Joy to the Wolves (Red Wolf #1) - Terry Spear Page 0,3
treasure list that would fulfill my destiny. Be back when I find it!
Brooke rushed to pull on her favorite green wool sweater and red-and-green-plaid wool skirt, leggings, and black suede boots. She was wearing a red lace bra and matching panties, making her feel Christmassy all the way to her bare skin—something her mother had always championed. Feel sexy just for yourself. She didn’t need a mate to dress up for.
She was glad she’d taken a shower last night, or she’d be even later this morning. Hurrying to apply makeup, she wished she could just run as a wolf this morning and forget about the shop. She’d been meaning to check out Forest Park in Portland, which was only a few minutes away and one of the largest forested urban parks in America. After moving here, she’d been so busy getting everything ready for her opening that she really hadn’t had the time.
She began making herself a thermos of lavender tea. “You know you could do this at the shop and at least be in the shop panicking,” she told herself. Being a creature of habit, she’d already started heating the water, and she was still brushing out her unruly red hair.
Her store was full to bursting with boxes in the spare bedrooms of the Victorian house-turned-antique-shop. She wished she had said no to taking anything at Gulliver’s estate, but she just couldn’t have said no to Mr. Lee. He’d been too nice, though a little mysterious.
Finding treasure had been in Brooke’s family’s blood; her mother, father, great-aunt, and great-uncle were all treasure hunters. Which meant she was used to her family’s obsession with finding valuable items discarded by those who couldn’t discern the value of the collections. She was more interested in emptying the boxes stored in the rooms, properly sorting through the stuff, and cataloging it for sale. She envisioned emptying all the rooms and getting the place ready to sell—in three years.
Christmas was her favorite holiday, so she always served hot chocolate in addition to cranberry, cinnamon, and plain scones in the morning in the shop and wassail, Christmas tree–decorated chocolates, and caramel apple-cider cookies in the afternoon.
With her hot tea in a thermos in hand, Brooke set the house’s security alarm, then headed for the back door. The courtyard garden connecting the two buildings was now decorated in Christmas ornaments for sale, the beautiful bronze wolf statues, and a fir tree covered in twinkling colored lights.
“Shoot.” She needed to get the boxes out for recycling. And put on gloves and a hat. It was so much colder here at Christmastime than it was in Phoenix. Brrr.
She grabbed a red-plaid scarf and wrapped it around her neck, pulled on a soft, red knit hat, and slipped on some black kid-leather gloves, then opened the back door and stopped dead in her tracks. A young reindeer was standing under the eaves on her porch, head twisting around from where he’d been eating berries off Brooke’s holly hedge, wide, warm-brown eyes staring back at Brooke. A thin leather strap of jingle bells jingled when the reindeer turned and walked over to join her.
“Ohmigod, where did you come from?” Brooke guessed the reindeer was about eight months old since he didn’t have antlers yet, and reindeer calves were usually born in May or June. She’d learned all about them at the Grand Canyon Deer Farm in Williams, Arizona.
She saw that one of the gates to the four-foot-tall, wrought-iron decorative fence was standing open although she was sure she’d locked it last night. The problem was that the latch needed to be replaced, like a lot of things in the old Victorian houses. It had a habit of not staying shut. Even when she locked the gate, if the latch hadn’t caught hold, a little wind could push it open.
Not wanting to scare the calf off but wanting to secure him so she could call someone to come get him, Brooke set her thermos of tea on the wrought-iron café table next to her and calmly talked to the young calf. “Hey, little guy. I’m going to take you into the shop, okay?” Not that Brooke had ever planned to have an animal in her shop, which made her think of a bull in a china shop if the poor little reindeer got scared. But Brooke had to open her shop, and her courtyard wasn’t secure enough, even if she could reach the gate and close it before the reindeer