The Snow Leopard's Home (Glacier Leopards 3)

Zach squeezed her hand. "Okay?"

“Okay,” Teri said firmly. She opened her door. "Let's go."

At the front door, she hesitated, and then rang the doorbell. She didn't live here anymore and she wanted that to be clear.

Her mother opened the door, and stared. "What are you doing ringing the doorbell? Where have you been? And who's this? Were you with him all night?"

Teri said, "This is Zach. He's my—" she hesitated. Boyfriend didn't sound right, but mate wasn't a word her mother would really understand, and husband wasn't quite accurate. Yet. "—fiancé," she tried, and then glanced back at Zach to see how he felt about that.

He gave her a furtive smile. "Where's my ring?" he murmured. "And why aren't you down on one knee?"

Teri stifled a giggle and turned back to her mother. "We're engaged.”

"You're what?" Her mother grabbed her arm and yanked her inside. Zach followed quickly and shut the door behind him.

"Let go of her," he said flatly.

Her mother stared at him, but when Teri jerked her arm away, she let go out of reflex.

Teri took a step back until she could feel Zach as a warm presence at her back and said, "We're here to get my things. I'm moving out."

"And in with him?" Her mother stared at Zach.

"That's right." Teri kept her voice as neutral as she could.

"No. I forbid it. You are not moving in with a man you just met. A man who isn't even human!" Her mother's voice rose to a shriek on the last word.

"Mom?" Lillian came down the stairs. "What's—oh." She stopped short, eyes fixed on Zach.

"This is Zach," Teri told her. "He's helping me move out."

"But you can't," Lillian said, as though it was automatic. She was still staring at Zach. "It's not safe."

"I can decide what's safe and what isn't." Teri walked past her mother and into the little den where she'd been sleeping. Zach followed her, and stopped short when they were in the doorway.

"This is where you live?" he asked her, in a quiet, disbelieving voice. "This is it?"

Teri looked around the room, trying to see it with new eyes. Her bed had been crammed in around the existing couch, chair, and entertainment center, and her clothes were folded in boxes instead of in a dresser, because there wasn’t room. Her weights and equipment for physical therapy were stacked neatly into a corner along with a few books.

“It’s been fine.” It came out sounding weak, and she cleared her throat and continued, “They didn’t want me moving back upstairs to my old room until they thought I was well enough to manage stairs.”

Zach turned to look at her. “But you could manage stairs even when I met you.” Before you changed, he meant. “You went hiking in the Park by yourself!”

“And freaked everyone out,” Teri reminded him. “Anyway, I have some more things in storage—furniture and so on—but most of the stuff I really need is here. I have a suitcase, there in the closet.” She went to get it.

Her mother appeared behind her; she’d been having a viciously low-voiced conversation with Lillian. “Teri,” she said. Her voice was soft and conciliating. “You can’t move out. You have to understand that. You’re not well.”

“I am well.” Teri dragged her suitcase down the hall from the closet to the den.

“You’re not even thinking about anyone else. How do you think we’d feel if we let you leave and then you fell or had an accident that we could’ve prevented if you were here?” Her mother’s voice was rising in volume a little, but still had a coaxing tone to it.

Teri set the suitcase inside the den—Zach picked it up and went over to start transferring her clothes into it—and turned to face her mother. “How do you think I’ve felt the last few weeks? I’m better! I can walk! I am an adult and I can go places on my own! But you talk down to me, you act as if I’m not capable of making decisions for myself, you don’t let me go anywhere and you yell at me if I try. You’ve tried to make me a child again, and I’m not allowing it any longer.”

“How dare you speak to me that way.” Her mother was righteously furious now. “How dare you accuse me of doing anything but trying to help you? You almost died. You had to recover for months. I nursed you, I took care of you, I gave you money—”

“I will pay you back.” Teri kept her voice flat. “Thank you for taking care of me. I’m grateful and I appreciate it. But that doesn’t give you the right to dictate my life and my choices.”

“Obviously I need to, if you’re accepting a marriage proposal from a man you just met two days ago!” Her mother took a step forward. “Who is this man? What’s he done to you? Are you in trouble, Teri? I’ll call the police—”