Shifter's Hope

By Laura Hawks

Shy and timid Hope Landers is praying not to be discovered as she runs from an abusive relationship. She doesn’t realize the man who is about to enter her life keeps a secret far worse than she can imagine. This secret will dispel every belief she has ever held and could ultimately end her life. Raven Stillwater, an Ojibwa Native condemned to death by his tribe, has remained close to his ancestral home. Trying against all odds that he will find a way to clear his name and thereby lift his sentence. Then he sees Hope and realizes he has an opportunity to correct a mistake he made years ago by letting her walk away. He would follow her anywhere even if it means leaving the protection of the only home he has known for centuries. However in order to be with her, this woman who has occupied his every waking thought and dreams, he will have put her directly into the cross hairs of his tribe eliminating not only himself but Hope as well. Can they survive the secret the tribe will kill to protect?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Laura Hawks
• Release date: Aug 17, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370650798

Laura Hawks

Ms. Hawks has always been interested in writing in some form or other. A few years back, she was involved with and then ran a Star Trek Interactive Writing Group which was successful for a number of years. Yes, she is a trekker and proud of it.A few years back, she received her Master's Degree in Ancient Civilizations, Native American History and United States History.It was at this time she got involved in role playing on FaceBook, which gave her ample opportunities to grow and hone her writing ability.Living with three males takes up a lot of her free time.. granted they are all cats, but when they are not trying to push her out of bed, they are trying to help her type.She does several personal appearances around the country at Author/Reader conventions. Please check the website to see where she will appear next.

Book preview

PROLOGue

The wind wafted gently as he stood on the cliff overlooking the Agawa River. It was quiet. The land was white with the virgin snow, which had drifted onto the landscape the previous evening. He reached forward with his mind and called to him, then waited. The thing about these creatures was the putrid smell of death, which permeated the air long before they were ever seen.

Considered only legend, they had managed to hide from many for centuries. With his gift, though, he knew where they were. He worked with them. They were almost considered his pets, performing what he required or desired. He didn’t take advantage of them, though. He had them do only what he himself couldn’t. He would reward them whenever he asked for their help, providing them goods they were unable to attain for themselves.

The beings were aware of the protection he afforded them and his leadership. Because of this, they were willing to accomplish whatever he asked, regardless of what the job might entail. In a way, they were almost childish, relying on him for guidance and instruction. He didn’t mind. He was a Shaman. He was Midewiwin. He was guardian and, in a way, father to them.

As he waited, his mind drifted through all he knew, all he learned. It was hard to believe so much had happened over the last couple of centuries. So many changes to the land, the people. His people. He scanned the landscape with ancient, knowing eyes. Once he walked this land himself. Because of the gift of premonition, he knew the outcomes of all. No matter their paths, they ultimately chose the way which led to the completion of what he foresaw. His eyes turned white as he looked into the future, and the past. The one thing he never foresaw was his own demise. He should have realized that the desire for what his killer wanted was great by far, and his murderer would not let anything step in the way of seeing it successfully accomplished. Not even reason or threats of his own existence here, extinguished as a result of his actions. Sure, his killer would achieve some semblance of success at his goal. True, he would even rule for a time over the land of their people. However, in the end it would not be long enough, and the damage he would achieve would far outweigh the success wrought from his greed.

Only he could see it. He tried to warn his murderer. Tried to prevent the folly of his killer’s ways. Instead, all his attempts brought him was more death, including his own. His trance-like state reminded him of what had passed and what was yet to come. There were times he wished he could see happiness for himself, but that was not in the cards for him, either. He was Shaman. He was Midewiwin. He was past and present. He knew some of the future could be changed, but it was rare when it happened. The future shifted in swirling mists, not as tangible as the past, which was solid, or the present, which was only slightly cloudy. He could only hope to direct the path of the future the way the Great Manitou thought it should be and, therefore, showed him. There was a lot of work yet to be done. A great deal to prepare for. The time was almost at hand.

The ground shook, breaking the trance he was in. His senses were so in tune with the cosmos, even minute disturbances would catch his attention. He had learned eons ago, when he was still among the living, to pick and choose which ripples in the universe to concern himself with and which to ignore. This he could not ignore, but he was going to need some heavy-handed assistance until the time was right.

He caught the scent that wafted on the breeze and knew the creature had arrived. He turned towards the direction he knew it was coming from. It was tall and gangly. Its flesh hung from its frame. The stench of death was overpowering, heavy, thick. It was almost a fog that could be cut with a knife, it was so strong. The odor was too strong for most, but he had gotten used to it. He needed to, if he were to work with them in any capacity. He needed them and the skill set they brought. For those of his clan, especially for one, he would endure anything required of him, including this miasma.

Greetings, my friend. Thank you for coming.

The creature inclined his head in respect.

I have a mission for you. A task. I need you to guard someone. I have masked him from others, but there still may be those who stumble upon him by accident. You need to keep him safe without him knowing you are keeping him safe. There will be a day he will need you and so will his mate. He is an important man, and our very existence is dependent upon him.

Again, the creature tilted his head in acknowledgment. He pointed in the direction he needed to have protected and watched as the creature lumbered out of sight. He could only hope the creature would do its job. If his ward was lost, so was all hope.

CHAPTER One

Raven watched her. His blue eyes almost glowing as he silently followed her movements along the mulched path. It had been about seven years since he had last seen her and he thought never to see her again.

He couldn’t believe she was here, or that she had finally returned. He caught her scent when she left the train, her particular Freesia-and-citrus aroma wafted through the air. He couldn’t get to the canyon fast enough to see if it was true and she had returned after all this time. Could the gods have forgiven him? Did they bring her back to him? Could his luck have changed? Was he to be given another chance to be with her; to have her as part of his life? His eyes bored into her as he crept along above her and just out of her line of vision.

It had been drizzling when the tourist train arrived at the canyon for its daily deluge of visitors. The wetness caused the October weather to become cool and damp. The passengers exited the train with some trepidation and lots of colorful umbrellas. Most of the travelers took off down the winding tree-lined paths, laden with fallen colorful leaves. Rarely did he venture this close to the canyon park grounds when the train was there, preferring to stay away from the mountain ledge on the other side of the Agawa River, far enough that he could remain hidden in his solitude.

He had been alone now for three years. Living in the wilderness above the canyon, his clan preferred to stay away from the touristy places, thereby making this area safe for him. The canyon had too many people for their particular liking, even if the train only brought these visitors once a day for a couple of hours. Since his pack had beaten him and left him to die, it was the only safe haven he had. Sure, he could have left the area altogether, but this was his home too. Where he played as a child, and where he fought as a warrior to protect his clan, his tribe, his people, and his ancestors. If he were honest with himself, though, he knew it was also in hopes she would eventually return.

Raven didn’t mind the groups of people who, after a three-and-a-half-hour train ride, were so excited to roam the beauty of Agawa Canyon, visiting the waterfalls and overlooks along the tannin-dyed water of the Agawa River. The train brought in the tourists for only two hours a day, at best, spring through fall, and that was when the train ran on time, something it only did on occasion. He didn’t mind that many others enjoyed what he admired about this area, especially during autumn when the trees were just starting to turn their rich, bright colors of yellows and reds.

Since he remained on the mountainous side of the Agawa River, there was no way for the train’s passengers to cross without getting wet, and even then, the park rangers forbade venturing into the water beyond the shoreline. Therefore, his solitude was virtually guaranteed. The rest of the time, there were the occasional park rangers who worked in the area, cleaning up after the train had departed and catching the commute train which came through in mid-afternoon, but they, too, were far and few in between. Mostly he was alone with his thoughts and with his memories.

Today was different. He caught a whiff of her scent despite the strong pine odor mixed with rain and the fresh dirt smell which was now almost overpowering. Yet still, he caught her essence. As soon as he did, he ran to see the passengers from the train wandering about. As he approached, her scent became stronger, and he followed it as best he could without being seen.

Seven years ago, Raven had spotted her and had been struck by her beauty. She would stop and talk with several other people from the train, even pointing in some direction or another as if giving instructions. He would then hear her gentle laughter, which sounded like tinkling bells as it drifted on the breeze. He wanted to know her, be with her, but he couldn’t. He had responsibilities, duties, obligations. That was then. Now, his pack thought him dead and he was free from all those commitments. When he’d been accused of treason, his accountabilities had been stripped from him. He’d been beaten for his crimes and left for dead. Sheer willpower kept him existing, yet still, he never left the area. He never even thought about leaving, until now. Somehow, he always thought he would get the proof he needed to support his innocence, but he never could venture into town to investigate. He realized if he tried, his tribe would suspect or learn he was still alive and hunt him down again to finish the job they started three years ago. No, if he wanted to live, he could not chance it. Her return changed things. Now he could leave this place and he had a reason to do so. He was free. Liberated to go to her, be with her. He had found her once again, and this time, he was not going to let her go.

Hope was glad it had been drizzling. It meant the paths along the canyon were considerably empty and she needed the peace and solitude they offered. For the first time in what seemed like ages, she could breathe easier, and even felt relaxed. She meandered along the gently sloping path, glad the mulch and dense trees prevented major mud holes. It would not look professional if she came back all soiled from her walk.

The Agawa Canyon Train had arrived at the canyon late and, instead of a two-hour layover, they only had a little more than an hour. Most of the time was gone already. She should be heading back along the path to the train, but she wanted to see Little Black Beaver Falls. They were her favorite and a bit hidden, slightly off the beaten track and usually not crowded. The rain also limited the number of train passengers who were willing to walk about the lush area, allowing her to enjoy the quiet solitude.

When she crossed the bridge from Black Beaver Falls to Little Black Beaver Falls, she heard voices. She slowed her pace, wanting her private time to last a little longer before she returned to the train and her duties as a tour director. As she slowed, she looked around again. She had the eerie feeling she was being watched for the third time since she left the train car, but she didn’t see anything or anyone. She rubbed her temples to ease the sudden pounding, which seemed to come upon her whenever she felt this new sensation of being watched. Reaching the falls, she sat down on the bench. There were a couple and teenage boy taking photos of the falls, but she did not know them and didn’t feel the obligation to chat. Moments later they left and the quiet of the forest engulfed her. Even the birds were silent.

Then she felt it again. The overwhelming feeling of being watched. She looked around, but saw nothing except a large raven looking at her from a tree high above. She shook her head and smiled.

I must be more distraught than I thought. I’m nervous over a bird watching me and now I am talking to myself. Geez, get a grip!

Rubbing her temples again, she glanced at her watch. She still had five minutes before she had to run back to the train. Five more minutes of peace and quiet soaking in the beauty of the area.

She looked back up to where she last saw the huge raven, but he was gone. Scanning the trees, she didn’t see him. Standing, she decided she better head back, but as she stood she became dizzy, the pounding in her head increased, the feeling of being watched overwhelming. She grabbed onto the bench to steady herself, but her head began to thrum and her vision became dark. She was slipping, and although she desperately tried to hold on, she knew she was falling into blackness. Her last clear thought was that she was going to miss the train.

He was losing sight of her. He had to get closer. So he shifted his form into a large, ebony raven and flew across the river, landing in the trees near Little Black Beaver Falls. This position gave him an unobstructed view of her. He was so close to her. He watched her look around, searching. Could she feel him? Sense him watching her? He didn’t think so. She was human, after all. She should not be able to sense him, and yet she appeared to glance around as if knowing he was there. His mind reached out to her. He felt her trepidation, her nervousness, and he pulled back. He didn’t want to frighten her. He instinctively knew she was destined to be his mate. Now he had just had to meet her.

She looked up, saw him, and he realized she was more beautiful up close than he even realized from a distance. Her green eyes were searching, and when she smiled at him, her whole, small, heart-shaped face lit up. She was tall and voluptuous. Long, cascading, curly auburn hair with highlights of red sparkled in the sunlight, which decided to peek out after the shower they recently experienced. Her lips were full and red, pouty and certainly made for kissing. When she looked away, he changed positions, flying to another tree to see her better. He wondered what she was thinking, and he wished he could read her thoughts instead of just touch her mind to obtain her emotional state.She was just starting to stand, probably to head back to the train, when he saw her grab the bench. She paled and wavered, beginning to lose her balance. Before he realized what he was doing he flew down, shifting into human form and catching her in his arms as she passed out.

CHAPTER Two

Hope awoke, her head throbbing. It took her a moment to realize where she was as she opened her eyes. She was lying on the bench by Little Black Bear Falls, her head cradled on a lap. Looking up, she saw the most amazing blue eyes watching her, set in one of the most handsome faces she could ever recall. Strong, aquiline features on a tanned, masculine face. His shadow of whiskers gave him an outdoor rugged appearance, with a mischievous look which became him. Yet, she instinctively knew his features could turn hard and determined if and when needed.

Are you okay? Raven asked when he saw she was awake.

She rubbed her forehead a bit, pinching the bridge of her nose, before she replied, I think I am alright. I’m not sure what happened exactly. Who are you? she asked.

My name is Raven Stillwater. I was walking by when I saw you. He smiled down at her. Here, I have some water. You should drink. Don’t need you passing out again, do we?

Hope was mesmerized by his soft, deep voice and sparkling, captivating blue eyes. It took her a moment before the words registered and then realization hit. The train was about to leave! She jumped up off the bench. The fast movement caused her head to swim once again, but Raven grabbed her waist and held her steady. She had to look up at him.

Although she was not short at five feet eight, he towered over her. He must be six foot four inches at least. His facial structure and skin coloring told her immediately he was a Native American Indian, probably Ojibwa, as they were prominent in this area. He had long black hair, pulled back in a braid that hung down his back, well-muscled arms and broad shoulders enhanced by the tight black T-shirt he was wearing under his opened black leather jacket. The shirt was tucked into a pair of black jeans, which molded his narrow waist and strong, muscled, long legs. His features were so strong and prominent, Hope almost felt as if she were looking at an ancient warrior. The only thing missing was a breech cloth and leggings, as opposed to the jeans.

The train left fifteen minutes ago.

How did he know what she was thinking? Then panic set in. Fifteen minutes ago? Oh no! What am I going to do? I have to be on that train. I am going to lose my job! How will I get out of here?

Whoa. It’s okay. I can drive you back to the Soo. We can even beat the train.

She looked up at him; his hands were still around her waist and she realized she should be pushing him away, but somehow she felt comfortable in his arms as he steadied her. She took a deep breath, and then took a step back.

How can I ever repay you? I would be most grateful and I am already in your debt for looking after me when I fainted. I have never done that before. I have no idea what came over me. However, I would appreciate your assistance.

Again, that smile. He wanted to kiss her right then, but she had pulled away from him and he let her do so. He could smell her fear of him, sense she was tense and nervous. He assumed she was worried about the train and getting back to the Soo. She spun around, almost startling him.

I’m so sorry. My manners, forgive me. My name is Hope. Hope Landers.

He took her proffered hand and brought it to his lips, his eyes never leaving hers. I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, Hope Landers.

Her hand tingled and her breath caught in her throat. Good God, but he was unbelievably handsome!

Wait here while I grab a few things. Then we can leave. He turned away and started walking towards the Agawa River.

Hope couldn’t help but watch his backside as he walked away. Those jeans hugged him. They made her wonder how luscious he would be without them. She wanted to be caressing them, squeezing them, her tongue licking his body. Hope shook her head.

Barely out of one bad relationship, the last thing you need is to start another one with a perfect stranger, she mumbled, and then added, But what a perfect stranger! Yum!

Raven had to smile to himself as he heard her whispered words. His hearing was exceptional, even in this human form.

I promise you, Hope Landers, I will be a stranger to you no longer, he whispered back, knowing that, unlike him, she would not hear his comment.

Twenty minutes later she heard the sound of a motorcycle. Moving to stand, she watched as Raven approached on his black-with-red-lines, custom-made Ducati Hypermotard. She didn’t know much about bikes, but she could tell expensive when she saw it. He removed his black helmet with black faceplate, and then reached inside the motorcycle’s seat and handed her a matching helmet to put on. She couldn’t help noticing the duffel bag squeezed inside the bike’s small compartment.

During the time she was waiting for Raven to return, her mind churned with hundreds of questions, tumbling out as soon as she saw him.

How come you are not on the train? Why do you have a motorcycle here? I thought this area was protected. How were you able to get a motorcycle here without the park rangers bothering you? Are there roads which come into the canyon for vehicles? Were you camping nearby? Is that why you have a duffel bag with you?

Raven smiled as the questions just tumbled forth one after the other without giving him an opportunity to reply before the next question was asked. When she stopped to catch her breath, he was finally able to respond to her inquiries.

I have a place on the other side of the river, which was left to me by my family. As a result, I have a bit more privilege than the average person. I have a cabin over there as well, so yes, I was staying over there for a bit. As for the duffel bag, well, I never go anywhere without it. It contains emergency supplies and I prefer to be prepared.

Just like a Boy Scout.

Yeah, just like a Boy Scout. We should beat the train back to the depot. It doesn’t take as long by highway as it does by train, once we get out of the canyon. Until then, you will need to hold on tight as the terrain is rather rough due to the lack of roads.

I know the highway is a bit of a distance away. I also remember the highway, once we get on it, is a shorter ride than the train, Hope replied as she tucked her hair in the helmet. A few years ago, there was a problem with the canyon train and we had to take it up to Hawk Junction, and then meet our motor-coach to drive us back. The ride along Lake Superior was beautiful and it took us a little under three hours to travel back to Sault Ste. Marie, much less time than it took to get there by train.

What is it you do? His deep, rich voice came in through speakers in her helmet.

I direct tours about the country. In the barest of descriptions, I take people on their vacations.

He wondered if she had someone in her life. Surely, someone who traveled for a living didn’t have time for someone special, yet he was still plagued by the idea. Being apart from them would be too hard, he would think. He knew he could never be separated from her, if given half the chance. As such, a thought came into his mind; he also remembered there was a time when he too traveled and was gone for long periods of time. He often left his wife behind while he went to fight. In the modern age, a woman traveling would probably be just as acceptable. Still, he had to know.

Doesn’t your significant other miss you when you are gone all the time?

Silence answered him and he wondered if she didn’t hear him. When he was about to ask again, her soft voice replied, I don’t have a significant other anymore. Traveling gives me the chance to… She paused a long moment before she added the last word. …hide.

She said it so softly he was unsure if he heard her correctly or