Chapter 1

Thick flakes fell from a silver sky,muffling the sound of the horses’hooves as they picked out a path down the packed dirt road that led into town.Their tack jangled with each step,and in the back of the clapboard cart they pulled,an axe and shovel rattled together like distant thunder.In the cart’s jump seat,Brance Brenneman held the reins in one hand,an almost negligent gesture,and kept the other on the seat as if to hold himself in place.To his right,his young lover Caleb Chilson clutched a rifle laid across his lap.With every other step the horses took,the back of his left hand brushed the inside of Brance’s right wrist.

The town they entered was a handful of log buildings shuttered against the cold.A few homes ringed the outskirts,haphazardly placed off the riding path as if scattered by the wind,and though he saw no one,Brance caught the occasional flicker of candlelight through warped boards nailed over windows.As they approached the town’s small center,he slowed the horses to a walk,his gaze darting around,but the snow had sent everyone inside.This far northwest,the winter came on fast,and Brance kept his collar turned up to hold back the wind.Caleb’s hands were red from the weather,and he’d spent most of the ride hunkered down in Brance’s shadow,letting his lover bear the brunt of the storm.

In front of the town’s general store,Brance pulled the horses to a halt.He jumped off the cart and turned,intending to toss the reins to Caleb,only to find his lover clambering down,as well.“Stay here,”Brance told him.

But Caleb shook his head.A gust of wind threatened to relieve him of the felt slouch hat he wore,and he clamped it down over his bushy blonde hair with one hand,the rifle still in the other.“It’s cold out here,”he said,skirting around the back of the cart to join Brance.“I want to go in with you.”

Brance busied himself with tying the reins to the hitching post.He knew the argument was lost—Caleb alwaysgot his way,the kid didn’t know how damn spoiled he was—but Brance still pointed out,“I’ll only be a minute.”

“And I’ll be a minute warmer,”Caleb sighed as he leaned against Brance’sback.

The touch was sudden and unexpected,out here in the open where anyone could see them.A thin arm came up around Brance’s waist,and icy fingers tickled between the buttons of his old Union shirt,burrowing into the fuzzy tufts curled along Brance’s belly.Caleb nosed through the hair on Brance’s nape to plant a quick kiss there,then breathed into his lover’s ear,“You warm me up.”

With a wild look around,Brance shook Caleb off.“Not here,”he warned.

Caleb drew back.“No one’s watching,”he said,a slight pout in his voice.“They’re all in’cause it’s damn cold out here.Why we ain’t inside yet—”

“Listen to me,”Brance told him.

As usual,his quiet words silenced Caleb immediately.Or maybe it was the forefinger strummed down the back of Caleb’s hand,leaving a swath of warmthin its wake.Whatever the reason,Caleb’s mouth clamped shut and he waited,obedient,for Brance to speak.

Allowing himself a small smile,Brance tugged at the front of his lover’s thin jacket to close it.“Don’t say anything inside,”he cautioned.He raised his gaze to meet Caleb’s,whose amber eyes mirrored Brance’s own.“Let me do the talking.”

“You hardly ever say anything,”Caleb said,snickering.

Brance pressed the palm of his hand flat against Caleb’s stomach,quieting him.“Exactly.Just hold your tongue.We’ll be home soon enough.”

The moment Brance moved away,Caleb started,“Why—”

“You still sound Southern,”Brance told him.

Caleb’s mouth shut again,with an audible click this time.Brance didn’t have to mention the war that raged between the states,a war in which they had once fought,facing off on opposing sides.A war they’d left behind when each had found the other.For all their time together,Brance couldn’t forget the fact that here,in the backwoods of Pennsylvania,Caleb was still seen as the enemy.Add in the relationship the men shared,the love they harbored for each other,as well as the curse that stripped them of their humanity when the moon was full,and Brance thought Caleb’s origins were theleast of their problems.

But why flaunt it?Better to remain silent,and keep apart in public,and hopeno one ever ventured out to their little plot of land when they were in the fur.

With an ignoble pout,Caleb followed Brance up the wooden steps to the store’s porch,so close behind him that Brance could feel his lover’s breath flutter the hair that peeked from beneath his own hat.He ran a hand over the back of his neck as if swatting away a pesky insect;in response,Caleb pursed his lips and blew gently.Brance slapped him away.“Stop.”

He didn’t have to turn to know his lover only pouted harder;he could feel Caleb’s ire radiate from him like heat from a stove.Not for the first time,Brance wished it were night and the two of them changed.Life was much simplerthen,and they communicated better as bobcats than they ever would as humans.He knew Caleb needed attention,and Brance wanted nothing more than to stop the world to pamper him,but at the moment they stood in inclement weather outside a general store whose proprietor probably spied upon their every move.He couldn’t take the man behind him in his arms,or kiss away that pout,or reassure him he was loved.

The best he could manage was to reach behind him,catch Caleb’s hand in his own,and give it a quick squeeze.Then he set his shoulder against the door to the general store and pushed it open.

A rush of dry,hot air hit him in the face as he entered the store,Caleb on his heels.Even as his lover was closing the door,a scratchy voice cried out from behind the counter,“Shut that trap,will you?You’ll let all the heat out.”

Brance glanced over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of the dark look brooding on Caleb’s face before his lover turned toward the door.Slowly Caleb eased the door shut,but just before the latch caught,he shoved against it,hard.

“Damn it,boy,”the shopkeep snapped.“No need to slam it.”

Beneath his breath,Caleb muttered,“Wind got it.”

“Shh,”Brance hissed.He turned before he could see the wounded pride in his lover’s eyes.Tonight,he promised silently.In human form,the thought stayed inside him,unspoken.I’ll make it up to you then.Aloud,all he couldsay within the shopkeep’s earshot was,“Don’t touch anything.”

Ignoring the glare his lover directed his way,Brance strolled down the narrow aisles inside the dingy store.They needed dry goods,some potatoes,some gun powder.When his arms were full,he stepped up to the counter and deposited his goods in front of the shopkeep.The man was easily twice Brance’s age,wiry and wrinkled,as if he had been sitting for too long in front of the potbelly stove that warmed the shop.A pair of pince nezglasses sat perched precariously on the bridge of his nose,and his mouth worked around toothless gums as he stared at Brance.When Brance risked a look at him,the man spoke.His voice was surprisingly loud this close.“You them boys squatting out in the woods,ain’t’cha?”

Brance gave him a slight nod.

The man teetered back on his stool,pleased.“I knew it!”he crowed.

Brance suspected this little visit would likely supply the man with hours of gossip.The people in town would talk of them anyway,Brance knew,but he didn’t want to give them added topics.Better to keep quiet.He glanced around the shop until he saw the top of Caleb’s hat sticking up from the last aisle.

Brance’s lack of response didn’t deter the shopkeep from making conversation.“I heard you was building a cabin out there.How’s that coming along?”

“It’s built.”