“Darlin’, we’re stopping for lunch. Not taking over territory.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Woman, you know how I get when I’m hungry.”

“Okay. Okay. ”

Still thinking this was a bad idea, Jess stepped out of the truck and followed Smitty inside the steakhouse restaurant.

It took a while to get her comfortable. But when she realized the place was run by full-humans she seemed to relax.

They ordered two inhumanly large steaks, rare, and several side orders they shared. Once they finished eating, they relaxed back and just talked. It was nice.

“You’re actually going to adopt Johnny?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Didn’t you say he was going to be seventeen soon?”

“This upcoming weekend.”

“Then doesn’t that make him a little old?”

Jess sipped her coffee. “He has to know he belongs. That he’s got family. I don’t want him leaving at eighteen and thinking he doesn’t have anybody.”

“What does he say about it?”

Jessie stared at him so long, he finally asked, “You did ask him about this, didn’t you?”

“I thought I did.” She squinted, trying to remember. “But I think we got sidetracked by brownies.”

Smitty rubbed his eyes with his fingertips. “Okay. Let’s try this. He’s wolf.”

“So?”

“He doesn’t really belong in a dog Pack, darlin’.”

“Who says?”

“Look, I’m not trying to get you upset. And I’m sure you guys can be pretty tough when you wanna be, but you need to be realistic. He’s a wolf. At eighteen those genes are gonna kick in full force.”

“And you don’t think we can handle it?”

“I think you can try.”

“Unfortunately, Smitty, no wolf Packs wanted him. Children’s Services tried to place him with wolves and they wouldn’t take him in. We were the only ones who would.”

“What about his parents’ Packs?”

“Don’t know who they are. His mom had some... troubles. She cut herself off from her family.”

“His father?”

“No idea who he is and we’ve tried to track him down. Bottom line, all he’s got is us.”

Smitty cleared his throat. “You know, I can help.”

“Help? With what?”

“With the boy. You know, if he needs advice or something. I can help.”

Jessie stared at him again.

“Hello?”

She put her coffee cup down on the table. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She said it very politely and with a wariness he didn’t much like.

“Is there aproblem?”

“No.” She glanced out the window. “Rain stopped.”

“Looks that way.”

“You ready to go?”

“Yeah, sure.”

He motioned to the waitress for the check.

“Since you took care of lunch last time, I’ll get this.”

Jessie threw down a black credit card on the silver-plated bill holder the waitress brought by.

She did it casually, without a thought. No worries there about her last big purchase.

They finished paying up and headed outside.

“Think we can stop by that Starbucks up the road before we head home?” she asked.

Smitty dug into his jacket pocket to fish out his keys. “Yeah, sure.” He’d just snagged the keys from his pocket when he walked right into the back of her.

“Jessie?”

He looked up and that’s when he saw them, leaning against and resting on his pickup truck.

Bears. About eight of them, none of them smaller than seven feet. Great. Just what he needed. Really big, really cranky bears.

Jess had been afraid of this. The local bear population was not friendly. They actually didn’t get along with each other either, but they teamed up in a heartbeat against outsiders. They welcomed full-humans, but cats and canines had no place in Martin County.

Smitty gently swiped his hand down her back before stepping around her.

“Can I help y’all?”

The one lying directly on top of Smitty’s hood seemed to be the biggest problem, his seven-five stature not withstanding. A polar bear, he had his hands behind his head as he stared up at the sky.

“I just gotta wonder, what brings a couple of dogs to our territory.”

“Just stopping to have lunch until the rains passed.” Smitty shrugged. “They’ve passed.”

“Yeah, that’s true. But I have to say I’m getting pretty tired of you people traipsing through our town.”

Smitty stood next to his truck. He looked calm, cool, completely rational, so Jess stepped behind a tree and out of the line of fire.

The problem was these Northerners had never experienced a true Smith wolf attack. They didn’t play like the other Packs. Besides, the dumb bastard had fucked with Smitty’s truck. You never fucked with a man’s truck.

“You know, dog,” the bear continued, “I’m thinking it’s about time we made an examp—”

Smitty didn’t even bother to let him finish. He just grabbed the bear by his foot and yanked all seven feet five inches and probably a good three hundred or more pounds of him off the hood of his truck, slamming the man face down on the concrete. Jess distinctly heard bone breaking. Probably the bear’s nose. Maybe some ribs.