciting. She wondered
what Taylor might look like. If the fates were with her, he’d turn
out to be attractive, like Elise’s husband. She snorted derisively.
Dream on, girl. Guys like that didn’t grow on trees. Knowing her
luck, this photographer would be seventy years old, balding, and
pot-bellied.

Chapter 3

Two Weeks
Later, in Stump River...

Ryne sat quietly,
nursing his drink in the local pub called The Broken Antler. Its
name came from the old and weathered set of moose antlers that
dangled precariously over the entrance on a rusty chain. At one
time, there’d been an actual moose head adorning the front of the
building and the pub had naturally acquired the name 'The Moose
Head.' But when decay finally set in, and the trophy tumbled to the
ground during an exceptionally windy storm, only the antlers
remained in one piece. Armand St. John, the owner of the dubious
establishment, was an eminently practical man and salvaged the
almost intact, yellowing rack, hanging it over the door and
renaming the pub to suit.

A dry chuckle
escaped Ryne’s lips as he watched Armand working behind the bar,
simultaneously serving beer, laughing at a customer’s off-coloured
jokes and keeping a watchful eye over the activity on the floor.
The bartender’s name really didn’t suit him at all. Armand St. John
sounded like some effete interior designer and the bartender was
anything but. Closer to seven foot than six, his body structure was
like that of a bear and his appearance was not far off either;
curly black hair peeked out of the collar of his shirt and covered
the top of his head and the lower half of his face, his
acquaintance with a barber or scissors obviously but a distant
memory. A genial sort, he ruled the pub with an iron fist, acting
as bouncer when the locals got too rowdy and providing a listening
and sympathetic ear when needed.

The establishment,
like its owner, was rough around the edges but basically a decent
place. It was clean but not fancy, the wooden floors scarred from
years of use and the walls decorated with plaques, a few dartboards
and some questionable artwork ranging from movie posters, dogs
playing poker, to a few poorly done oil paintings that some
whispered had been painted by Armand himself, though no one dared
to ask.

It was Friday
night and the usual crowd had swelled due to the hockey game
playing on the big screen TV that Armand had proudly installed a
few months earlier. The favourite team was in danger of being out
of the running for the playoffs and everyone had gathered to lend
moral support. By some miracle, they were up three points and
shouts of excitement rang out from all corners of the packed room.
Waitresses scurried through the crowds, trays of beer, hotdogs, and
pretzels skilfully balanced over their heads. Miraculously, they
avoided the erratic movements of the patrons and managed to
complete their jobs without mishap.

Ryne was thankful
that smoking was banned in public places in Ontario; otherwise the
room would likely have been a sea of haze and have smelled like an
ashtray. As it was, those who craved nicotine kept entering and
exiting the bar regularly, getting their fix and then coming back
in while shouting questions about what had happened in the game
during their absence. The constant opening and shutting of the door
meant that gusts of cold night air kept swirling inside, ensuring
that the smell of sweat, beer and fried onions was thoroughly
distributed around the large room.

The heat from
dozens of bodies, the flickering lights from the TV screen and the
sounds from a myriad of conversations bombarded Ryne’s senses. He
let it all wash over him as he sat in the far corner, content to
hide in the relative peace and darkness it offered. His eyes were
half closed as he watched the activity around him, his breathing
deep, and even, his body appearing relaxed. He was in his own
isolated bubble, detached from his surroundings, yet still aware on
some instinctual level, in case something occurred that required a
quick reaction.

Hockey was a fine
game, the company was good, but tonight he had no interest in
either the sport or in socializing. It was only at the insistence
of his friends, Daniel and Bryan, that he’d conceded to leave the
house. Lately, he’d been feeling out of sorts and he was sure they
were trying to cheer him up, not only as part of their duty as
friends, but because they were tired of dealing with his moods.

Maybe the problem
was the fact that it was his birthday, and he was another year
older. He didn’t feel older, despite what the calendar said. Tired,
yes. Older, no. The renovations on his house were extensive and
almost every waking hour was spent trying to repair the place. It
was hard work, but he didn’t mind it. Sitting and doing nothing all
winter would have driven him insane. The work gave him a purpose,
even if it wore him out. So yes, he
was
tired, but that
wasn’t the problem.

Taking another sip
of his beer, he thought about the package he’d received in the mail
this morning. His sister-in-law, Elise, had sent him a sweater for
his birthday and a collection of cards from other members of the
pack. It had been nice to read their well-wishes, but now he was
feeling melancholy, missing the family he’d left behind when he’d
moved here. It wasn’t as easy as he’d thought it would be, striking
out on his own. The hard work and lack of money weren’t that
difficult to deal with; it was the absence of an extended family.
He was used to being part of a large group and now there was only
himself and his two friends. They got along fine, but sometimes the
large house he’d purchased seemed empty and cold. Lately, he’d find
himself looking around and imagining what it would be like to have
happy voices and friendly faces filling the place.

Shifting in his
chair, he absentmindedly watched a leggy blonde walking by his
table for the third time. She gave him a thorough once over and
flashed a smile his way. Automatically, he grinned back and winked,
even though he had no real interest in her. After all the years
he’d spent carousing, such a reaction was ingrained into him.

Hmm... Maybe, the
problem was that he needed to find a permanent companion. It was
spring after all; time for all healthy males to look for a mate.
The only difficulty was that no one appealed to him as much as his
sister-in-law did. She was a sweet thing, usually quiet and trying
to please everyone, but with a strong, feisty side to her as well;
it just didn’t appear that often. He quirked his lips as he thought
about how much he enjoyed provoking her, seeing her temper flare
and her cheeks start to flush. Elise was lovely, with big green
eyes and dark brown hair that fell about her shoulders in a glossy
sheet. Her voice was soothing and her smile could brighten even the
darkest of days. Too bad she was madly in love with his
half-brother, Kane.

They made a great
couple and Ryne knew he’d never have a chance with her, but still
some part of him longed for a partner like Elise. He snorted
ruefully and took another swig of beer, wiping his mouth on the
back of his hand. It was all a pipe dream; someone like Elise would
never put up with him. There were too many rough edges to his
personality for a girl like that. His sense of humour was too
off-beat, he was too impulsive and too quick to anger. Mind you,
once he made a mistake, he owned up to it and faced the
consequences, but then again, that was what any real man would
do.

This made him
think of last fall’s debacle. His then girlfriend, Marla, had
turned out to be a scheming bitch, intent on forcing Kane into
selling his land to an oil company just so she could get her hands
on the proceeds through computerized bank fraud. The woman had even
stooped to murder to get her own way, killing the man that had been
like a father to both himself and Kane. She then pitted brother
against brother, for a while totally alienating them from each
other. Ryne had found himself an unknowing participant in the whole
affair and still mentally kicked himself for how he’d allowed her
to manipulate him. A nasty piece of work, the woman had even
planted evidence so he’d have to take the blame for her misdeeds.
Luckily, Elise had put two and two together and foiled Marla’s
plans.

Once things
settled down after the whole affair, Ryne left the area. While
there were no hard feelings between himself and Kane, he felt the
need to make a fresh start. When he’d noticed the ad for a large
parcel of land in Stump River, he’d jumped on the chance, basically
purchasing the place sight unseen.

He had no regrets,
beyond missing his former pack. The place needed lots of work, but
it was his and there was plenty of room for growth with the
possibility of purchasing even more land in the future, as the
aging population moved to larger centres that supplied more
services for seniors. Yes, it had been a good move.

Ryne glanced
toward the bar to see how Bryan and Daniel were fairing. The two
tended get a bit rowdy at times, and for all that Ryne hated
playing the heavy, he felt a certain responsibility towards them.
More than once since coming to Stump River, he’d had to step in and
remind them to toe the line. After all, he was in charge of this
grand undertaking and he wouldn’t tolerate their stupidity messing
up his plans.

The younger men
had asked to come with him when he announced he was moving here.
Both had been eager to make a fresh start after circumstances in
their own lives had turned sour. Ryne was grateful for their help
and companionship, even if they did irritate him at times. He
watched them, indulgently. Right now, they seemed to be behaving.
Each had an arm around the waist of some local beauty and he was
sure he knew how their evenings would end. At lot of wild oats were
sown around Stump River lately, and as long as the ‘oats’ didn’t
start to grow and cause a population explosion, it was fine with
him. As a preventative measure, he stared intently at the two men,
and as one they sensed his attention, swivelling their heads to
look his way. Meaningfully, he raised his eyebrows and nodded
towards the girls. Daniel immediately dropped his gaze and nodded,
indicating he’d follow the rules. Bryan smirked and raised his beer
in a mock toast before tilting his head in acquiescence.

Ryne couldn’t help
but grin at the fellow’s mock impudence. He and Bryan hadn’t known
each other long, but the two had forged a good relationship. Bryan
liked to push his buttons, but knew when to back off. He was also
Ryne’s right-hand man and could be depended on to watch his back if
the going got rough.

Armand looked up
at that moment and caught Ryne’s eye. He nodded in response to the
implicit question. Soon another beer would be in front of him. He’d
already had several and was planning on having several more,
drowning his sorrows in the golden liquid. Tomorrow, he’d regret
the action, but for tonight, it seemed to be a good idea.

The beverage
appeared in front of him and he looked up to thank the server. An
impressive cleavage met his eye with a name tag affixed to it,
proclaiming the owner of the bosom to be Lucy. Interest stirred low
in his body and he moved his gaze up higher. Lucy had full red lips
and big baby blue eyes that seemed to be stripping him naked. His
body twitched in response to her silent invitation.

Ryne felt his lips
begin to curve into a predatory grin and he snaked an arm around
her waist pulling the woman down onto his lap. He and Lucy had
become well acquainted in the few months since he’d moved to Stump
River. Possibly she was the distraction he needed tonight. She
giggled and ran her fingers through his hair, wiggling in his
lap.

“Is it time for
your break?” He rumbled into her ear.

She glanced
towards the bar. Armand had his back turned, watching the game;
their team was on a power play. Lucy leaned forward and nipped at
his ear. “I don’t think Armand will mind if I spend some time with
a lonely customer.”

Ryne smirked and
stood up, quickly leading the girl down the dark hall towards the
employees’ washroom. He barely had the lights on in the small room
before she was pulling at his clothing. Reaching behind her to turn
the lock, he growled as an animalistic hunger surged through him.
He pushed her back against the wall and kissed her roughly.

In no time at all,
they were coupling. Lucy legs wrapped around his waist as he
grasped her buttocks and thrust into her. The beast inside him
wanted out, but Ryne kept a firm rein on himself. It wasn’t safe to
let himself go completely, not when this was just a casual
relationship that would lead nowhere. There were parts of him that
were too dark to reveal to the likes of a girl such as Lucy.

Lucy was digging
her nails into his back and sucking on his shoulder, her release
obviously close. Ryne moved faster, pounding into her; her bleached
blonde curls and large breasts bouncing up and down from the
rhythm. She threw her head back, crying out as her orgasm hit. He
continued to rock his hips until she was done. Then, with three
more hard thrusts, he found his own release, grunting with pleasure
as his seed spilled from his body.