The broken Alpha - Healed by innocence

Precious

*Chase*

Near dusk, I bring my horse to a halt in front of the corral. The flowers I have pulled from the ground along the way have wilted in my hand. I dismount, trying to decide if my wife would want them anyway.

"My Alpha?"

I turn at Slim's irritated voice.

"We got trouble," the lanky man says.

I sigh, not at all surprised. One of my wells has run dry, and I have cattle dying on the north end. "What kind of trouble?"

"Prairie dog. Blaise took your Luna walking, and they found a prairie dog. He let her keep it." He says.

"He what?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "He let her take it into the house to doctor it up. Said she was gonna feed it some milk. You ever hear of anything like that? I dadgum guarantee that ain’t gonna sit well with the men. Thought you oughta know."

The flowers fall from my hand. "See after Satan, will you?"

"You will get rid of that prairie dog, won't you?" Slim asks.

"I will get rid of it." I say.

Marrying a she-wolf I didn't know hadn't sounded like such a bad idea until I had done it. What in the hell could she want with a prairie dog?

I stride toward the house. Blaise sits on the steps, one long leg stretched out before him, the other serving as a resting place for his violin as he plucks the strings.

I grind to a halt, and Blaise tilts his head back, his blue eyes looking as innocent as a newborn babe's.

"Tell me that we’re having prairie-dog stew for supper," I command.

Blaise smiles. "I would be lying if I said that. Learned long ago that lying only brings trouble."

"Then what in the hell were you thinking to let her take a prairie dog into the house?" I bellow.

Blaise lifts a shoulder in a careless shrug. "She ain’t my mate. Didn’t think it was my place to tell her she couldn’t keep it. Figured that decision was yours to make."

"There’s no decision to make. A prairie dog isn’t a pet. It’s a varmint." I sigh.

"You gonna tell her that?" He asks.

I huff. "Damn right I am."

"You gonna tell her she can’t keep it?" He asks.

"Hell, yes, I’m going to tell her she can’t keep it." I growl.

Blaise shakes his head. "I sure wouldn’t want to walk into that house wearing your boots."

"You couldn’t if you wanted. Your feet are too big. Where is she?" I ask.

"Last I saw her, she was in the kitchen." He says.

I march through the house and stride into the kitchen. With the creature squirming in her lap, Callista fidgets in a straight-backed chair. She jerks her head up.

"Oh, thank goodness," she says on a rushed sigh with obvious relief.

The anger drains right out of me at the sight of her lovely face with no fear in her eyes.

"Here," she says as she stands and holds the varmint toward me. "Hold her."

"What?" I say, blinking in confusion.

"Hold her," she repeats as she shoves the animal into my hands, grabs my arm, and pulls me to the chair. "Sit down."

Stunned by the urgency in her voice, I sit.

"I cleaned her wound and put some salve on it, but I was having a terrible time trying to wrap her leg," she explains as she picks a strip of white linen off the floor. "Hold her paw for me so I can dress it. Otherwise, she’ll lick off the salve."

I fight to hold the animal motionless while Callista winds a piece of good clean linen around its wound.

Suddenly, her hands still, and she looks at me. “Someone set a trap on your land. What sort of cruel person would do that?”

Guilt makes me clear my throat. “Someone who recognized that a prairie dog is dangerous.”

Her hands still again. “How is she dangerous?”

“Because she lives underground and burrows holes across the prairie. A horse drops a leg into that hole, he usually breaks his leg and has to be shot.” I explain.

“Then the hole is dangerous, not the prairie dog.” She points out.

I sigh. “That’s like saying a gun is dangerous, not the man holding it.”

“It’s not the same at all.” She finishes wrapping the bandage around its paw. “Blaise thought I should name her Trouble, but I like the name Precious. What do you think?”

I think I could get used to carrying on a conversation with her that isn’t guided by fear, but I have to deal with this unpleasant task first. “Prairie dogs are a cowboy’s worst enemy. You can’t keep it.”

“Why? I will keep Precious with me. I won’t let her dig any holes.” She says.

“I need to take the prairie dog outta here.” I mumble.

She grabs the animal from my hands and scurries to the corner, hunching her shoulders as though to protect herself and the animal. “What are you going to do with her?” she asks, the apprehension plunging into her eyes.

The dog releases a high-pitched yelp. I can’t tell the she-wolf I’m going to shoot the varmint. I shove myself to my feet with such force that the chair teeters and topples to its side. My mate flinches.

“I will make it a damn leash, but if it gets off the leash I won’t be responsible for it.” I tell her.

I storm through the kitchen door at the back of the house and head into the barn. I jerk some reins off the wall and stalk to the workroom at the back of the building. I set the leather strips on the scarred table, unsheath my knife, and start cutting.

If I ever have any daughters, I'm going to teach them how to deal with a rough world. They can cuss, chew tobacco, and drink like a man for all I care, but they sure as hell aren’t going to be docile creatures afraid of their own shadows or their husbands’ voices.

I hear the muffled footsteps and carve more deeply into the tanned hide.

“So did you break the news to her?” Blaise asks as he leans against the doorway.

“Yep,” I grind out through my clenched teeth as I drill a ragged hole into the leather with the point of my knife.

“How did she take the news?” Blaise asks.

I don’t look at him. “She took it just fine.”

Blaise shakes his head. “Sure wish I had your skill with people. I couldn’t think of a way to tell her without breaking her heart.”

He ambles into the room and looks over my shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Working.” I growl.

“I can see that. What are you making?” He asks.

I tighten my jaw until it aches. “A leash.”

“A leash? For what? That’s so tiny... Good goddess! You’re letting her keep it.” He grins.

I spin around and brandish the knife in front of my brother’s face. “Don’t say another word. Not one word. If you value your hide, you will wipe that stupid grin off your face and get the hell out of here.”

Holding up his hands, Blaise begins to back away. “I wouldn’t dream of saying anything.”

But when he's out of sight, his laughter echoes throughout the barn.