S. Yule - Lycan Redemption

She stretched her arms above her head as she walked out of the barn toward the house. Damn, she was stiff and sore. Halfway to the house, she came to an abrupt halt. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and a strange feeling that she was being watched slid through her. It wasn’t uncommon for her to get that feeling. Being out in the middle of nowhere surrounded by thick woods had a way of occasionally playing with one’s mind. When it wasn’t her mind playing tricks on her, she figured she was probably being watched by some kind of animal. This time the feeling was different. It wasn’t a fleeting moment of sudden awareness that she could brush off. The way her skin tingled told her this was more than a random unexplainable feeling.

She carefully searched the perimeter of the old cedar farmhouse, but couldn’t find anything amiss. It wasn’t until she turned her gaze to the tree line bordering the pasture that she noticed a man standing in the clearing watching her. She slid her gaze back to the house, relieved that Patrick was safely ensconced inside. She didn’t have a reason to think the man was a threat, but she had no reason to believe otherwise either. She tensed as he started in her direction.

She was relieved that he walked slowly and kept his hands in plain sight by his sides as if trying to silently communicate that he was no threat. She didn’t get any bad vibes from him, didn’t instantly feel the need to flee, but she couldn’t overlook that she and Patrick were alone and miles from civilization. She was her nephew’s only protection, and she didn’t take that duty lightly.

The man stopped about twenty feet from her, and her pulse amped up when she got a better look at him. He was huge. His hair was dark and a bit long and uneven, as if it had been a while since he’d had a haircut. He wore dark jeans, black hiking boots, and a dark green T-shirt. His deeply tanned skin told her he probably spent several hours a day in the sun. His scruff gave him a somewhat haggard look, and although he appeared to be in his mid-to-late thirties, his lean, muscular body was in prime condition.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Name’s Galen.”

A shiver that had nothing to do with the crisp fall breeze on her sweat-dampened skin ran up her spine as the sound of his quiet, gravelly voice warmed her like the late summer sun. She was startled that the voice of a stranger should affect her in such a way, but quickly forgot that conundrum when he took another step closer and she stared into his light hazel eyes. They reminded her of clear pools of liquid silver, and she barely kept a sigh from escaping her lips at the sheer beauty of them.

Snap out of it, Myka. You’re drooling over a man that just appeared out of nowhere on your property. Then it hit her. He was here for the job. She’d gotten riled up over nothing. Jump to conclusions much?

“Are you here for the job?”

He hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “Yes, ma’am.”

Ma’am. Damn, how she hated to be called ma’am. Made her feel older than dirt, and she was only twenty-five.

“Have you had any experience with animals?”

“I’ve had plenty of experience with animals.” A slight smile tugged at the corner of his full lips.

She eyed him again. He was in tip-top form for physical work. He’d have no problem handling the things she needed help with.

“Are you good at fixing things?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Please stop calling me ma’am. My name is Myka Dougan. Call me Myka.”

“Myka.”

The way he said her name, as if tasting every letter on his tongue, made goose bumps of awareness raise on her skin. His voice was like a smooth shot of whiskey. He was too good-looking, and she was too damned attracted to him. She’d be better off sending him away, but she needed the help too much to risk losing the only person who’d shown any interest in the position. She’d do what was right. She’d smack her hormones into submission and give Galen the job so she could spend more time with Patrick.

“Where are your things, Galen?”

“Left ‘em in the timber.” He nodded his head toward the tree line he’d emerged from. “Wasn’t for sure if I’d be needing them or not.”

“Oh. Well, if you want to give the job a trial run, I sure could use the help. I don’t think you’ll find things around here overly demanding, but there’s more work than I can handle on my own.”

“I’ll do whatever you need me to do, ma’am—Myka.”

“Have you had dinner?”

His stomach growled loudly in response, and she grinned. Her nerves were settling, and relief at the prospect of finally getting some help settled over her.

“I’ll take that as a no,” she said. “If you want to get your things, there is a small apartment in the back of the barn. It’s not much, but it’s clean and comfortable. There’s a mini fridge, electric burner, and microwave. You have your own bathroom as well. Again, nothing fancy, but it’s functional. I can’t pay much over the free board and meals.”

She frowned. They hadn’t discussed wages. One hundred dollars a week plus room and meals wasn’t much. He’d probably turn tail and run when he found out.

“I’ll do the job for meals and board.”

“I can’t let you do that.”

“Why?” He shrugged.

Yeah. Why? She could use that money for clothes and food and supplies. But her guilty conscience got the better of her.

“The job is room, meals, and one hundred a week.”

“I’ll do it for the meals and board,” he insisted.

“We’ll see,” she said quietly. “Get your things and meet me at the house after you get settled. Dinner is in the Crock-Pot. After we eat, I’ll get you some clean towels, sheets, and blankets.”

He nodded and turned back toward the woods.

“Oh.”

He stopped when she spoke.

“How do you feel about children, Galen?”

“Can’t say I’ve been around many, but I don’t dislike them.”

“That’s another stipulation of the job. You will need to get along with Patrick. He lost his father six months ago, and I don’t want any more drama in his life.”

He nodded and continued for the tree line.

She watched him for a few more seconds, then made her way to the house.

His mate had a child? He hadn’t expected her to be a virgin, but the fact that she had a child made a knot the size of Mount Everest take residence in his gut. The thought of another man touching her, of her bearing another man’s baby, made him a little crazy. He wasn’t a double standard type of guy. What she did and with whom was her choice. He was no innocent by any means, and wasn’t naive enough to believe that a grown woman would wait around for someone she never knew existed.

Galen gritted his teeth. Nothing she’d done in the past—nothing in the future, for that matter—had the power to make him feel differently about her. She was his mate, and any child of hers would be cherished, protected, and loved by him just as she would be.

He snorted. He’d just gotten a lucky break, and all he could do was bitch and moan over the fact that Myka had a life before him. He had a roof over his head, meals, and his mate. He shouldn’t stay. He should get his bag of belongings stashed in the timber and move on. He shouldn’t risk putting Myka or the kid in danger, but how could he possibly pass up a chance like this? Falling into a job he didn’t know existed? How had that not been fate giving him an obvious shove toward his destination, no matter how temporary it might be?

While he wouldn’t be able to stay with her forever like he should be able to—like he already wanted to—he couldn’t deny this was the perfect place to hole up. Rugged terrain and escape into Canada but a breath away. What more could he ask under the given circumstances? Once the other lycans came for him, and eventually they would, he’d lure them away before they found her. He’d never put her in danger because of his selfishness. He may have only just met her, but he’d give his life in a heartbeat to keep her safe. No matter how things ultimately played out, she was his. Forever. He was hers. Forever.