Page 8 of Return to the Pack

At first, we were regarded with suspicion or curiosity or both. But when the pack saw how hard we all work, they eased up on their doubts and worked side by side with us to put their homes to rights.

The water isn’t too high near Axel’s former house, though it’s an irreparable wreck. Axel doesn’t bat an eye at the wreckage. Instead, he gives more thanks for his life having been spared, then turned to me and says, “Let’s check on yours.”

Next, we drive by my home, which still stands but is flooded. At least there’s more left than the debris that lay where Axel’s house once stood.

When the heavy work slows down, Axel and Warrick keep going into town to work with the pack on details while Ethan and Callan start looking for odd jobs to pay something they have called bills. One morning, I wake to find everyone gone but Callan.

“Where’s the others?” I ask, stretching and yawning as I enter the kitchen and pour myself a cup of coffee from the pot.

“Ethan got a one-man job in town, and the others are taking care of some pack business,” Callan says, rinsing his plate and setting it in the rack. “Guess it’s just you and me today, pet. Want to eat on the porch?”

I take a plate of food they set out for me and my coffee and head to the porch where Callan sits down to roll a smoke. It’s a sultry day today, so I’m wearing short shorts and a tight lavender t-shirt to match my hair. I sit on the swing and stretch my legs into the sunshine.

Callan licks his lips as he eyes my legs, then lifts his gaze to my face. “I thought I’d go looking for herbs in the woods today. I need to stock my medicinal supply. Reckon you want to join me? Wouldn’t hurt to have someone around here who knows what’s what in case I ever get hurt.”

The thought of trekking through the woods with Callan floods my heart with joy. Each night, by the time we get back from town, we’ve all been too exhausted to hunt or do anything besides collapse into bed and fall straight to sleep. My lips roll between my teeth as I study Callan, wondering if he’s also thinking we might use this alone time for more than learning. “That sounds like a great idea,” I say. “We’ve been working pretty steadily for a couple of weeks, anyway. It would be nice to have a quieter day with just the two of us.”

“There’s still more work to be done in town,” Callan says. “But we have to take care of ourselves, too.”

I hope he’s feeling what I’m feeling, that we’re both horny and in need of a good fuck. But I can’t tell yet. I’m not as good at reading people as the triplets are, having so much less experience in my life. Mercy on the Swamp Dogs, but I hope it’s me. I could use a roll with all of them after being too busy for more than a quick kiss or two for the past few weeks.

After I eat and Callan finishes his cigarette, he gets a backpack together and tells me it’s time to set off. “I brought some food, water, tools for gathering specimens, even a blanket for when we need a recess from plant life.”

A smirk crosses his handsome face, and a flame of desire licks between my thighs like Axel’s tongue when he gets me going.

“Okay,” I say, as if I’m only thinking about herbs.

Callan studies me with a playful expression. “What’s going through that bright mind of yours?”

I shrug. “Plantlife. What else could I be thinking of?”

He adjusts the backpack into position with a laugh, throws his arm over my shoulders, and we proceed into the woods with sure, bare-footed steps.

As we trek through the squishy bog, stepping around swamp grass and ducking around the Tupelo trees, my soul is filled with contentment. Sure, we just endured an immense tragedy. Axel lost his house, and we almost lost Axel. But together, we made things right. Life these days is so different from the isolation in which I was raised.

Callan’s eyes are trained on the ground, scanning for whatever it is he’s looking for. A twinge of disappointment twists my insides that we haven’t immediately gotten physical.

“There we go….” Callan points at a cluster of low-growing green-leafed plants dotted with dainty purple flowers. “Let’s get some of that. That’s Pennyroyal.”

“Pennyroyal,” I repeat. “What’s it used for?”

He taps his lips. “This one’s an insect repellent, antiseptic, stimulant, antispasmodic and for bowel disorders, helps with skin eruptions, and pneumonia…. And it’s also used to stimulate a lady’s moon cycle.”

Callan stoops and plucks a few sprigs of the plant. I crouch next to him, taking a whiff of the fragrance emitted by the plant. “That smells good.”

“Doesn’t it? Pennyroyal is a member of the mint family.” Callan smiles at me, then says, “Open up my backpack and get out a plastic bag, will you, pet?”

I do as he asks.

He fills the baggie with Pennyroyal, stands, and hands it to me. I put it back in the pack, eyeing his strong neck and shoulders. Damn, but he’s sexy.

He throws his arm around me again, and we trek through the rain-soaked swamp. Once more, his eyes scan the earth instead of me.

The day isn’t going like I wanted, and I start to pout.

“Oh, look,” he says, sounding excited. “Here’s some Shepherd’s needle. Let’s get some for supper.”

“Have we had this before?” I ask, trying to be as interested as he is.