“The attempted murder of this town’s upstanding marshal.”
“Are you denyin’ it?”
“I think your story is shoddy. The night Frank and I went to the den, we went there to collect my personal belongings. You meant to kill us and—”
“And the job would’ve been done if that bitch of yours—”
Jock yowled in anger. His incisors jabbed through his gums and it was all he could do to keep from attacking Grant.
“You can show me those damn teeth of yourn all ya want. Ya don’t scare me, Jock.”
“I guess not,” Jock said, narrowing his gaze. “But you ought to be afraid, Grant. According to what I read on the posters, rewards would be given to anyone with information on a shifter’s whereabouts. That includes you though, doesn’t it, Marshal?”
Grant snarled. “No, it does not.”
Understanding Grant wouldn’t shift with a witness present, Jock shook off his fury. Cocking his head, he wagged his finger at Grant. “You only get one warning. If you say anything off-color about my mate again, I will not only put you in the ground, but I’ll also make you dig that grave before I shoot you in the back.”
Grant laughed. “Ya got that part right. There’s no doubt about it. If you’re gonna shoot me, you’re gonna put that bullet in my back. Ya ain’t got the balls to face me if ya take my life.”
“If I were you, I wouldn’t test that bet.”
Grant sighed and stretched. “I’m plumb bored, Jock. I’ve had a busy mornin’ and I’m jest tuckered out. If the two of ya ain’t gonna need a marshal, and I suspect ya don’t, I’d like it very much if you’d just skedaddle.” Grant focused on Daisy. “I’m gonna say Jock here didn’t understand Frank’s plan for me. You’d best be runnin’ on along, Daisy.” His eyes never averted, but before she made it outside, Grant called out to her, “If you’re smart, you’ll keep right on movin’. I will get my money back or I’ll work it off ya. If it’s the latter, ya can bet that sweet ass of yours, I won’t be interested in your body the next go around. I’ll put that cock-holster of yours to real good use.”
“Damn it, Grant!” Jock charged him like a raging bull. He grabbed him by his collar and slung him to his desk. Pinning him to the surface, he pressed his forearm against Grant’s neck. Applying pressure, he snarled. “We were like brothers! You and me go way back, and won’t you just look at the two of us now! You’re talkin’ to women like they’re dirt and I’m standing here wondering why my best friend put a bounty on my head!”
“The bounty is there because it deserves to be,” Grant grated out. “And I’m pretty pleased with myself. Thank ya very much.” He clucked. “There ain’t gonna be a wedding, I take it? What happened out in WolfDen? Did the minister get detained?”
“That marriage was Frank’s plan. Not mine.”
“I figured as much.” Grant snorted. “Ya ain’t even the man of your own home now, Jock. Frank Smith has ya by the balls, boy, and ya think you’re sharin’ Carla because ya both imprinted on her. Hell, we see who ran out the door when there was trouble in WolfDen. My best guestimation is—”
“Estimation,” Jock corrected him, easing the tension on Grant’s arm.
“You’re in my town now,” Grant said, shoving Jock away from him. “Here, we say guestimation. Yep, siree. We say and do anything we damn well please. Can ya say the same?”
Jock snarled. He knew the moment was coming when Grant would go for his weapons, so he turned his pistol on him with a steady aim. Then, he collected Grant’s rifle and picked up his holster on his way to the door.
Grant was right about one thing. He wasn’t going to die there today. If Grant happened to die, his killer wouldn’t wear Jock’s face or carry his name.
“So now you’re stealing from me, too?” Grant asked, following Jock to the front stoop.
“No.” He secured the rifle behind the saddle bag and mounted his horse. “I’m making sure you don’t put one in my back as I’m riding out of town. I’ll drop your guns on the outskirts of Laramie. You can pick them up there.”
Jock secured a tight grip on his horse’s reins. He shifted his weight in his familiar saddle and looked down on a complete stranger.
“All you had to do was open your mind and willingly accept change. When Frank and I imprinted on Carla, our packs were joined. There wasn’t a thing we could’ve done about that, even if we’d wanted to. We didn’t ask you to join us in bed.”
Grant smirked. “From what I remember of your woman, she ain’t too fond of the bed anyhow. It was that loft of hers that I wanted to visit.”
“So this was always about Carla.” It wasn’t a question. “Was it ever about the two packs joining or was that just one of many lies?”
Grant hung his head. When he lifted his gaze, he said, “I was at your flank. Me, Jock. From the time we were kids, it was always just us. No, none of this shit was ever about Carla. It was always about you.”
“I didn’t abandon my pack, or you, Grant. I as
ked you to accept change so we could all work together to make the Wyoming territory a safer place for our mates and our future children. If you think back to the night in our den, you’d know I didn’t go there to kill you. I went back for my personal belongings. You’re the one who dropped a net over Frank and me. You were planning to set fire to us. If you ask me, Carla did what any other mate would’ve done. She protected her family.”
A deep-seated sadness overcame Jock as he recalled the night Carla pumped a few bullets into Grant. Shaking off those old unsettling emotions, he added, “We were like brothers, family. You knew me then and you know me now. I wouldn’t turn my back on my pack, Grant. You made that decision. You walked away from men and women who thought of you as a brother.”