Ellie's Wolf by Maddy Barone

murmured.
    He said that a lot. Ellie was touched by his desire to reassure her. She nodded and bit off another hunk of dried meat. It was only a half hour before Ellie heard a wolf’s howl rise faintly in the distance. Instantly she went to her horse and tried to put her foot in the stirrup. She was too stiff to do it gracefully, but Quill was there to help her up to the saddle. He kept one hand on her knee and looked up at her with a serious face. Ellie could get used to feeling his hand on her. If she wasn’t so concerned about Connor, she would have leaned down and kissed him.
    “I want you to keep behind me,” he told her. “Don’t move away from me until I’m sure you’re safe. Promise me.”
    “All right, I promise.” Impatience danced on the edge of her voice. “Let’s hurry.”
    Ellie didn’t even notice her saddle sores as she followed Quill and another mounted man down the slope to the yard of the mill. Sara and Mel were right beside her, and the rest of the men and wolves were clustered around them in guard mode. Ellie wondered if they looked threatening, half a dozen men on horses and half a dozen large wolves riding down the slope, none of them looking friendly. Yes, she was pretty sure they looked threatening.
    Paint and Lance were standing there in front of the mill, one of them on either side of Mr. Moore, who was dressed in his usual jeans, flannel shirt, and canvas apron, with a bandana around his neck. Ellie gave him a quick glance, but she wanted to see Connor. Moore wouldn’t have brought the children to the mill. The house was only five hundred yards away, and Ellie wanted desperately to go there, but she had promised Quill to stay close behind him.
    Mr. Moore didn’t look surprised to see her, but he’d probably watched them come down the hill and recognized her then. “Mrs. Overdahl,” he said with a smile. “You look well.”
    His friendly tone made Ellie bristle. Beside her, Mel spat into the dirt.
    Quill nudged his horse farther in front of her, blocking Mr. Moore’s view of her. “Her name is Wolfe now.” His voice was strong and cold. “We’ve come to collect my wife’s belongings, and her son.”
    Mr. Moore smiled again. He wasn’t handsome like Quill, but he was a pleasant-looking man of thirty-five, with a good house and a prosperous business. Ellie had never understood why he was so set on having her for his wife. Even with few women in the area, he shouldn’t have any trouble finding another wife. Maybe that’s what he was thinking when he directed his smile at Mel.
    “Ma’am, I sure admire the way you handle your horse. I like a woman who knows how to stay in the saddle no matter how rough the ride gets.”
    Ellie recoiled. Was she only imagining the double meaning in Moore’s voice?
    “You ladies should come up to the house and have a cool drink of water,” Mr. Moore suggested, still smiling at Mel.
    Mel spat again. “I wouldn’t drink your water if yours was the only well in five hundred miles.”
    Moore’s smile faded, leaving his face less pleasant-looking. “No need to be rude, miss.”
    Mel glared back. “It’s Mrs., actually. Mrs. Wolfe. So don’t get any stupid ideas about marrying me.”
    “Marry…” Mr. Moore’s mouth pinched tightly shut for a moment. “Why would I want to marry a rude woman like you? Your husband should teach you manners.”
    A sharp bark of laughter erupted from Mel. “Him, teach me manners? I’m not sure he’s housebroken.” She glanced apologetically down at the four-footed Snake. “Sorry. I guess I shouldn’t have said that. He just really pisses me off.”
    The gray wolf beside her raised a lip to reveal sharp white teeth in a snarl.
    “No, Snake! Don’t bite him.”
    Snake settled for growling, hackles raised.
    Moore’s eyebrow lifted. “You named your pet Snake?”
    “No.” Mel’s smile oozed blithe enjoyment. “That’s my husband.”
    Sara giggled. Moore shot her a poisonous glare. Stone’s growl