Jeez, Kat was tired. There were still hours left in the day and she was dragging her feet as though her boots were filled with concrete. Getting up at six to open the cafe hadn’t bothered her until now. Then again, she was currently getting up at four and driving up to Steve McKenna’s place where her sister was laid up with a busted arm.
They might be coyote shifters with quicker healing than humans but snapping the bones in your arm so they stuck out through your skin still required the help of human medical practices to repair. Besides, Gordie couldn’t cook to save her life even with two arms so Kat had been going up each morning and making her and Steve breakfast, leaving pre-made lunch and dinner in their fridge too.
After today Gordie would still have to take it easy, but the cast would be off her arm. Both Steve and Gordie had protested for the last few weeks about Kat’s hovering and she had to admit, if only to herself, that it had nothing to do with Gordie’s busted arm or lack of cooking skills.
God. She hated thinking about what her sister had endured at the hands of that madman. It made her equal parts murderous and sick to her stomach. Kat would have killed Marcus herself if Gordie hadn’t already taken care of that.
Closing her eyes for a moment, she drew in a deep breath to calm down. She’d hold it together. Like she had for weeks now. Since the moment she’d followed her parents into the clinic and seen her sister lying in a pool of blood.
The image would never leave her. It was as though it had been etched on the inside of her eyelids. Except it wasn’t a black and white image. No. It was technicolor bright and all too real, right down to the metallic stench lining her nostrils.
No one knew Kat had been inside the clinic that day because she’d had to race outside and throw up in the dumpster behind the clothing store. By the time she’d pulled herself together the place had filled with people and Gordie had been checked out and allowed to go home with Steve.
It had taken more strength than Kat thought she possessed not to follow them up the mountain. If it wasn’t for Dad’s promise that Gordie only had bumps and bruises, she would have. The reassurance hadn’t stopped her from going without sleep for a solid week though.
She’d finally gotten that anxiety under control when Gordie had tripped on the stairs and tumbled down, snapping her arm in two. One more sight Kat couldn’t erase from her memory. Along with the terror of not being able to grab her sister before she fell.
As quick as her reflexes were, they hadn’t helped when she’d been too far away from Gordie when she’d tripped.
Her sister had had far too much drama in her life and Kat hoped now that Gordie had admitted and accepted her mating with Steve, all the crap was behind her. She’d do everything in her power to make sure Gordie had nothing but happy days for the rest of her life.
She figured Steve had the same goal. That man had been trying to catch her sister’s attention for years. Ever since Gordie had returned to Whispering Springs to take over from their father as the pack’s doctor.
Thinking of her father made Kat smile. It was good to have their parents home for a while even if the circumstances for their extended stay weren’t the best. Neither of them wanted to go traveling in their RV until they were sure Gordie was settled. Which meant Kat had to put up with a few reminders about being single but she could handle those for now.
Besides, she didn’t think it would be long before Steve knocked Gordie up and that would take the pressure off by giving her parents something better than Kat’s single status to occupy their minds.
Smiling, she headed into the storeroom. She’d grab a box of straws and restock before the lunch crowd got crazy. Not that she needed to worry; her staff were competent and capable. In fact, with Wendy in charge of the lunch shift, they didn’t need Kat getting in the way and usually she didn’t. After the morning rush, she’d normally head upstairs to her apartment for a few hours before coming back down to relieve Wendy and to handle the dinner shift.
Wendy had been around for as long as Kat could remember. Granny Roe had hired the young single mom before the doors to the Den had opened and the woman had proven her worth time and time again. Especially in the years between Granny Roe’s death and Kat being ready to take control of the cafe she’d received as her inheritance. And while Wendy wasn’t old or not able to do the job, now that she was in charge Kat preferred to open and close the doors each day. Just like Granny Roe had done before her.
She’d been four when Granny Roe died and while Kat’s memories were few, they were all fresh, bright, and happy, and as clear as though they’d happened yesterday. She fondly remembered all the times she’d been here, in the kitchen and out the front, following Granny Roe around as she’d served drinks and food, chatting with customers.
Her granny had made this place into the heart of Whispering Springs without effort. It was just the way the woman was. She welcomed everyone with a wide smile and open arms.
Kat could only hope to emulate Granny. She’d be happy if she was a fifth as welcoming and nurturing as Granny Roe had been.
Crouching down she reached for a box on the bottom shelf. Her fingers brushed the side of the box when desire exploded in her belly, snapping her upright and dropping her back on her ass. Her pussy heated, pulsed, and dampened. Her breathing hitched, quickening and shallowing to raspy gasps, and perspiration broke out on her skin; goose bumps shimmered over her body as though invisible fingers tickled her flesh.
What the fuck?
Her gaze bounced around the storeroom. Alone. She was alone.
Squeezing her eyes tight, she took a deep breath and tried to focus, tried to work out what the hell was going on.
It was there, a scent, a connection—foreign and yet…somehow familiar.
Someone I know?
No man in Whispering Springs had called to her coyote. She’d lived here all her life, not setting foot off the mountain for more than a day or two, never wanting to. Kat swallowed, a dry mouth and constricted throat making it difficult. Chills raced up and down her spine in spite of the heat blazing inside her.
Her head cocked to one side as a shiver of knowledge rolled through her. He knew she was here; she could feel him searching for her—his coyote reaching for hers. She jerked, muscles quivering with tension while her coyote tugged to be free.
She couldn’t place who had her coyote clawing for release. Didn’t readily recognize the scent or connection.
A stranger?
Another wave of heat and need rolled through her making her moan.
God. This couldn’t be happening. She was sure she didn’t know who had her inner animal wanting to burst free so she could roll over and submit. It had to be a stranger despite of the familiarity she felt.
A stranger in town wasn’t necessarily a bad thing except she wasn’t about to welcome her mate with open arms. Not until she knew who he was. Even then, mate or not, Kathren Joy Monroe would not allow her inner animal to dictate who she spent the rest of her life with. She was in charge of her own future and she wasn’t about to let some mate change where she saw it going.
Shaking herself, Kat bent forward to retrieve the box of straws she’d come in for. There was no use putting it off, she’d just march out into the restaurant and see who her supposed mate was. Only when she pushed to her feet her legs wouldn’t work properly, her knees shook, and when she left the storeroom she wobbled like she had after she’d shifted the first time.
Frustrated at her lack of control, she tossed the box on the countertop and leaned against the kitchen wall. She prided herself on her self-control and to lose it so quickly annoyed and angered her.
The anger was good. She could work with that, channel it and focus it on the problem. Clenching her fists she straightened her spine and steeled her resolve.
Nothing and no one made Kat’s decisions for her, including her coyote half.
Gordie said she was a control freak but Kat just liked to make her own choices—decide her own path. She had a clear goal when it came to her life, and she was well on her way to achieving it; there was no way she would let some stranger—her supposed mate—derail her because their animals were meant to be together.
Fucking stupid fated-mate bullshit.
For the first time in her life she cursed her coyote genes.
“Hey, boss, you all right?”
Wendy’s question broke Kat from her thoughts. Turning her head, she saw the older woman carrying a huge tray of dirty dishes just inside the door leading to the dining area.
Forcing a smile, she pushed off the wall. “Yeah, taking a moment to catch my breath. I’ve been run off my feet all day and that day started well before dawn.”
“You still checking in with your sister each morning before work?” Wendy’s voice was laced with concern, her forehead wrinkled in a frown as she made her way across the kitchen. “I can’t believe she snapped her arm in half walking down a flight of stairs.”
Kat couldn’t either. Gordie had fought off a madman and come away with barely a scratch, then she’d slipped at the top of the stairs in the house she shared with her new husband, Steve, and tumbled to the bottom. Kat shook her head. Her sister had come out of that incident with a busted arm, a concussion, and a huge dose of embarrassment.
“Today was the last day. She got the cast off this morning so she’ll be able to drive from now on. Not that she hasn’t tried to already.” Kat scowled, a grumble of displeasure leaving her throat at the thought of her sister attempting the treacherous snow-covered mountain roads with a cast on her arm.
Wendy laughed as she laid the heavy tray on the counter by the sink and opened the dishwasher. “Why does that not surprise me? Honestly, you Monroe women are all alike. Never let anything stop you from doing what you want. Stubborn to the core the lot of you,” Wendy said as she glanced over her shoulder at Kat, her twinkling eyes and smile showing her words weren’t meant as an insult.
Kat grinned. Wendy was right, although Kat preferred the word determined. Her friend’s observations reminded her she didn’t have to let the appearance of her mate interfere with her life.
Monroe females were independent, capable women who did what they set out to do, and they didn’t need a man to get it done. She needed to remember that and continue to take her own path as Granny Roe, her mother, and sister had before her.
“I like to think we’re determined.” Kat walked over and reached for a stack of bowls. “And capable. There isn’t anything a Monroe woman can’t do.”
“Being capable and determined doesn’t mean you shouldn’t accept help, young lady. There’s greater strength in accepting help than there is in doing it alone. Take this place. You couldn’t do it without all of us.”
Kat’s gaze jumped to Wendy’s. “That’s different.”
Wendy shook her head. “No, it isn’t, but I’m not arguing with you about it. We’ve got a full restaurant out there. Let’s get this load in and started before we run out of clean plates.”
In silence they packed the dishwasher and when the last plate was in Wendy closed the door and hit start.
“Right. Back to the trenches. Where you don’t need me because you’re capable but I’m helping anyway,” Wendy said with a wink before striding across the room and slipping through the door to the restaurant.
Kat shook her head and pondered Wendy’s words. The older woman made sense except Kat didn’t think it applied to her current situation at all. Running the Den had nothing in common with finding your mate. It was two completely different things. This was a business. A mate was for life. She already had her life mapped out and nowhere on there was a mate mentioned.
Bracing herself, she followed Wendy’s path and pushed through the swinging doors.
Time to face this new hurdle to the future she’d mapped out for herself and find a way over, under, around, or through it—him.