Chapter 11

Ares remained on high alert the entire time he prepped the farm and fetched the tree with Greta. As he finished strapping the fir into the bed of his truck, he heard a car turning into the driveway. Not suspicious in and of itself. Sometimes people got lost or needed to turn around. Mom’s honey shack, at the top of the driveway, also led to some seeking it after it closed for the season. Still, not wanting to take a chance, Ares sent Charly inside as a precaution.

Good thing

First off, the car that slowed to a stop a few meters from his truck had rental plates. It differed in style and color from the one he’d seen that morning outside Charly’s place, though. The guy that emerged from the driver’s seat had size to him, not the kind that came from muscle, but excess. While not fat, his body bore some extra padding. Dark hair with matching beard. A lumberjacket layered over a knitted sweater. Jeans and steel-toe boots.

His wolf growled, Bad. Bad. Bad.

He’d already figured that part out.

Ares strolled in the stranger’s direction. “Can I help you?”

“Looking for Ares’ Artisanal Cheese.”

The mention of his company surprised. For one, while he advertised his business, he didn’t offer an address. His cheese was sold mostly at farmers’ markets and by special arrangement with small vendors in the area.

“Who’s asking?”

“I’m looking for the owner. Ares McMurray.”

“I’m Ares.”

“You’re the cheesemaker?” Buddy eyed him up and down with a smirk. “You don’t look like a pansy.”

That arched his brow. “Funny you should say that. I thought you looked like a dick, and here you are sounding like one.”

The insult drew the stranger’s brows together. “Do you try and piss off everyone who comes looking to buy your artsy-fartsy cheese?”

“Only those who shouldn’t be here. I don’t sell cheese from my house, so I’m kind of wondering how you got my address.”

“Wasn’t too hard to find, given you’re a registered business.” A claim that indicated this guy went through the trouble.

“What do you want?” Ares didn’t even pretend to be polite. Something about the fellow had his wolf growling, Enemy.

“I’m looking for a woman and her daughter. My wife to be exact. We had a tiff, and she ran off.”

Ares didn’t let his expression change. “I’m sure it had nothing to do with your shining personality.”

“Don’t fuck with me. Have you seen them?”

“Why would I have seen them?” Ares lied. “I’m single and kind of happy to stay that way.”

“Your business card was found where she’s staying.”

The admission almost sent him the few remaining feet separating them so he could pummel the man’s smug face. This asshole had been the one to trash Charly’s place.

He held himself in check. While hitting would offer some satisfaction, it wouldn’t keep his girls safe.

Rather than give anything away, he scoffed at the guy’s assumption. “Lots of people have my cards. I hand out hundreds every summer at the farmers’ markets.”

“Says the guy whose truck was spotted on her street.” The guy glanced at Ares’ vehicle.

“Where abouts does your wife live?”

“Arnprior.”

Ares shook his head. “Haven’t been to Arnprior in about a month. And hate to break it to you, but my truck’s hardly unique.”

“You don’t want to be keeping my wife and kid from me,” warned the fellow.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, only I don’t have them, and if you can’t find them, maybe there’s a reason.”

The guy took an aggressive step in his direction. “You need to watch what you say.”

“Or what?” Ares broadened his shoulders and let a mean glint enter his eyes. “Gonna hit me? Go ahead. But be warned, I will hit back harder.”

Much harder.

The man’s lips pursed. “If I find out you’re hiding them…”

“Oh fuck off already. Your wife and kid ain’t here, and I got better shit to deal with than an asshole.”

“Going somewhere?”

“None of your fucking business. Now git.”

The belligerent man got into his car, a surprise, as Ares really thought he’d fight. The asshole reversed and turned around before speeding off, kicking up gravel and snow.

Ares kept watching, and listening, even after his wolf said, He’s gone.

Gone, but he shouldn’t have come here in the first place. He’d completely forgotten he’d given Charly his business card. Good thing they weren’t planning to stay. Although they would have to eventually come back. Even with the feeders and the heaters, he’d have to return to check the animals within a day or so. He’d have to do something about the asshole before then.

When the girls did emerge, he couldn’t help glancing up the driveway. Had the jerk parked out of sight? Would they be ambushed?

Ares hated saying anything, but Charly had a right to know. When he told her they had trouble, her expression became that scared, panicked look he hated so much.

Protect, whined his wolf.

I’m trying.

“What kind of trouble?” she murmured.

“Hold on a second while I get Greta buckled.” He put the kid in her booster and handed her a book he’d bought earlier that day, a find-the-object picture book that had her “Ooohing.”

“You stay in here where it’s nice and toasty, while your mom and me finish locking up.”

Greta was already engrossed as he closed the truck door.

“Who was in the car?” Charly hissed.

“Your ex I assume, since he called you his wife.”

She snorted. “We were never married. We lived together for just over a year. We weren’t even engaged.” As her ire faded, she whispered, “He found us.”

“He doesn’t know that. He came here because he found my business card at your place, so I told him to fuck off, that I didn’t know you.”

“He won’t give up.” She paced in a tight circle and wrung her hands.

“Don’t you worry about that prick. I’ll handle him.”

“You can’t. You don’t understand what he’s capable of.” She paused before blurting out, “He’s killed people.”

Not surprising given his brutish thug vibe. “And?”

“And I don’t want you to be hurt.”

“Aw, Charly.” He grabbed her hands and forced her to meet his gaze. “You don’t have to worry about me. I guarantee you I’m tougher than that fucker.”

Way tougher. And meaner. Full moon is soon. We should eat his face.

He just might, if only to get that petrified look off her face.

“Are you not listening? I just said he’s killed people.”

He dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose. “Still not worried and neither should you be. Have I mentioned Grams and Gramps are marksmen? Oh, and they have their property booby-trapped, which is in addition to all the cameras.”

“I don’t want them shooting Barry and going to jail.”

“As if the cops would ever find a body,” he scoffed, only belatedly realizing how it sounded.

She blinked at him.

He smiled. “Just kidding. If your ex comes intending violence, then we have a right to defend ourselves.”

“Maybe in the USA, but this is Canada. You’re more likely to be arrested than him,” she grumbled.

She had a point. Their justice system could be skewed in favor of criminals. “Maybe he’ll try to come through the woods, and something even meaner will eat him.”

A ghost of a smile curved her lips. “We should be so lucky.”

Little did she know he could make it a reality. Animal attacks, while rare this close to the city, did happen, and if a stranger dumbly met a wolf and succumbed to his injuries, well, that was nature.

Hunting time?

Soon. Very soon. The full moon would be coming, and while he could shift without it, he’d be at his strongest during its glow. If he could sneak away. It might actually be easier in a house full of people. He could always use the excuse he had to check on the farm.

“Come on. Let’s get out of here before the storm worsens.” The falling snow had thickened while they talked, covering the ground in a layer of white.

“Is it safe to drive?” she asked.

“We’ll be fine. It’s not too far from here.” The truth, in good weather.

What should have taken under forty minutes took over an hour. While his truck in four-by-four could handle the slick conditions, other people couldn’t. They saw three cars in the ditch before they left the highway. Two more with their hazards flashing as they hit the country road to Grams and Gramps’ place. However, this wasn’t his first snowy rodeo. They made it there safely.

Ares hopped out of the truck, but before he could give Charly a hand, she was standing in the creeping snow, looking around. “Big farm.”

“Yeah. They’ve got a few more acres than us.” A hundred more, to be exact.

He reached up for Charly, who slid into his arms with a giggle. “Is this Athena’s house?” Greta pointed to the structure with the wrap-around porch.

“Kind of. Remember Derek? He grew up with his grandparents here.”

“I don’t have a grandma,” Greta informed him.

“Well, I think the Grams Kennedy will be happy to let you think of her as one while you’re here.” He winked as he put her on the ground. “Head up to the house while I grab our bags.”

Greta happily skipped through the snow, but Charly gave him a hand. “You’re sure we’re not imposing?”

“Athena texted they were expecting us. But be warned, the Kennedys are kind of nutty.”

“Nutty how?”

“Well, they cuss a lot.”

Charly grimaced. “Not ideal, but I can handle it.”

“And they love to talk about the coming apocalypse.”

“You mentioned the bomb shelter. Guess that makes them preppers.”

“Of the highest order. Also, they grow cannabis.”

Her eyes widened. “As in weed?”

“Yes.”

Her lips pursed in disapproval, and he hastened to add, “It is completely legal. Grams and my mom actually have a collaboration. THC-infused honey. They’re thinking of branching out into edibles since they both love to cook.”

“I don’t do drugs.”

“This isn’t a drug den, I promise. While Gramps does edibles for his arthritis, Grams doesn’t touch the stuff.”

“Guess it’s too late to go home now,” she muttered.

“It will be fine. You’ll see. They’re actually quite sweet once you get past the fact Grams calls Derek the little bastard.”

“Isn’t he her grandson?”

“Yeah. But I promise it’s a term of endearment.”

Charly sighed. “Anything else?”

“Expect to see guns. For protection, you know, from like bears and stuff.”

“Guns.” A flat repeat of the word.

“Don’t worry. They won’t have them where Greta can play with them, and the safeties will be on.”

“Greta knows better than to touch them. We had a big talk about guns after a classmate in BC accidentally shot themselves with their dad’s service weapon.”

“Yikes.”

“Indeed.” She squared her shoulders. “Okay, let’s do this.”

They marched to the house. Athena had already ushered Greta inside and, as they entered, was showing the princess where to hang her coat and put her boots. He didn’t remember seeing the kid-height hook last time he was there.

“Storm’s getting bad,” Athena observed, glancing outside before shutting the door behind them.

“Roads are already showing accumulation and idiots,” he advised. “Where’s Derek?”

“Out in the barn with the horses. He wanted to give them some extra oats, and then he’s going to run a guideline from the barn to the house in case visibility is poor in the morning.”

“Horses?” Greta picked up on the word, and Athena grinned as she crouched.

“Yup. We also have a cow for milk, pigs, and chickens.”

“Ares has goats.”

“I know. Who do you think buys the pajamas for them?” Athena winked.

“What happened to Rosy?” Ares had gotten used to the old hound greeting him with a woof.

“Rainbow bridge,” Athena murmured.

“Damn, she was a good dog.” Ares didn’t have one growing up because his mom said she already had enough canines in the house.

“Shall we go meet Grams and Gramps?” Athena asked.

Greta nodded, but she snagged her mother’s hand as they entered the living room.

“About time you got here. Gramps was about to fire up the snowmobile and go hunting for you,” declared Grams from her throne, a plaid-covered recliner. The footrest had been elevated to accommodate one of her knees bound in bandages.

“Hey, Grams, what happened to the leg?” Ares asked upon seeing her.

“Twisted it when I slipped on some ice,” her scowled reply.

“And she won’t take anything for the pain,” Gramps added from a matching chair. The pair might be in their seventies but appeared and acted younger. They had the grayish-white hair of age and a face full of wrinkles, but both remained very active.

“Grams, I’d like you to meet my friend, Charlotte, and her highness, princess Greta.”

“Hello and thank you for inviting us into your home,” a polite Charly stated.

“Bah, it’s no problem. Plenty of room, although we do expect everyone to pull their weight,” Grams stated.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Don’t call me ma’am,” Grams squeaked. “I’m Grams, this is Gramps.”

Gramps grunted.

Charly leaned down to whisper to Greta, “Say hello.”

“Hi.” A shy Greta tucked behind her mom.

“I once knew a Greta,” Grams stated. “Loved chocolate chip cookies.”

Greta peeked out from behind a leg. “So do I.”

“It just so happens I’ve got all the ingredients to make a fresh batch in the kitchen. With this bum knee, I could use a helper. I don’t suppose you like to cook?”

“I love to cook.” Greta emerged with a smile.

As Grams went to heave herself from the chair, Ares dove to give her a hand and got a glare for daring to offer.

“I’m not an invalid yet,” Grams grumbled. Her expression brightened as she tottered around Ares. “Come with me, sweetling. Let’s go make those cookies, and we’d better hide some for Santa, else Gramps will gobble them all up.”

Derek walked in just as Grams left the room with Greta. Ares stared in shock, and Derek’s jaw dropped, but Athena snickered.

Charlotte eyed them with confusion. “Is something wrong?”

“Grams never talks that nice,” Derek stated.

“Or without swearing,” Ares added.

Athena smirked. “Guess someone’s got a soft spot for kids.”

“A good thing, since you’re expecting,” Ares stated.

Athena pursed her lips. “Says who?”

“As if I wouldn’t notice the changes in you,” he scoffed.

Gramps chuckled. “We all knew. Grams is already ordering stuff for the nursery.”

Athena shook her head but smiled as she patted her belly. “You are going to be so spoiled.”

“Heck yes, she is!” Ares rubbed his hands. “Uncle Ares is going to be her favorite.”

“How do you figure?”

“I have goats.”

“Selene has bunnies,” Athena pointed out.

“I make cheese.”

“Fancy cheese. Kids like the orange stuff in plastic or a jar,” Athena riposted.

“She’s right,” Charly added. “Greta loves that processed stuff.”

“I will be the favorite,” Ares insisted.

“Nah, that will be me,” Derek argued. “She’s gonna be daddy’s girl.”

“You’re all idiots,” Gramps blustered. “She’s gonna be grandpa’s angel, you’ll see.”

Charlotte leaned close as they continued to argue. “This isn’t what I expected.”

“Better or worse?”

“Kind of awesome. It’s obvious everyone’s real close to each other.”

“Family isn’t always about blood. It’s who you can tolerate,” he sagely stated.

“Should I give Grams a hand?” she asked, looking at the kitchen.

Athena heard and shook her head. “You’ll get in Grams’ bad books for sure if you do. Helping is by invitation only. Why don’t we get your stuff up to your rooms? Grams gave you the corner bedroom with the queen bed, and Greta’s right across the hall in the hobby room with the futon.”

“There must be something I can do to help, though,” Charly insisted once they returned downstairs from dropping their bags in the room.

Gramps cleared his throat. “I hear someone brought a tree. You could get started on that.”

The tree went up in the front window—after they smacked most of the snow from its branches—and a dusty box of ornaments emerged from a storage closet under the basement stairs.

A beaming Greta emerged right after they wrapped the tree in lights, carefully balancing a tray of hot cookies. Grams, wearing the softest smile Ares had ever seen, hobbled after her.

“The girl is a natural chef,” Grams declared, sitting in her chair once more. Everyone took a cookie or two—or three, in Ares’ case—and agreed.

To everyone’s surprise, Greta ended up in Grams’ lap, where the two of them put their heads together and discussed what they’d bake Christmas Eve.

Charly leaned against Ares and whispered, “I’m so glad you convinced me to come.”

So was he, especially once the storm took out the power for a good chunk of Ottawa and surrounding areas.

Once Greta went to bed—after hugging Grams, Gramps, Athena, and Derek—things got serious as Grams stared at Charly and point-blank asked, “Who’s the asshole terrorizing you and that sweet child?”