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TRIXIE

T rixie was already in a dark mood when she saw Jay’s number flash up on her phone that evening. “Trixie,” she answered shortly.

“Trix! What’s this about more sabotage ?”

Trixie set her jaw, hating the shortening of her nickname as much as Jay’s accusing tone.

“Someone sawed halfway through a bunch of corner studs. It would have crushed the wall if we’d put the full weight of the trusses there in the morning like we’d planned.

We’re incredibly lucky that Keith noticed it.

Someone could have been seriously hurt!”

Jay was quiet a moment. “So did we miss the truss delivery? Or will we have to haul them up one by one? That’s going to slow us down a lot.”

“I had them put on the other end of the house,” Trixie said. “We got backfill early, so there was access.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?” Jay sounded genuinely annoyed.

“I thought you didn’t like having to micromanage things. ”

“It isn’t micromanaging to keep me in the loop .”

“You know what would be more helpful than giving me a hard time about actually getting things done? If you were here . Sam didn’t show up today, and if it hadn’t been for Hunter, we’d be further behind than ever.

There’s snow in the forecast tomorrow and we could use an extra set of hands in the worst way.

If it’s not in the way of your other plans, you know. ”

Jay was silent long enough that Trixie wondered if she’d crossed a line at last. Jay’s general willingness to make half the profits from the projects she was working her ass off on alone had galled her for a long time, but she’d always kept her resentment in check.

After all, he was usually the one who got them the jobs in the first place.

She usually preferred to have him off the jobsite, because he didn’t take direction well.

“I’m back in Fairbanks,” he conceded. “I could come out tomorrow, about noon, and give you a hand.”

“That would be great,” Trixie said, with honest relief. “I’d really appreciate that.”

“Let me know if there’s something you want from Fairbanks,” Jay said. “I’ll be happy to bring it with me.”

“We’re pretty well stocked,” Trixie said. “We’ve got the roofing materials on hand. Thanks.”

“Of course, Trix. Where would we be without you!” When he turned on the charm, it was hard to be mad at him.

“See you tomorrow, Jay.”

Trixie’s brain would not stop returning to the mystery at hand. Who was behind this? If it had been Keith or Kyle, why would they bring the damaged studs to her attention? Who had the most to gain if the project failed? Why did it have to be this project ?

She was thinking so hard about the puzzle that when she came around the corner of her trailer towards the building, both she and the big bull moose who was standing by the tarped roofing material were surprised.

“Oh, no!” Trixie said ferociously, recovering swiftly. “Look, I know about shifters, and you are not going to get away with accidentally damaging the custom-cut roofing material that I need to finish this job!”

The moose snorted and bunched its shoulders, ears pointed flat back, and at any other time, Trixie might have considered that a warning. But she was done being threatened and she was done being nice, and she wasn’t going to let a shifter try to bully her into quitting when she was so close .

She marched forward. The moose was taller than she was at the shoulder, an absolutely massive creature with a huge rack that gleamed white in the murky twilight.

“What are you going to do?” she asked him.

“Trample me? I’m not afraid of you, and you can’t stop me from getting this done.

Whoever is paying you, it isn’t enough. You have to know that this is the wrong thing to do. ”

The moose lowered his head—sheepishly?—and moved its weight from hoof to hoof as he snorted again.

“Look, let’s just have a nice conversation in English and you can tell me who’s behind this and I don’t have to mention you to the state troopers.”

Trixie stood with her hands on her hips, refusing to be intimidated by the moose shifter’s bulk. “You’re not fooling me, asshole. And you’re not scaring me off.”

The moose feinted forward and Trixie nearly broke. It might be a shifter testing her nerves, but it was a big moose, probably 1500 pounds, with an antler score of at least 250. It was dark, and Trixie was alone and unarmed .

She was also absolutely fed up and she stood her ground, crossing her arms before her defiantly even though the surprise half-charge sent adrenaline coursing through her body.

She gritted her teeth as the moose swung aside and moved in an agitated circle to face her again, pawing and snorting.

It really was behaving in an awfully moose-like way, and doubt sent fingers of cold dread through the heat of Trixie’s anger.

“Oh shi?—”

She dove out his path at the last moment when he charged in earnest, and his antlers swung so close that Trixie felt them scrape her flannel shirt as she scrambled over a tarped pile of supplies.

The moose stomped and Trixie rolled away, searching for better cover as she heard him return for another infuriated pass at her.

Then there was a thundering sound and a snarling growl that she would never be able to forget.

The moose gave a bellow of outrage and Trixie turned her head just in time to see a galloping golden bear hit the moose full in the side and knock him off his feet.

The moose sounded like a faulty air raid siren and the bear was roaring; paws and hooves were everywhere.

Before Trixie had time to even be afraid, Hunter was backing off and the moose was lurching to his feet, both of them panting and growling.

Thin ribbons of blood stained both fur and hide, but neither of them looked badly hurt.

They circled each other for a moment and Trixie realized that Hunter was moving deliberately so that he was between her and the moose.

The moose backed slowly away and finally turned to lope off into the brush, the sound of him crashing through branches fading away into the other night sounds.

Hunter shifted and Trixie darted forward on trembling legs. “Are you hurt? Are you okay? ”

He raised a hand to his head. “Bastard kicked me and got a lucky swipe with his antlers, but it’s not bad.

Shifters heal fast.” He staggered a little when he tried to walk, and Trixie realized that she was too weak from shock to support him, and indeed, her legs could not support herself.

Trixie pulled him down with her when they gave out and burst into hysterical sobbing laughter.

“I thought it was a shifter. I was so sure. He was standing right there, where he could have smashed up the roofing materials we need. I feel so stupid. You’re hurt! It’s my fault!”

“I’m okay,” Hunter assured her. “I’m okay. You’re okay. Everything is fine.” He wrapped his strong arms around her and held her until she could stop crying. “Everything is fine.”

He helped her up, and although he limped, he could walk to the trailer and he tolerantly let Trixie work out her fear and frustration by cleaning his scalp wound and fussing over his leg.

“I’m sorry,” she said, when she could speak coherently again. “That wasn’t a shifter, was it?”

Hunter shook his head. “And neither Keith nor Kyle is our guy.”

“I couldn’t see why they would point out the damage if they’d done it,” Trixie said.

“They also aren’t wolves.”

“They aren’t? But everyone calls them the Taylor pack.”

“Other things apparently come in packs. Like meerkats.”

“Meerkats? Aw, they’re cute. And wow, that actually fits them really well.”

“Shifters often share some characteristics of their animal companions.”

“Like dog owners who look like their dogs.” Trixie realized she still felt a little hysterical and knew that nothing was as funny as she thought it was. “Do you want a drink? I have a bottle of rum. Hot Tang and rum is one of my favorite drinks.”

Hunter nodded, then grinned. “I’ll take your hot tang any day.”