Making a deal for Callista
1278 Words
*Chase*
“By the Goddess, you have no right!” Alpha Arly Windscar bellows.
Leaning back, I plant my elbows on the wooden arms of my leather chair. I steeple my long fingers and press them against my taut lips. Narrowing my hazel eyes, I glare at the spittle that had flown from Windscar’s mouth and plopped onto the edge of my mahogany desk. I can imagine it sliding along the front of my desk like a slug slipping out at night to coat the land in slime.
Slowly, I raise my eyes to my adversary's. "I have every right to fence in my land," I say calmly.
"But you fenced in the river!" He spits, quite literally.
"It's on my land. Any Alpha of sound reputation would side with me. None would blame me for stringing up your sons from the nearest tree. We have an unwritten code that most packs honor. Once someone has a valid claim to a river or a water hole, another pack won't come within twenty-five miles of it, with or without a fence. No one would have questioned my right to take the fence back farther, but I graciously left miles of land open to grazing."
He huff and puffs. "To taunt us. I don't need grassland, damn you! I need water!"
"You have creeks and rivers on your land." I point out.
"I have got nothing but dry creek beds." He half yells.
I shake my head in sympathy. "I can't help that mother nature chose to dry up your water supply and left mine flowing, but I don't part with anything of mine freely."
Alpha Windscar's face turns a mottled shade of red. It occurs to me that the man might have an apoplexy fit right here in my office. Then I would never get what I want.
"Freely," Arly mutters. "You won't part with your water freely, but you will part with it for a price. Is that what this meeting is about? Is that why you fenced in the river? So you could get something for the water? Isn't it enough that you stole my land?"
"I've owned that stretch of land since 1868." I say calmly.
Arly snorts. "So you say."
"The law backs my claim," I remind him.
Arly releases a harsh breath. "Then name your price for the water, and I'll pay it. What do you want? Money? Cattle? More land?"
I lower my hands to my lap, the fingers of my right hand stroking the ivory handle of the gun strapped to my thigh. I should have insisted this meeting be held without weapons in tow.
"I have money. I have cattle. I have land. I want something that I don't have. Something as precious as the cool water. Something as beautiful as the flowing river." Giving my words a moment to echo inside Windscar's head, I tighten my hand around the gun. "Something as pure as the sun-glistened water."
Arly shakes his head. "You're talking in riddles. I don't have anything that's pure or precious or beautiful."
"I've heard you have a daughter," I say, wishing I hadn't needed to be quite so blunt.
The furrows that run across Windscar's brow deepen. "Yes, I have a daughter, but I don't see what that has to do with anything."
I'm beginning to question the wisdom of holding this meeting with Arly, wondering if it might have been better to discuss the particulars of my compromise with his son, Beta Rowan. "Maybe you haven't noticed, but she-wolves are scarce. I need one."
"My Goddess! You can't be serious!" Windscar yells, his eyes bulging from their sockets.
"I'm dead serious." I say.
Arly slumps in his chair. "You'll give me access to your water if I give you access to my daughter?"
With a speed I never would have expected of the rotund man, Arly lunges across the desk and grabs my shirt. I bring the gun from my holster and jab it into the folds of Arly's neck, but the man is apparently too angry to notice. Spittle spews into my face.
"I'll see you dead first," Arly growls.
"That won't get you the water," I say in an even voice.
He is still yelling. "I won't give you my daughter as a w***e!"
"I don't want her as a w***e. I want her as my mate and wife." I say.
Arly Windscar blinks. "You want to marry her?"
"Is there a reason that I shouldn't?" I ask.
Arly drops into the chair. "You want to marry Callista?"
Callista? I'm going to pull my fence back for a she-wolf named Callista? Where in the hell did Windscar come up with that name?
"You don't even know her," Windscar says.
I lean forward, the tension in the room palpable. "Look, Windscar, we've been arguing over that strip of land for three years now. The law says it's mine and gives me the right to fence in and protect what's mine. Your sons killed my cattle."
"You can't prove it." He huffs.
"Two nights ago, they damn near killed my brother. I went to war when I was fourteen. I've fought Yankees, rogues, outlaws, and now I'm fighting my neighbors." I sink into my chair, feeling the exhaustion of the long-standing feud. "I'm tired of fighting. Arly, I need a son to whom I can pass my legacy. I need a mate to give me a legitimate heir. The pickings around here are slim."
Arly comes out of his chair and pounds a fist on the desk. "The pickings? If I were ten years younger, I'd pound you into the dirt for thinking so lowly of my daughter."
"I think very highly of her because I respect her father. We're both working hard to carve an empire from desolate land, and we're both on the verge of destroying all we've attained. Barbed wire is part of the future. I put it up, you tear it down. I'm going to keep putting it up." I take a deep breath, ready to play my final hand. "But tomorrow at dawn, I'm giving my men orders to shoot to kill anyone who touches my wire or trespasses on my land."
"You are a son of a b***h," Arly snarls.
"Maybe, but I've poured my heart and soul into this pack and our ranch. I'm not going to let you destroy it. Marrying your daughter will give us a common bond."
"You don't even know her," Arly repeats, bowing his head. "She's…"
I have my first sense of foreboding. "She's what?"
"Frail, delicate, like her mother." He lifts his gaze. "I honestly don't know if she could survive being… married to you."
"I'd never hurt her. I give you my word on that." I say. “I do not hurt she-wolves.”
Arly walks to the window, his eyes fixed on the vast expanse of land. "You will pull your fence back?"
"The morning after we're married." I promise.
Arly nods slowly. "Deed the land that runs for twenty-five miles along both sides of the river to me, and I'll have her on your doorstep tomorrow afternoon."
Damn! I wonder if Arly has read the desperation in my voice or in my eyes. Either way, I've lost my edge, and staring at the cocky tilt of his chin and the gleam in his eyes, I know that Arly understands he has the upper hand. "When she gives me a son, I'll deed the land over to you."
Arly points a shaking finger at me. "All the land that I thought I owned when I came here."
"Every acre." I promise.
- Writer
