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River of Dreams:
TO TAME A WEREWOLF
By
Myra Nour
© copyright April 2006, Myra Nour
Cover art by Dan Skinner, © copyright March 2006
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.
Chapter One
The workshop had been interesting, as well as the drive through the lovely West Virginia mountains, but the hours she spent with Connor had been even more fascinating. Angela was frustrated with herself. She had hoped the trip would dispel the last vestiges of attraction she felt for her co-worker, instead it had done nothing but fuel it.
The next evening they left the workshop at 3 p.m. They would get back late, but since it was Friday, she could sleep in tomorrow. Angela didn’t like the way the sky had looked all day, and kept commenting on the clouds as she peered through the windshield. Connor’s expression was stolid and he had no comments to add to her weather concerns.
They hadn’t driven more than thirty minutes before the first flakes hit. At first it was pretty, fluttering down and melting immediately on the glass. In moments, the flurries turned into a maelstrom of flakes that seemed to fight in order to pelt the car.
Connor slowed down and Angela became nervous. The road and landscape were turning white quickly. “I’m going to find a local station.” She fiddled with the radio, locating a station that was discussing the weather.
“Officials urge all residents to stay indoors and anyone traveling to seek shelter.”
She sat stunned and noticed Connor’s hands tighten on the wheel. Not only was a blizzard developing, but they were headed right into it.
Angela sighed. “I’ll start looking for a hotel sign.”
When Connor didn’t answer, she stared at him. His body was rigid. “You don’t think we should stop?”
“No.”
His word was clipped, as if he was reluctant to answer.
“Maybe it’s not as bad as it sounds.”
She was annoyed. Why was he being so stubborn? Perhaps he was right, but it was doubtful. She chose to stay silent and see what happened.
By the end of another thirty minutes, her nerves were frayed. They were crawling along, the wipers going furiously when the wheels slid for the second time. Connor turned the wheel toward the slide, gaining control, and Angela let out the breath she’d been holding.
How many times could his skill save them from landing in a snow-covered ditch? She was becoming more anxious as the minutes ticked by. The car skidded around a curve, and then she spied a brightly colored sign through the mad melee of flakes. If it hadn’t been so large, she wouldn’t have seen it.
“There’s a lodge at the next exit.” Silence. “Did you hear me?”
“I heard.”
The car spun sideways, skidding toward the roadside, but Connor managed to keep it from hitting the rock wall.
“Okay, we’ll stop,” he growled.
Great. Foul weather and now a companion with a mood to match. Angela switched her attention to the road. Even getting up the exit was nerve racking, then another mile before they found the entrance to the lodge. She bit her bottom lip when she spotted the steep hill leading upward. The wheels spun, Connor gunned the motor, and somehow they made it to the top.
Connor stepped carefully around the car and took her arm, helping her up the slippery walkway. The lodge was a huge log building and a welcome sight. Once inside, Angela’s shoulders relaxed and she shivered in the enveloping warmth. A fireplace took up almost all the far wall, and a crackling fire heated the lobby. The room was furnished in brown leather furniture with rustic wood accessories. Charming. Directly in front of them was a pleasant-faced old man behind a counter.
“Glad you folks made it safe.”
“Please tell me you have rooms?” Angela smiled.
“You’re in luck. I have one cabin.” The man adjusted his glasses and peered at the register. “That wouldn’t have been available if the couple hadn’t cancelled.”
“We’ll need two rooms.” Connor pointed to her and then himself. “We’re not together.”
The man took off his glasses. “Sorry, that’s all I have. But I’ll give it to you at a special rate.”
“Two beds will work.” Angela leaned on the counter. She thought the price the man quoted was great.
“Does it have two separate bedrooms?” Connor’s tone was edgy.
She flashed him a frustrated look. Was he that scared of being alone with her?
“Nope.” The clerk shook his head. “One double bed, but the couch does make out into a bed.”
“Great, we’ll take it.”
“Wait,” Connor interrupted. “Are there any other motels nearby?”
“Five miles ... but the roads have been closed. Just heard it on the radio.”
Angela pulled out her credit card and slapped it down. Connor took out his wallet and handed her cash.
“Half the room.” His face was expressionless, but his eyes flashed with concern.
Angela stuck the money in her purse.
“Do you have luggage?” The man glanced down at their feet.
Connor turned without a word and left. A few minutes later he returned, his coat covered with snow, a bag in each hand.
The man handed her a key. “Go left. Your cabin is the last one, number seven.” He looked at Angela’s open coat. “Better bundle up, it’s about a quarter of a mile.”
Connor glanced at her and she stared back. Shrugging, she buttoned the coat and took her small suitcase from him.
As they left the man called after them, “It’s the honeymoon cottage, so it’s far away from the others.”
“That’s good.”
She frowned, puzzled. Why did Connor think an isolated cabin was good when he hadn’t even wanted it in the first place?
Angela stopped in the doorway. “Is there a restaurant in the lodge?”
“None of the employees could make it in, but I keep the pantry stocked during the winter in case of storms.”
She nodded and followed Connor. Her feet sank in a two-foot snowdrift before they made it to the road, where it was shallower. By the time they reached the cottage, she was frozen. Angela glanced back at the last cottage they’d passed; it was barely visible.
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