The Cougar's Mate by Holley Trent Page A

place.”
    Then he was gone.
    She sighed. “One of these days, I’m gonna get sick of you leaving me, bub.”
    ___
    Floyd’s “usual place” was at a trailhead about a mile from the Baxter family home—far enough back and down a slope enough that folks wouldn’t see his headlights. They met there at least once per week, sometimes more often depending on how badly Glen wanted to get away. He was always so willing to please her.
    Glen tossed her backpack and sleeping bag through the open window in the back of Floyd’s truck bed topper, and then jogged around to the passenger side.
    He took her hand as soon as she climbed in.
    “Where are we going this time? Can you tell me now?” she asked.
    “You’ll see.” He kissed the back of her hand then placed it on his lap. He had to shift gears.
    “What’s with all the mystery?”
    He pointed the truck toward the mountains—away from the trail. They hadn’t gone that way before. “There you go, honey. Not a mystery.”
    “Tell me about it.”
    “No reason to. You’ll see it soon enough. Why waste all the words?”
    “It’s okay to talk sometimes, Floyd,” she said with a laugh. “That’s how people learn about each other.”
    “What do you really have left to learn about me, huh? You’ve known me since you were a baby.”
    It would have been more precise for him to say that she knew of him since she was young. They hadn’t been allowed to associate much, and she was certain that was as much his mother’s doing as her mother’s. For reasons Glen couldn’t ascertain, Margarita Foye hated Glen. The woman wouldn’t even say “hi” when they passed each other on the sidewalk in town.
    Furrowing her brow, she turned to Floyd. “Why does your mother hate me?”
    He snorted, and then shifted the truck to third gear. They’d had so little rain that the terrain was dry and hard. It made for smooth-enough driving. “That’s random as hell.”
    “No it’s not. Why does she?”
    “She doesn’t hate you.”
    “Could have fooled me. She practically hisses whenever she sees me.”
    “Don’t take it personally. She does that to lots of folks.”
    “Why?”
    He shrugged. “Just the way she is. She can’t help it.”
    Glen put her feet up on the dashboard and settled low in her seat. “My mother thinks she’s some kind of… witch, or spell caster. She thinks your mother is responsible for the lack of rain in the past three months.”
    He scoffed. “A witch? Seriously, Glen?”
    “There are witches in town. Did you know that?”
    “Well, yeah, but Ma ain’t one of them. She’s just a little weird, is all.”
    “You should hear some of the new rumors people are spreading about your family. They say your mother goes down to Mexico to learn new spells and brings them back to raise hell.”
    “She goes to Mexico to visit her nieces and nephews. All she ever brings back are tamales.”
    “I want tamales.”
    He shrugged again. “Ask her for some. She won’t tell you no.”
    “You really believe that?”
    “Yeah, I do. Ma would never deny you food.”
    “No, just a kind word and a smile on occasion.”
    “You just gotta warm her up, Glen.”
    Glen let her lips sputter and leaned to turn on the radio. Floyd only ever got one station in his truck, so it was a good thing she liked oldies.
    B.B. King’s growly voice filled the cab and Glen settled even lower in her seat, eyes closed, to listen.
    It’d been such a long day, and that was about all she had energy for—to listen and to ponder how to ingratiate herself with her boyfriend’s mother. And then rest, when the truck gently rocked her to sleep.

CHAPTER TWO
    Since Glen was asleep, Floyd took the opportunity to check his secret place without her wigging out about the location. If any animals had taken up residence in the small cave since his last visit, he’d need to clear them out. For the most part, animals didn’t scare him. He was a Cougar shifter and could frighten away most things