Desert Yule Read online

  Desert Yule

  A Twin Moon Ranch Short Story

  by

  Anna Lowe

  Desert Yule

  Copyright © 2015 by Anna Lowe

  [email protected]

  Editing by Lisa A. Hollett

  Cover art by Fiona Jayde Media

  www.FionaJaydeMedia.com

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons is purely coincidental.

  Other books in this series

  The Wolves of Twin Moon Ranch

  Desert Hunt (the Prequel)

  Desert Moon (Book 1)

  Desert Wolf: Complete Collection (Four short stories)

  Desert Blood (Book 2)

  Desert Fate (Book 3)

  Desert Heart (Book 4)

  Desert Yule (a short story)

  Desert Rose (Book 5)

  Desert Roots (Book 6)

  Sasquatch Surprise (a Twin Moon spin-off story)

  visit www.annalowebooks.com

  Free books

  Get your free e-books now!

  Sign up for my newsletter at annalowebooks.com to get three free books!

  Desert Wolf: Friend or Foe (Book 1.1 in the Twin Moon Ranch series)

  Off the Charts (the prequel to the Serendipity Adventure series)

  Perfection (the prequel to the Blue Moon Saloon series)

  Contents

  Other books in this series

  Desert Yule

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Sneak Peek: Desert Rose

  Sneak Peek II

  Free books

  Books by Anna Lowe

  More from Anna Lowe

  AnnaLoweBooks.com

  Desert Yule

  The Wolves of Twin Moon Ranch have earned a hard-won break after another eventful year in the dark and dangerous shifter world. In this sweet, sentimental, and sexy Christmas story, you’ll get to see new characters take center stage and relationships evolve. Has the big, bad alpha’s mate finally taught him to delegate? Has the wounded warrior learned to let go of the past? And the leading she-wolf of the clan — how is she getting along in her new life with her once-forbidden mate? While some couples are busy steamings things up with a whole new meaning of “nap time,” others are rapt in promising visions of the future, and even the family grinch doesn’t leave the “merry” out of Christmas this time around.

  Yes, there’s more than meets the eye under the light of a winter moon…

  Note: This story covers all the couples through to Desert Heart. Carly is still a swinging single at the time of this story because it comes before Desert Roots and overlaps with Desert Rose.

  Chapter One

  Before we start... Be sure to sign up for my newsletter – you'll get two free stories right away, and you'll be the first to hear about new releases, special deals, and exclusive bonus content.

  * * *

  Carly tapped her fingers on the armrest and squinted against the first piercing strands of dawn, framed by the oval of the plane window. She heaved an inner sigh. If she were in the cockpit, the flight would take half the time. Hell, she could practically drive faster from Sacramento to Phoenix.

  She grinned a little, imagining herself at the controls. Not only would that make the flight faster, it would be more interesting, too. She’d throw in a couple of barrel rolls, maybe see how quickly she could pull this 737 out of a nose dive…

  But flying like a granny…definitely not her style. The trip from California would have been a hell of a lot more fun on her bike. Her latest bike, that is, because her last Harley had suffered an unfortunate accident. Not that it had been her fault or anything…

  She scratched the scar on her forearm. Nope, not her fault at all.

  A grid pattern of streetlights stretched out below, broken only by dark splotches where untamed hills slumbered amidst the waking city. A stream of red and white lights rushed along the freeways like water in a creek bed—not the torrent it would be at peak times, but a steady flow nevertheless.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, happy holidays and welcome to Phoenix,” the pilot announced. Judging by the voice, it was the cute one who’d chatted her up before takeoff. If her dad weren’t meeting her at the airport, she just might have taken the guy up on his offer of lunch in Phoenix’s fanciest restaurant after the flight. Maybe taken him up on the unspoken offer in his eyes, too.

  On the other hand, that might have set off another battle of testosterone-driven wills, because the copilot had made a move on her, too, along with the big football-player type sitting over in the exit row. And that kind of strife was the last thing she needed on the way to testosterone central, Twin Moon Ranch.

  Carly smiled in spite of herself. She’d always lived in California with her mom, but Arizona felt more like home. Even brief visits to her father and siblings on Twin Moon Ranch had been enough to cement the place firmly in her heart.

  “Merry Christmas!” She waved to the flight crew on her way out.

  The pilot’s eyes telegraphed a last-chance message she pretended not notice. The flight attendant, on the other hand, shot daggers Carly’s way. The usual, in other words. Which wasn’t really fair, because it wasn’t like she tried turning every man’s head everywhere she went. It just happened.

  “Merry Christmas,” the pilot murmured, never letting go of her with his eyes.

  She tossed her hair over her shoulder, tugged down her cowboy hat, and strode down the ramp. One jaunty Christmas tune blended into another on the overhead speakers, and Carly hummed along. Might as well brace herself for the sappy holiday cheer she was in for over the next couple of days. Christmas hadn’t always been a big deal on the ranch, but it was getting to be that way. Her siblings were all happily mated, breeding like rabbits, and loving every minute of it. Even her sister Tina—the last bastion of independent womanhood on Twin Moon Ranch, damn it—had succumbed to the myth called destiny and found herself a mate.

  Well, Carly knew better. She was not falling into that trap. No, sir. Her life was hers and hers alone.

  Her wolf whined a little inside her head. Always alone?

  She walked faster, looking for the baggage carousel. Of course not. There was that sweet logger she’d partied with a month ago, and that hot biker she’d met at the bar…

  At the end of every one-night stand, we’re still alone, her wolf complained.

  Variety, baby. Variety. A little fun and we move on. Safer that way. Imagine getting stuck with one man forever.

  Her wolf went a little dreamy-eyed, imagining just that.

  She shoved the pathetic beast back into her subconscious. That was the thing with being a shifter—she always had to be on guard against the beast within. The instinct to howl at the moon was a good one, but when it came to the desire for a destined mate… Well, Carly liked to curtail that to plain old desire, and that was easy enough to satisfy without a mate.

  When has a man ever truly satisfied us? her wolf whispered, protesting to the end.

  Yeah, well. She’d take quantity over quality if it meant guarding her freedom. She slammed a mental door closed on the subject and turned an imaginary key.

  She tipped back her hat, finger-combed her hair, and winked at the guys checking her out from across the way. Might as well do her part in spreading a little holiday cheer.

  “Yes!” She gave a little whoop of triumph when her bag came down the luggage carousel first. Her lucky st
reak was holding out.

  She grabbed it and headed for the exit, bracing herself with a long, steadying breath. Something she wouldn’t have to do if it were her sister picking her up, or Cody, or even Ty. But her dad was the one picking her up today, which called for not one, not two, but three deep yoga breaths.

  Yep, there he was, tapping his foot, glaring at his watch.

  “Hi, Dad.” She smiled, knowing there’d be none in return.

  “Carly.” He grunted and reached for her bag.

  But Christmas was Christmas, damn it, so she pulled him into a hug. Sniffed the dry aftershave he’d been using for as long as she could remember. Tucked her chin over his shoulder and—

  Wait, was she getting taller or was her dad getting shorter?

  He extracted himself from the hug and turned down the sidewalk. No, How was your trip? No, Tell me what’s new.

  Situation normal, she sighed. All fucked up.

  Well, her dad might not have learned about social graces, but she hadn’t given up on trying to teach him some.

  “How was your trip from Colorado?” she asked as he steered his pickup onto the highway. The pink light of morning lent a soft glow to the saguaro cacti blurring past over a backdrop of pulsing neon lights from fast-food chains and cheap motels.

  Phoenix. A city painted onto the desert, tamed yet untamed.

  Her dad shrugged.

  “How are things at North Ridge?” She tried.

  A grunt.

  She prodded a little more. “You making good progress, getting that pack back on its feet?”

  He sighed.

  Yeah, well. She hadn’t been expecting a full report, but a word or two about the pack her dad had left home to lead would have been nice.

  “No sign of a promising alpha to take over there yet?”

  A snort was his only reply.

  “How’re things on Twin Moon Ranch, then?”

  He pursed his lips, which was Dad-code for good or even great. The ranch was doing damn well under her siblings’ leadership, and that had to make him proud—even if all he revealed was a slightly softened glare.

  Carly sighed and looked at her watch. It was going to be a long drive, especially with her dad barely breaking sixty-five.

  “Are the kids driving you crazy yet?” she asked, keeping up her side of the conversation.

  Her brothers Ty and Cody had two each, and it was only a matter of time before Tina started popping out more rug rats to add to the Hawthorne dynasty.

  Carly waited for her father to scowl, or mutter, or frown.

  She waited half a tick more, then studied his face. Wait, was the right corner of his mouth starting to curl up?

  Must have been the slanting morning light playing tricks on her. Because when she looked again, his expression was firmly back to a scowl, and they drove in silence for another quarter of an hour. The temperature dropped as the highway climbed steadily up a plateau. Up and up and up, looking at a pale blue sky dotted with winter clouds that covered all but the bottom of the purple mountains in the distance. It was a different Arizona up here than down in the central valley. Cooler. Wilder. Meaner, at times. A rancher had to be tough to scratch a living in the highlands. Which was fitting, because the Hawthornes were tough. Rock-hard tough.

  “How’s your mother?” her dad asked so quietly, she almost missed it.

  Wow. Maybe he really was softening with age.

  She flapped a hand at the dusty hills and swallowed away the lump in her throat. What to say? Batty? Weak? As submissive and indecisive as ever a wolf there was?

  “The usual,” she murmured, turning her face so he couldn’t see.

  Once upon a time—or so she’d heard—her mother had been a lot like her: carefree, bold, independent. But three years with the alpha of Twin Moon pack, decades before, had broken her mom. Left her shattered and worn. Old before her time.

  “Brad takes real good care of her,” Carly added.

  Okay, that was a dig at her old man, but he needed to know what he’d reduced the woman to. A woman he’d dumped before their second child—Carly—was even born. Luckily, her mom had had the option of heading back to her home pack in California, where the alpha made sure she got by. She’d even found herself a mate. A pathetically submissive beta of a wolf, but a kind enough stepfather to Carly. In fact, Brad was the one who’d insisted she kept up ties to her old man and siblings with regular visits over the years.

  In the end, Brad always said, family is all you got. Your brothers and sister are important, Carly.

  Even if they drive me nuts? she’d retort.

  But Brad was right. Family was important, just like Twin Moon Ranch was important. Those were her roots. Her blood. Her second home.

  The pickup’s tires rumbled as her father exited the highway on the unmarked dirt road heading to the ranch, and her heart lifted just a little bit. She sniffed eagerly for the scent of home: desert lavender blended with brittlebush, mesquite, and a dash of cliffrose.

  The upper edge of Crow Mesa was dusted with snow, and her wolf couldn’t wait to get out for a run. There was so much space here, so much sky. A cool edge to the dry air, like nowhere else. A wolf could run for hours, unfettered by the fear of discovery. The highlands of central Arizona made a perfect home for a pack of wolves—at least, those hardy enough to tough it out here. No wonder her father had chosen this place to establish a new pack in, a century before.

  The tires hit a choppy high note, rolling over the cattle grid that marked the turnoff to the neighboring ranch.

  “Seymour Ranch,” she murmured. Her sister Tina’s ranch. Wow. She still couldn’t quite get over the twist of fate that had brought her sister a mate and a ranch.

  Carly peeked at her father. His lips were pursed, his expression sour as ever. What did he think of his new son-in-law?

  His lips twitched. He didn’t look happy, but he didn’t look unhappy either. Well, not unhappier than usual.

  “Did you meet Rick yet?” she ventured.

  He grunted and nodded so vehemently, she could feel the air shift. No father gave his daughter up easily, but for her dad to accept a human as his eldest’s mate… That had taken some swallowing, for sure. A small miracle, actually, that her father hadn’t killed the guy, but miracle pretty much hit the nail on the head when it came to Tina and Rick getting their happily-ever-after after so many years.

  Her dad’s knuckles went white as he gripped the wheel harder. On the other hand, he didn’t bare his teeth in the direction of Seymour Ranch, so she’d take that as a good sign.

  The pickup rumbled on, and her eyes tracked the landscape to the south. Somewhere not too far over the hill was the Seymour homestead, where Tina and Rick were probably still in bed, whispering sweet nothings or shagging like bunnies.

  Carly sighed. She had a strict rule against fraternizing with any of the males on her father’s ranch, which meant she sure wasn’t going to get any in the coming week. Too bad, because Twin Moon had more than its fair share of hot cowboys who knew how to show a girl a good time.

  Look on the bright side, her sister would say. We’ve got the best eye candy in the West.

  Great. Carly grumbled in time with her inner wolf. Eye candy. Ho, ho, ho.

  Chapter Two

  “Ho, ho, ho!”

  “Ho, ho, ho,” Tina echoed as Rick dropped into her arms. She stroked his chest, just left of a jagged scar. “Nice way to wake up on the morning of Christmas Eve.” As in, skin-to-skin with her mate, glowing from the high they’d just hit.

  Rick grinned. “Nice way to wake up every morning.”

  She was about to agree, but he caught her in one of those thank-you kisses that could go on for hours. Thanks for the sex, thanks for my new life. Thanks for being mine.

  Mine, his wolf growled. She could hear it in her mind, feel the proud rumble in his chest. Mate.

  For the thousandth time in three months, she closed her eyes. How did she ever get so lucky?

  “You
deserve lucky,” Rick murmured as he peppered kisses down her neck then settled in across her chest.

  Amazing how one hundred and eighty pounds of muscle could feel so light, so snuggly.

  Snuggly? his inner wolf protested.

  There he went, reading her mind again.

  “Yes, snuggly.” She laughed and stroked his back, reminding herself that the scars from the hellhound fight were proof of his bravery and of survival. Her fingers ran over his body and eventually came to rest on the most important scar of all. The tiny scar from her mating bite.

  Mate. Her mate, forever.

  One thick thumb rubbed her arm in circles and she hummed. Every morning waking up with Rick felt like Christmas. Paradise. Heaven on earth.

  Mine. Mate, her wolf hummed dreamily.

  The next time her eyes fluttered open, light wasn’t just slanting in through the huge triangle of glass on the western side of the apartment, but filling up the airy space. The mattress under her hand was warm and the scent of coffee filled the air.

  Rick came into focus, walking toward her with two steaming mugs in his hands. He settled down carefully next to her, making the mattress dip.

  “Oh, that smells good,” she mumbled. The coffee and the man.

  “Café con leche. Just like my dad used to make.”

  They both smiled, and that felt good, too—the ability to remember a loved one with more joy than sorrow. Another wound healed, or at least healing.

  She pushed up on one elbow and took a sip of coffee. “Mmm. Perfect.”

  “Perfect,” Rick murmured, focusing on her, not the drink. One broad hand stroked her hair. “Perfect.”

  And it was—ridiculously perfect. She had the love of her life. She had the future she’d almost given up dreaming of.