Joy to the Wolves (Red Wolf #1) - Terry Spear Page 0,132
held and that’s why they were here? She knew they weren’t here to apologize for Patrick killing Timothy. Patrick had felt perfectly justified, and truthfully, he had been.
The MacQuarrie pack leaders were keeping quiet about the film location for now, except they’d told Heather’s pack leaders because they needed some of the MacNeill clan to sign up as extras. Heather knew because she was going to be in charge of the MacNeill female extras during the filming. She hoped the McKinley wolf pack would leave the pie shop out of their quarrels. The Kilpatricks—members of that pack—had been passive-aggressive of late with both the MacQuarries and MacNeills at pubs or wherever they chanced to meet. It was sure to escalate once the word reached the world where the film production would actually be shot.
She had her cell phone out, just in case she needed to text her pack leaders for some Highland wolf muscle. The shop was busy and she couldn’t afford a disruption.
The aroma of fresh bread baking, of hearty beef stew bubbling in a cooker, and of sweet pastries filled the air as Lana brought out another loaf of Scottish soda bread from the oven. In full view of the customers, Lana made buttermilk bread and soda bread in a brick oven, just like in the old days. Originating in Scotland, the bannock bread made of oatmeal dough was cooked in a skillet, so they were making it in their kitchen. The ladies working in the shop were all wearing long dresses with narrow sleeves, long tartan overskirts, boots, and wimples for an old-world charm. Lana’s kilt was the Cameron tartan of red, green, and blue, while Heather’s was the blue and green tartan of the MacNeill clan.
Heather’s pack leaders—gray wolf cousin Ian MacNeill and his red wolf mate, Julia—had assisted Heather in establishing the shop a year ago to help some of their wolves remain gainfully employed and Heather achieve her dream. Julia had loved the idea of Heather sharing the clan’s old-time recipes with the world. Julia was American with Scottish roots and had fallen in love with all things Scottish when she joined them a couple of years back. Since the wolves lived such long lives, aging a year for every thirty, many of them had been around for a very long time. Heather was always cooking for Ian and his brothers so she had wanted to own a shop like this to share the old-world charm of the recipes she’d personally prepared. She just hadn’t had the means to do it on her own without the pack leaders’ assistance.
Heather manned the cash register as a man and his wife paid for two venison and cranberry pies.
The woman said, “We’ve been wanting to come here since the shop opened. It’s so fun and best of all, the food is great. I love your costumes too.”
Heather smiled. “Thanks, I’m so glad you enjoyed the visit.”
Agreeing with his wife, the man nodded to her and carried out the pies as the couple left.
No one could accuse her staff of wearing costumes that weren’t true to the period. Though about that time, some of the women were casting their wimples aside.
Ironically, many of the clansmen who cooked and served in the shop had sworn they never wanted to work under medieval conditions again, but those who did make the food and helped run the shop had gotten a kick out of the nostalgia. Conditions were much harder back then. Now they had modern ovens and stoves and fridges in the back to keep up with the growing business, and, of course, fresh running water instead of having to carry the water from a well like they did in the old days.
She glanced outside and noticed a family taking seats at one of the tables before they came in to order, perfect for nice weather like today—sunny, warm, breezy.
Everything was going fine, busy as usual, when the two men of the enemy wolf clan finally walked into the shop, making her feel as if they were turning her sunny day into something dark and dangerous. The brothers glanced around at the customers eating and visiting there. Were they checking to see if any of the men of her clan were there, ready to stop them in whatever they were up to?
The lupus garous attempted to look nice and easygoing, when she knew they were anything but. Their clan had been fighting with her people through the ages. They’d been