Authors: Maddy Barone
Carla walked across the grass and sat beside her on the bench. “Gorgeous weather,” she remarked. “If only summer would be warm like this instead of hot and humid, I’d love it even more.”
“Hmmm,” Rose agreed. “Are you ready for your concert at the Eatery this Saturday night?”
“Yeah, pretty much. The first one of the summer season always gives me butterflies, but after a long winter it’s good to get out.”
“I remember when you and Taye used to
discuss
your concert schedule.”
Carla laughed. “And Stone still complains about how we made up after arguing.”
“Not as much as he used to, though.”
They laughed together. Carla wiped her eyes. “It’s going to start up again soon. I think it’s time I go and sing at The Limit. Now that Omaha is stable, and Sky’s people have turned his old house into a restaurant, Taye can’t possibly have any objections.”
She and Sky had returned to the den the third week of October, ten days after Ryan McGrath had formally been sworn in as the Mayor of Omaha. After a roundtable discussion with all the employees of The Limit, Ms. Mary and Mrs. Nord decided they would open a restaurant like the Eatery. One of the reception rooms would be retained as a dance parlor where gentlemen could come to have a drink and dance with a lady. In fact, The Limit would continue pretty much as it had been, minus the appointments with the girls upstairs. The fact it wasn’t a whorehouse anymore didn’t mean Taye would want Carla there.
Rose slanted a disbelieving look at her.
“Well, not any reasonable objections.”
“He is a wolf warrior,” Rose reminded her.
“And I am his mate. He wants me to be happy, and singing makes me happy.”
“That’s a good argument. Taye won’t go for it, but it’s a good argument.”
Carla sighed, and then stuck out her chin. “He’ll come around.”
Rose patted the Lupa’s shoulder encouragingly. “Maybe Sky could talk to Taye. He still keeps in touch with Ms. Mary.”
Carla tilted her head almost like a wolf listening to a distant sound. “Little Feather is up from his nap. See you later, Rose.”
Rose leaned her head back to enjoy the sun on her face, thinking about Omaha. They received letters from time to time from The Limit, and though the restaurant had had a rocky start in the beginning, it seemed be doing well now that chief of police Dean Erikson had assigned some guards to ensure the patrons didn’t get out of hand. That did require Ms. Mary to pay extra taxes to cover the salaries of the guards, but it was a reasonable tax compared to what the house used to pay.
“Rose.”
Rose opened her eyes and slid over to make room on the bench for Katelyn, who was five months along in her pregnancy. “Good morning. How are you feeling today?”
“The morning sickness is gone,” Katelyn replied. “August can’t come soon enough. How are you?”
Rose hadn’t had morning sickness. Sara had threatened to kick her. Odell, who was living with Snow with the Clan, had just written to say they were expecting their first child in the fall. The Clan was ecstatic about all the new babies coming.
Sara came over to them, no children in tow. Katelyn asked, “Where’s Patia?”
“Trying to boss her baby brother around.” Sara arched her back to ease the strain. “Since Little Feather is only nine months old, it’s not going so well for her.” Sara smiled and waved a hand to indicate the three of them. “Look at us, married only nine months and already knocked up.”
Katelyn shaded her eyes with her hand and jerked her chin toward the front of the den. “How can we not be, with husbands like those?”
Rose and Sara followed her gaze and saw three wolves jump the gate in the fence and lope toward them. Katelyn pulled Paint’s eye patch from her pocket as the wolves changed into men. Stone immediately began to scold Sara for not lying down. Sara rolled her eyes and Rose had to press her lips together to keep from laughing. Paint put an arm around his wife’s waist and towed her toward their little house. Sky, comfortably naked, took a seat on the bench beside her and turned his face up to the sun as she had.
Rose reached into her back pocket and took out a rectangle of paper. “We have a letter from Omaha.”
He took the paper and frowned down at it. It was addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Sky Wolfe. “Hm. Not from Ms. Mary. That’s not her handwriting.”
“Open it, Sky. I waited for you, but I’m dying to know who it’s from.”
He opened it. “Fancy letterhead. Office of the Mayor of Omaha. I’ll read it out loud.
“Dear Mr. and Mrs. Wolfe,
I hope this letter finds you in good health. I am writing to inform you that my mother died peacefully in her sleep on the twenty-ninth of April. She often asked when Mrs. Wolfe was coming to visit again. She always had warm thoughts for the two of you.
Law and order is being restored to Omaha. Over the winter we had fewer hangings than in the autumn. This may be because cold weather suppresses crime. However, I believe the men of Omaha are learning to follow the new laws put in place by the City Council. The men who believed they are too powerful to be prosecuted have learned they are wrong. The common men like Mister Nelson, Mrs. Amanda Wolfe’s father, and Mrs. Sara Wolfe’s uncle, are running for office. I am sure Mr. Nelson has already communicated his intention to run for the office of Chief of Sanitation to his family. Our first elections will be held November 1st. I hope you’ll come to visit Omaha one day and see how your efforts have helped create a new and better city.
I would also like to inform you that Miss Cayla Dahlman has done me the honor of accepting my proposal of marriage. We’re planning a July 10th wedding. We would both be pleased to have you be our guests on our special day.
Sincerely,
Ryan T. McGrath
Mayor of Omaha.”
Rose angled her head to look up at Sky. “He writes letters old school. Even in the Times Before that would have been an old-fashioned letter. But it’s nice. I really liked Cayla. Are we going to the wedding?”
“No.” He placed a hand on her lower belly. “I have everything I need right here.”
She laid her hand over his. “Me too. We can send them a wedding gift and a card to wish them well.”
“A wedding gift?” His dimple flared in his cheek. “Like what?”
“I was thinking a nice silk necktie.”
He laughed, eyes brightly blue in the sunlight. It was a carefree sound that made her smile. “I wonder if he knows what a Chippendale dancer is.”
She laughed too, loving him and loving their future together. They still had that silk necktie, and every now and then he’d put it on while wearing nothing else, and model it for her. She laid her head on his shoulder. Maybe their life wouldn’t always be as perfect as this moment, but they had each other, and that would always be enough.
The End
Publisher’s Note
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About Maddy Barone
Maddy Barone has held many jobs in her life, including medic in the US Army, sales clerk in a craft store, and financial examiner for Medicare, but her favorite job is that of writer. For fun she knits, spins (the making yarn kind, not the exercise kind *shudder*), and sews historical costumes for her alter ego in the SCA. The Society for Creative Anachronism is a historical organization that recreates the best parts of the Middle Ages. She lives in North Dakota USA with her three rescue cats. Learn more about Maddy at www.MaddyBarone.com
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