“Good. I already talked to Ian about the schedule changes, and you’re in charge of the detail. Shelley’s uncles Ethan and Jasper will accompany you. Their brother, Teague, is busy with the cattle.”

Guthrie frowned at Duncan. He was going to say he would have to check his schedule. Wolf packs typically homeschooled kids of their kind, and a large pack like the MacNeills’ was no different. Their method of homeschooling was having the individuals with the most knowledge of a subject provide training for the kids in that area of expertise. The lupus garou children didn’t usually attend a human-run public or private school—too much of a risk if a child became angry, lost his head, and showed off his fully wolfish side.

Guthrie was responsible for the math curriculum, and sometimes he tutored students at night. He was giving a couple of final classes this week before they took Christmas break, but he didn’t think he had any night sessions scheduled.

But why did Duncan know about this outing before Guthrie? A pecking order existed among the brothers. He was older than Duncan by five minutes. He should have been told first.

He glanced over at Calla, who was laughing at something Oran said. She was so animated, always cheerful. Although, when they’d found her in the woods trying to hold her own against Baird and his kin, he’d smelled a mixture of anxiousness and anger rolling off her in waves for the first time since he’d known her. She probably had smelled the same on him. He couldn’t help but admire how she’d stood her ground.

Yet, wasn’t that the way Tenell had acted? Like she wanted nothing further to do with her old boyfriend—and then the next thing Guthrie knew, he was no longer courting a she-wolf.

When Tenell had broken up with her ex-boyfriend a second time, Guthrie had stayed clear of her, despite her calling to make it up to him. She was still trying to reach him through his kin, which amused them. No one had any intention of encouraging him to go back to her.

Calla’s pretty strawberry blond hair curled about her shoulders, looking as soft as her blue sweater. Her green eyes suddenly glanced in his direction as if her wolf half had realized someone was watching her. He would not look away. It was an alpha lupus garou’s way of showing interest. Because he was interested. She smiled at him, and then Oran glanced his way.

Guthrie bowed his head a little to her, and only then did he look away. Was she like Tenell? Emotionally and physically feeling a void that she needed filled with another man—and any wolf would do?

He let out his breath. There wasn’t any way he wanted to go through that again. Especially not if she went back to Baird.

***

Calla was so glad the MacNeills had come to help her out with Baird and his pack mates. She did not really want to be “guarded” anytime she left Argent Castle, but otherwise she was looking forward to seeing what pack life was like here. She loved how everyone was a wolf. That meant she didn’t have to guard against saying anything pertaining to wolves that only her own kind could understand.

She glanced again at Guthrie as he talked to Duncan. Even though he was the financial advisor for the pack, he was in as good shape for fighting as the rest of his brothers. His green eyes were lighter than hers, his reddish hair more brown. His coloration appealed to her. Being a redhead herself, redheads often caught her eye. To her chagrin, Duncan turned to see her observing Guthrie. Duncan winked, the devil, and that had Guthrie turning to see who he’d winked at.

She quickly cut up another slice of pork. That would teach her to ogle Guthrie while others were watching. She sighed. After what she’d done at the hen party—when she’d been perfectly innocent—she supposed everyone would watch the two of them while she was staying here. It was like olden times when courtiers gossiped about trysts between other members of the court. Especially since she was someone new to gossip about.

Oran was regaling her with all his fishing mishaps with Guthrie and Duncan when they were lads. He finished his pork and said to her, “Once, Guthrie got so excited about catching his first trout that he tipped the boat and we all ended up in the icy river. Duncan was ready to punch him. But in a good-hearted way. We had a devil of a time catching up with the boat. That was the end of that fishing trip.”

She hadn’t asked Oran to share everything about his life, although she did find it entertaining. But if Oran was interested in her, why did he say so much about Guthrie in all the humorous incidents he brought up? Surely, Oran could have shared stories that didn’t include him.

“So then there was this time that we decided to reach the tree in the center of the pastureland, where one of our bulls was penned.”

“Nay,” she said, tilting her chin down, not believing the lads could have been that reckless.

“Aye. You know, lass, if we didn’t have a clan battle to win, we had to do something with our time.”

“Cearnach didn’t go with you, did he?”

“Aye, he did. Ian didn’t. He was always running things at the castle, even when he was sixteen. Guthrie said it would be a good way to keep up our physical training. And we were all for it.”

“Guthrie did?” She thought that if Cearnach had gone with them, it had been his idea, since he was always in charge when Ian wasn’t around.

“Aye, lass. Don’t believe for a minute that all Guthrie does is calculate profits and expenses. He’s a wild wolf, that one.”

She smiled at that. He always seemed the quietest of the brothers. Maybe he’d had his wild fun in his youth, learned a thing or two from his experiences, and changed his ways. She wondered what he’d think if he knew Oran was telling all about him. She was glad she had no one here to tell on her.

***

Early the next morning, Ian and his kin still weren’t able to move Calla’s car because of the snowdrift. Calla just hoped that Baird and his men couldn’t move her car, either.

The fir trees were still covered in the soft, wet flakes, and the rising sun peered through the white clouds, coloring everything soft shades of yellow and pink. Calla was invited to join the fun of a snowman-building contest before the snow melted too much.

Bundled in coats, scarves, hats, and gloves, pack kids and adults alike were busy building snowmen in the parklike setting beyond the castle walls. Some of their Irish wolfhounds were playing in the snow too, biting at it, rolling in it, and acting as though they’d never seen the stuff before.