Marie Harte - Rachel's Totem

Rachel listened, curious and caught by Gerald’s rhythmic words. She had a feeling the story was important, but couldn’t have said why. When he’d mentioned the Totem Festival, her entire body tensed on alert. Like everything else that had happened to her since stepping foot in Cougar Falls, this made no sense either.

Instead of dwelling on it, she said to hell with worry and latched onto his story. “So the root of this festival isn’t the Salish, but the people they ran into.”

“Right, the Shifters.” Gerald flashed her a smile and turned down another dirt road, taking them deeper into the mountains. “The Salish called them Ac-taw, which in the Shifters’ language meant animal souls. According to legend, the Ac-taw could transform into the beasts that dwelt within their souls.”

“What, like werewolves and cat people?” Funny, she’d heard the same tales from Aunt Charlotte growing up. But her aunt had never given the Shifters a name. She’d just laughed and teased Rachel with fanciful stories.

“I guess you could call them that. But the Indians believed more in a transmutation of souls into living form. Not so much monsters as people who could live as either animal or human, a beautiful combination of both spirits in one flesh.” Gerald’s words took on a dreamy tone, and Rachel had to force herself to recall he was telling a story and not some personal history.

“So where does this totem come in?”

“The Ac-taw supposedly worshipped a living stalk of wood that brought good health, long life and protection to those under its spell. And that living stalk of wood is the totem we celebrate on festival days.”

“Days?”

“Four times a year the town celebrates the Totem Festival. It’s fun, a way of ushering in the seasons. We have a carnival of sorts, nothing weird. The kids have a blast, and it’s an excuse for the town’s citizens to get together and have a big party.

“The totem’s a beautiful antique, a large timber maybe twenty feet high and three feet wide. Animal carvings painted in rich, vibrant color decorate the thing. You can almost believe the legends about the Ac-taw having imbued the wood with their power. It feels incredibly alive. Once you’ve seen it, you’ll understand what I mean.”

“Wow. I’d like to see this thing. A magical totem pole and Shifters, huh? Cougar Falls has an entertaining history, I’ll give you that.”

Gerald grinned. “As do our inhabitants. You’ve met a few this morning, I gather.”

Apparently, news traveled fast in a town this size. She wasn’t surprised. “Yeah. I walked into the Fox’s Henhouse ready for a big plate of pancakes only to hear Burke Chastell growling at some woman to keep her hands off. God’s gift to women,” she muttered, realizing how much she’d liked Burke’s hands on her and wishing she didn’t.

“Well, don’t judge Burke too harshly concerning Sarah.” Gerald continued to maneuver through a cropping of woods, confusing Rachel with the many twists and turns onto expansive dirt roads that looked no better than well-worn trails. “Sarah Duncan is not what you’d call a one-man woman.”

“So it’s okay to treat her like crap because she likes men?” Gerald wasn’t looking so charming now.

“No, no.” He frowned at her before turning his attention back to the road. “Sarah’s a wonderful woman, though she’s not really selective about who she sleeps with. But that’s her business and no one else’s. My point is, she’s been all over Burke for years. No matter how many times, and nicely I might add, he’s said no, she just won’t leave him alone. And I don’t know if you noticed, but he doesn’t like to be touched.”

That she hadn’t noticed—at all. But maybe his reaction to Sarah had been justified, if what Gerald said was the truth. Which still didn’t excuse Burke from screwing around with her to get at Charlotte’s property.

“What about Burke? What’s his deal?” She clenched her jaw at Gerald’s knowing look. “I just want to know about my aunt’s neighbor, that’s all. She never mentioned him and I find that curious.”

“Did she tell you a lot about us, about the town I mean?”

“Not really.” The more Rachel thought about that, the more her aunt’s omission struck her. “She used to tell me stories about what you called Ac-taw, or Shifters.

Interesting fantasy, and it made our visits a lot of fun. I didn’t see her all that much, but we kept in touch through other means.”

Gerald nodded and pulled into a sudden grassy flatland surrounded by mountains and a stretch of valley. “She was a friendly woman. Charlotte never had a bad word to say about anyone, at least not to me. Now she liked things done her way, but she was extremely giving. She’d loan you the shoes off her feet if you needed them.” He cleared his throat and gave her a side glance. “Charlotte got on well with the Chastells, despite their contrary natures. And they loved your aunt. Burke and his brothers were always helping her with one thing or another.”

“Really?” To ingratiate themselves with the old woman so she’d sell them her property?

Gerald chuckled. “Such suspicion in those pretty eyes. Really, Rachel, Charlotte loved those ‘lost boys,’ as she liked to call them. Yes, Burke and his brothers want the land back that once belonged to them, but they never pressured Charlotte to sell. She told me that Burke had asked once, and only once. She said no, and he accepted her decision.

He still put new shingles on her roof when the old ones wore down. And Grady and Dean still mow her lawn and help with odds and ends when she needs, ah, needed it.”

“Grady and Dean?”

“Burke’s brothers. The Chastells are three confirmed bachelors living on a large spread out here. Catamount Ranch isn’t that big by ranch standards, a few hundred acres at most. And much of their land is hilly, being so near the mountains. But it’s pure and clear. And it’s theirs.”

Like this place is now mine. Rachel rolled down her window as they pulled onto a long drive. Over a small hill a two-story, cream-colored house came into view. Warmth settled in her belly, the possibility of a new beginning taking root. Any unpleasant feeling vanished as she caught sight of her new home.

And then Burke arrived in his pick-up, kicking up dust, and shattered her peace.

Burke slammed the door to his truck and ignored Rachel, scanning the surrounding forest for the uninvited signs of life he’d sensed as soon as he’d stopped the truck and took a sniff. Someone was out there, but he couldn’t determine friend or foe. Too many other scents clouded the wind, though once again, Rachel’s wasn’t one of them. No womanly smell, no sexual need, nothing.

“Burke?”

“Why don’t you show Rachel the house, Gerald? I just remembered something I forgot to take care of the last time I was here.”

Gerald shot a sharp look at the woods directly beyond Burke and nodded, his nose twitching. “Good idea. Come on, Rachel. Let me show you the box Charlotte left for you.

It’s inside.”

Rachel glanced from Gerald to Burke and nodded. To Burke’s relief, she filed inside the house without a murmur of protest. His skin itching to make the change and investigate his source of unease, he walked quickly into the treeline a few hundred feet from the house and began shedding his clothing. In less than a minute, he’d stashed his clothes behind a massive boulder and shifted into his inner beast—a large mountain lion.

Breathing deep, he closed his eyes to focus, and headed west. A short distance from his starting point he saw an equally large catamount facing off against a trio of gray wolves. Didn’t those bastards ever travel anywhere solo?