Coyote

By Clyde Hedges

All hell is about to break loose in Greersville, Nevada. Unknown to Ezekiel Greer, a giant, genetically altered coyote has led his pack into Greer Valley. When one of Ezekiel's giant sheep dogs kills the coyote's mate, he goes beserk, and wreaks a revenge that no one would have thought possible. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Clyde Hedges
• Release date: Apr 25, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386256717

Clyde Hedges

Clyde Hedges was born and raised in Evansville, Indiana. Upon graduation from high school, Clyde enlisted in the army. While stationed in New England, he met his wife Marion. After mustering out, Clyde attended Fitchburg State Teachers College where he majored in secondary education with an emphasis in English and History. Clyde, Marion, and their daughter Stacy settled in Evansville where Clyde taught history and economics. Stacy's health forced them to relocate to Las Vegas where Clyde and Marion taught for 23 years. They are now retired and live in Reno near their daughter Kelly and son-in-law John and their grandson Carrick, whom they dote upon continually.

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Prologue

John Newsome adjusted his helmet lamp and glanced at his pack burro, Gloria. He had hobbled her in the shade of the boulders with ample food and water. Still he felt nervous and uneasy. Not about leaving Gloria or descending the abandoned shaft in front of him, but about the two coyote pups he had shot an hour before.

He had seen them scampering in the wash, as all pups will do, and he’d grabbed his rifle and killed the scavenger bastards. At first, he felt good. He always enjoyed killing coyotes, and then suddenly a deep sense of dread descended upon him. Since then, he hadn’t been able to shake it.

Again, he considered repacking Gloria and heading up the wash to the small settlement ten miles north. Greersville, he believed it was called. Like the abandoned mine, it wasn't registered on most Nevada maps. He frowned and shook his head.

Finding the abandoned mine had been pure happenstance. Now its dark shaft loomed before him. He found it too tempting to leave. With the price of gold what it was, he could make millions. No, he would explore it even if he felt uneasy.

Staring ahead, he flicked on his headlamp and started down the shaft. His footsteps echoed on the hard-packed earth as the cool air enveloped him. He looked back over his shoulder at Gloria who foraged in the shade.

He regretted killing the pups. Not in all his life had he felt so distraught. It was as if gloom and dread were everywhere. He had no explanation for it. He had shot many animals in the desert: hares, snakes, wild horses, and when he could, coyotes. Usually, the wily bastards fled at the sight of a rifle, and usually coyote pups remained in their dens. These hadn't, and he had dropped them both at a hundred yards.

He continued down the dark shaft for almost twenty yards and then rounded a bend and shined his headlamp along the walls of the mine. He stopped when he saw two lumps, a foot above his head, a sure sign of nuggets or gems.

His sense of dread disappeared. Gems or nuggets that large could provide income for several years. He was just reaching for them when Gloria brayed down the shaft. He stopped dead in his tracks, the gems forgotten. Again, Gloria brayed, only louder and more desperately. John cocked his rifle and started back to the surface. 

At a dead run, he emerged from the shaft into the small clearing. For a second the sudden sunlight blinded him. Then he almost screamed. Swarming over Gloria were a dozen coyotes, gnawing and biting at her as she fought desperately to break free, and not one sound did any of them make – not the slightest growl. 

He started to raise his rifle, but stopped when a pain sliced from the base of his skull to his forehead. He grunted and stepped back and rubbed at it. Another pain hit him and his knees buckled.

He turned to see what was behind him. Sitting on a large boulder overlooking the mine entrance were two giant coyotes, the largest he had ever seen. It was impossible for any coyote to be that large. He knew that for sure.

Another pain hit him, and he dropped to his knees like a stricken fighter. Kneeling he tried again to aim his rifle. As he did, the largest coyote leaped. In seconds, the only sound was the wind whistling up the empty wash. 

Chapter 1

There is some-thing in the wash, Aar-on. Shad-ow feels it, and so do I, Jeff Greer told his older brother Aaron. Slobber dribbled from the corners of Jeff's lopsided mouth. Aaron turned away and selected a small pebble.

With an imperceptible stroke of his wrist, he flipped it. The small stone arched perfectly, and then grazed a wandering ram's nose. The young male bleated and scurried back to the flock. Aaron looked again at Jeff.

In sharp contrast to his perfectly built brother, Jeff was lopsided and malformed. Intended as identical twins, his mother's egg had not split and Jeff had been born a single soul trapped inside two disjointed bodies. He now stood six-five or six, depending on which side their father measured. 

Wipe your mouth, Jeff. Try not to get excited and you won't slobber so much.

I am sor-ry, Jeff said as he rubbed his face with his shirtsleeve, But the thing is dan-ger-ous.

––––––––

Aaron flipped another rock, this time at a desert sparrow. So stealthily did he launch the stone that the bird did not take flight until it brushed his tail feathers.

Aaron shrugged. What do you mean dangerous, and what do you and Shadow feel?

Last night, I did not feel an-y-thing. Shad-ow did. He was ver-y ner-vous, but I felt noth-ing. This morn-ing though, I took Shad-ow  back to the wash. He was worse, and my head be-gan to hurt.

You didn't feel anything last night, but you got a headache this morning? Aaron questioned him. You never get headaches.

Jeff nodded. Yes, you are right, but last night I did not know what to think, so Shad-ow and I left.

Yeah, just in time to interrupt Jo and me, Aaron said.

He tossed another pebble before turning back to Jeff. All right, tell me what happened.

I am sor-ry, Aar-on. I did not mean...

Skip it, Jeff. Tell me what you felt.

Jeff nodded and began again. This morn-ing, we climbed in-to the wash. This time I was ner-vous too. I felt like Shad-ow and I were in a dark room, and some-one was star-ing at us. It was like it was in-side our heads. My hands sweat and Shad-ow's fur brist-les. Shad-ow is ner-vous. He does not know what to think.

Aaron reached out and scratched the giant dog’s ear. His tail thumped at Aaron's touch, and he raised his head and licked his hand.

Jeff, I love Shadow almost as much as you, but he’s scared. Yesterday, Nick and Laddie got into another scrap. This one got pretty ugly. It took four of us to pull Nick off. Then I had to beat him away with my staff. Somehow, he’s scared Shadow.

Jeff toyed with a stick, waiting for Aaron to finish. You do not un-der-stand, do you? Nick does not scare Shad-ow. Shad-ow scares Nick.

Aaron flipped another stone and hit the middle leaf of a yucca plant. Nick wasn't scared yesterday, and Laddie is the second toughest dog I've ever known, and Shadow is the gentlest. He’s just scared, Jeff.

Jeff started to reply, but was interrupted by their second cousin Gene who stood fifty yards from them. Jeff, send Shadow out to the sheep. He’s been away all morning, he yelled.

Tall and blonde like every member of the Greer clan, Gene was actually heavier than Aaron, though not nearly so quick and strong. Aaron saw the scowl on Gene's face and grew irritated.

Hurry up, Jeff. Let Shadow go. He needs to earn his keep.

I had bet-ter leave. I don't want Gene mad at Shad-ow.

Aaron shook his head and stood. Their father and Jo might yell at Jeff, but he wouldn’t allow anyone else. The flock’s all right, Gene. We’ll send Shadow out if he’s needed, he yelled.

You know what Zeb said about the missing sheep, Aaron. We need to have Shadow helping with the flock, Gene yelled back.

I’ll take full responsibility, Gene. Leave Shadow alone.

Gene stood for a moment, glaring at Aaron, and then sat.

What did Gene mean about Un-cle Zeb? Jeff asked Aaron.

Oh, he showed up a while ago, yelling that we were short a lamb and an ewe on the morning count. Aaron waved toward the over-sized merinos grazing in front of them. This has to be the largest flock in Northern Nevada, maybe all of America, and Uncle Zeb throws a fit because we're short an ewe and a lamb.

We ne-ver lose sheep, Aa-ron. Some-thing is wrong, Jeff pointed out.

Aaron shook his head disgustedly. Yeah, Uncle Zeb is what's wrong. It took an hour to convince him that the computer malfunctioned. We'll take a new count tonight and everything will be all right. You wait and see.

You said a lamb and an ewe were miss-ing?

Yeah, that's all.

Do you think some-thing took them last night?

How could anything get a hundred-pound ewe over a five-foot fence without waking the dogs.

Jeff struggled to his feet. Some-thing took the sheep, and it is in the wash. Shad-ow and I must find it.

Jeff shoved his staff into the ground and turned from Aaron. Immediately, Shadow was on his feet following. Aaron frowned and looked after them. He really didn't want Jeff to leave. He was good company, and he'd promised Jo.

Jeff, Aaron called.  Jeff turned back to Aaron.

Listen, buddy, Jo and I have a date tonight. Would you please not bring Shadow out by the canyon?

Jeff's shaggy blonde eyebrows arched over his unbalanced eyes. Do not take Jo to the des-ert, Aar-on. It is not safe.

Aaron frowned. Last night, he was just slipping Jo's bra straps from her shoulders when Shadow came prancing out of the night. Jo screamed and sat up and began to slap at the dog. But the silly mutt thought she was playing and began to dart in between her blows to lick at her face. Despite himself, Aaron smiled.

It was a comic scene at best. Jo would fumble with the buttons on her dress and then stop and yell and smack Shadow, but the damn dog wouldn't quit. And Aaron knew well that Jo packed a powerful wallop. Only when he heard Jeff's scraping footsteps did he rise and drag Shadow to the front of the Jeep where he intercepted his brother.

In a moment, Jo joined them, her clothes disarrayed, and her temper boiling. Shadow began to bark and prance again, and Jo began to yell. Jeff understood, and he mumbled a quick apology and left with Shadow behind him. But their fun for the evening was ruined.

We never had problems before last night, Jeff. Come on, give us some privacy.

No, no, Aar-on. The des-ert is not safe.  I will not prom-ise. Take Jo to the feed shack. You will be safe there.

It's too close to Jo's house.

Good, you will be saf-er.

Aaron considered what Jeff suggested. Unpleasant memories lingered from last April, but the shack would give them privacy. Also, they could walk from Jo's house, and he wouldn't have to borrow their father's Jeep.

All right, if it bothers you that much, I'll take her to the shack, but leave us alone.

Shad-ow and I will not walk by there. For a moment, Jeff looked at his brother, his face grotesque, but impassive. Then he turned and started again for the desert. Aaron watched him hobble along, using the thick oak staff Uncle Zeb gave him the year before. He was so lonely, his only friend the dim-witted mutt who walked behind him.

Hey, Jeff, Aaron yelled.

Jeff stopped and turned. Shadow stopped too.

Did you say that this terrible presence is in the wash?

Yes.

After our date, Jo wanted to go to the meeting, but maybe you and Shadow and I could go hunting. Between the three of us, we should be able to find this terrible menace.

Jeff smiled and slobber dribbled from his mouth. Thank you. Shad-ow and I would like the help.

Okay, meet me around eight by Jo's barn. I'm not promising anything.  If she doesn't mind, I'll go hunting with you, and she can go to the meeting.

All right, I will see you then.

Jeff turned, and Aaron selected another pebble and began to search for an errant sheep. What neither of them noticed was that after Jeff and Shadow walked a hundred yards, the huge dog stopped and looked back at the flock.

For a moment, he stood stiff and rigid, his massive muscles bulging around his chest and shoulders. He glanced toward Jeff who lurched fifty yards ahead of him. With another glance at the flock, he started after Jeff. This morning he would not allow his master to walk alone in the desert.

*****

Ten miles due south of Greersville, Drs. Thomas Cramer and Robert Morgan of the Nevada Animal Institute looked somberly at the remains of a partially eaten burro. Each held a rifle, ready to fire at the slightest provocation.

Circling them and the partially eaten body was a flock of turkey vultures, their faces inclined toward the body, eyeing it hungrily. One grew brave and flapped its wings and began to scramble toward them. Morgan picked a rock and heaved it. The scavenger screeched loudly and retreated to its perch. 

They’re only performing nature’s duty, Bob Dr. Cramer said.

We’re a fine pair to be talking about nature, Morgan commented dryly.

What do you make of it? Cramer asked.

Morgan prodded Gloria's rear leg with his foot. You’re right. He's using the wash to conceal his movements. I just wonder why he attacked a pack burro.

Cramer scratched at his unshaven cheek. Like Morgan, he was positive their coyote had killed the unfortunate animal, but why had he buried it so clumsily?

Do you feel anything, Bob? Cramer asked as Morgan stared at the burro.

No, Tom, not a thing.

Cramer hastily searched the rocks but saw only vultures.

We need help, Tom, Morgan said. We can't search Northern Nevada by ourselves. We have no trail to follow, no leads, no evidence except for this burro.

Cramer shook his head. Bob, we're going to have to go it alone awhile longer. We move faster that way.

Tom, if the Under-Secretary won't help, then we should go to the state authorities.

A vulture screeched and flapped its wings. Cramer selected a rock and threw it at the bird. He missed by a foot, but hit an unintended victim. No, Bob, that won't work. We'd get too many people involved, and then there would be questions to answer.

Morgan prodded again at Gloria’s remains and looked up. The sun slanted in the western sky, and there was only a slight breeze to ease the heat and the putrid odor.

What do you propose then?

Bob, we're no more than twelve miles from where the wash begins, but a mile from here a smaller arroyo leads east. If I know our coyote, he’ll take the smaller arroyo to the eastern canyons. With a little luck, we could head him off before tomorrow evening. Then this horror will end.

It will have ended a little late for the burro.

That can't be helped.

Morgan grimaced. Yeah, well what if this burro belonged to someone?

Cramer's forehead furrowed into deep wrinkles. Obviously, with its hobbled legs, it did - some old prospector or spelunker. But we don't have time to search for him. Our main goal is to get to the canyons and work our way back until we find our coyote.

Are you sure?

Cramer shook his head. I'm not sure about anything, Bob. I'm just doing what I believe is best.

Slowly, Morgan nodded. As he did, another vulture swooped from a higher rock to land on the ground. It began to advance, its beak open, screeching wildly. Cramer bent and tossed another rock, and the vulture retreated.

What if he's headed north into that valley?

We'll have to take that chance. I've studied the map carefully and there are no settlements registered there. Only empty country from here to the mountains.

Maybe we should check and make sure. It won't take but an hour.

An hour we don't have, Bob. I'd like to make it to the first canyons before sundown and find a trail to the floor. We can begin searching in the morning. If we don't find anything, we'll start back, reconnoiter the valley, and then decide if we should ask for help.

Morgan pointed to the burro. What should we do with it?

Cramer gestured toward the vultures surrounding them. Let them have it, he replied.

The vets shouldered their Winchesters and turned from Gloria and started toward their Land Rover, parked at the reaches of the clearing. They hadn't walked five yards when the first vulture swooped down to begin its meal.

*****

Ezekiel Greer peered through his telescope and adjusted its aperture. After taking inventory at his store this morning and visiting with Dory, he'd gone to his prayer tower to study the book, and then Greersville.

His tower gave him vantage of the entire valley. Nothing in Greer Valley moved without his notice, and if night viewing were required, he had an array of infrared filters and lenses. Now he watched as his second son lurched toward the wash while his dog poked beside him. Two hundred yards behind them five coyotes followed, skirting from bush to bush.

Ezekiel wasn't concerned. If the coyotes did grow so foolish as to attack, he harbored no doubts Shadow would kill them all. He was that big and strong, more than a match for Nick if he ever cared to confront him.

Three years before, he’d purchased an expensive litter of Rottweilers when he saw that Zeb's giant sheep needed larger dogs to control them. A week after procuring the pups, he began injecting them with growth hormone. All four had grown to superbly muscled giants, and Jeff's dog was the finest of them all.

Anybody could approach and pet him. He'd even seen children gathered around him, scratching his chest and stomach while he lay flat on his back, moaning with pleasure. Who could be blamed if they thought such a dog retarded and simple, but thinking so took Shadow far too lightly.

Early last March Micah had reported that a bull had grown randy over the winter. 

Don’t worry, Micah, I’ll take care of him tomorrow, he told him. And that he did.

While Jeff and Zeb worked with the breeding ewes, he took Shadow bull hunting. Actually, Shadow thought it was all great fun, and after they located him, he began to chase the much larger animal, nipping and biting at his legs. The enraged bull charged repeatedly, but Shadow only barked and danced away, infuriating the bull even more.

Not until he turned and started toward him did Shadow grow serious. Then, he chased the far larger animal down and tumbled him to the ground. Once there, he held him until he bellowed submission. Yet what did he do with all that grace and power but follow Jeff around in the desert doing whatever he bid.

Disgustedly, Ezekiel shifted his sights to his second son. He continued hitching along, heading for the wash. Lurch would have been a more fitting name, though Hollywood had never created a character so gruesome as Jeff - only Ruth had.

Ezekiel stood, frowned, and capped his lens. Five minutes was all he could ever stand. He sat again and reached into his lower desk drawer and withdrew a large, leather bound book. In it was recorded the genetic history of every member of the clan.

Family genealogies, spouses, growth rates, life expectancies, illnesses, IQ's, physical traits, mental alertness, all of it, he regularly measured and noted. It was from these facts that he arranged marriages and births. Because of this book the clan had prospered and would eventually change the world, for the clan had been a colossal success - except for Jeff.

Slowly, deliberately, Ezekiel turned to Jeff's page. For the last eighteen years he'd given this page extra scrutiny, studying it for hours at a time, along with any articles on genetics he could locate. He'd even considered opening a web site or buying a subscription to National Science Foundation so he might peruse the latest discoveries on the Internet. There had to be an answer, and he intended to find it.

Beauty and the beast, he muttered as he thought of Jeff and his dog. The only problem was deciding who was the beast. 

Chapter 2

The giant coyote stood against the feed shack, his front paws pressed against the sides of the window, staring in at Jo and Aaron. They lay together on top of their makeshift bed of bags, blankets, and pillows they had secreted from home.

Though he hated them, the coyote normally shunned two-legged animals. They had killed his pups and wounded his bitch. At the moment, thirty of his males lay concealed behind and under the brush and cactus dotting the desert. Even as he watched Aaron and Jo, he controlled them, commanding them to remain silent and alert.

It was the female, the mate of the strongest male, who lured him. Her overpowering scent was more than he could resist. Never before had he smelled such an enticing female. She reminded him so much of his bitch who now waited for him in the wash, watching the females and pups. 

Inside the shack, Aaron ran his hand up Joann’s leg and began to trace circles on her lower abdomen. She reached to stop him. Twice is enough, Aaron, she whispered.

Come on, Jo. We're alone, no one will bother us, he whispered back.

She kissed him lightly, but pulled away. The moonlight splashed across her breasts making her look like a golden goddess. We have plenty of time before the meeting starts, he whispered.

Joann wriggled from his grasp and sat on the edge of the bags. Last night you said we wouldn't be disturbed, and then Jeff barged in on us.

Aaron sat beside her and began to kiss her neck. I took care of Jeff. He's not going to bother us.

Again, she pushed him away. No, Aaron. I don't intend to get caught. Remember what your father did to Emily, and she was only walking in the desert.

Aaron frowned and leaned back on his elbows. For two days last April, pert, saucy Emily Harris had sat in the stocks behind the temple suffering under the desert sun.  Almost as bad as the heat, was her humiliation.

Though only nineteen, Emily already had a toddler at home, and a young husband who hadn't suspected anything was wrong with their marriage. Yet, the day before, Ezekiel had stood in the temple's pulpit and denounced her to the clan.

Following the service, Emily met with the elders and sentence was passed, five days pillaring under the hot desert sun. At one, the following afternoon, while the clan watched, Ezekiel escorted Emily to the wooden stocks that stood behind the temple.

Bob Simmons and Zebediah each took an elbow and helped her sit upon the wooden bench and then removed her bonnet and locked her in place. Emily adjusted her wrists and legs, seeking comfort. Finding none, she scooted forward on the hard bench, attempting to relieve the pressure on her hips and shoulders.

The bench tipped precariously, and Zebediah steadied it before whispering to Emily that if she slipped from the bench, broken ankles and wrists would result. Emily nodded and stared at the rough pine planks that reflected the afternoon heat onto her face. 

In less than thirty minutes, she slumped forward. Aaron looked to Emily's husband Tom and then Jo, wondering what he should do when the rear door of the temple creaked open. Everyone turned to see Jeff carrying a pail of water, limping toward the stocks.

On the platform, he knelt beside Emily and lifted a dipper so she might drink. Seeing only the water, Emily gulped it down. Jeff refilled the dipper, and she drank just as eagerly. One more cup he allowed her. Then, standing above her, he poured water over her head and neck and rubbed the moisture into her sunburned skin and scalp.

Finishing, he removed a sunbonnet from his pocket and placed it over her head and tied it around her chin. Next, he wetted a towel and covered her neck and shoulders.

Already, Ezekiel was climbing the stairs to confront him. Quickly, he ripped the bonnet from Emily's head and threw it to the platform floor. Jeff picked it up, and replaced it. He stood erect, and his father slapped his disjointed face.

Jeff blinked and then looked evenly at his father. Ezekiel raised his hand and slapped his son again. Jeff offered no defense and said nothing before bending again and offering Emily another dipper of water. She drank and mumbled a hoarse thanks before Jeff replaced the bonnet and then returned to the temple.

The act repeated itself on Tuesday with Emily suffering, and Ezekiel slapping Jeff whenever he brought her water and a bonnet. On Wednesday, Greersville awoke to learn that someone had dismantled the stocks.

Joann leaned next to Aaron. Who do you think she was meeting? she asked.

Aaron shrugged. What do you mean?

I know Emily better than anyone, and she never mentioned that she was unhappy.

Aaron slipped from the sacks to stand on the hard dirt floor. I wasn't worried about whom she was meeting. I just hated to see Dad slap Jeff when he took her water.

Is that why you tore the stocks up after the second day? Jo asked.

Aaron began to grope in the dark for his clothes. Who says I tore up the stocks?

Oh, Aaron, everybody knows it was you.  Your father would have turned Greersville upside down if he suspected anyone else.

Aaron stood straight to pull on his shirt. Did it ever occur to you that Dad was relieved to find the stocks ruined? Don't you think he hated slapping Jeff and watching Emily suffer? Maybe he tore the stocks up? He didn't like punishing Emily any more than you and the rest of the clan liked watching. He just did what he believed was right. It's important that we remain faithful to one another, or we'll break apart and destroy everything the Prophet planned.

Jo's eyes flashed angrily. Yeah, it's important that we remain faithful, Aaron, but the Leader is your father, and he treats you differently. He wasn't concerned about Emily. He only cared about the commandments, and Jeff didn’t believe your father would slap him if he took Emily water. Then once he started, he couldn't back down. 

Aaron stared at Jo's partially lighted figure. He knew what Dad would do. You better believe he knew. And since Emily's your friend, why didn't you take her water? Emily didn't mind Jeff when she was in the stocks. She liked him then. Why didn't you, or Tom, or her other friends help her? 

We were scared, Jo admitted.

Aaron nodded and slipped into his trousers. Yeah, you were scared, I was scared, and Tom was scared. Everyone was scared except Jeff who couldn’t back down once he started, and you're right; it's time to leave.

Joann stared as Aaron leaned against the sacks to pull on his right boot. His back muscles loosened and flexed like a stalking lion. I'm sorry, Aaron.  I was only worried that we'd get caught.

Aaron waved his hand. It's okay, Jo. But you're right. We should be going.

She slid from the sacks and reached for him, but he'd already turned to search for her clothes.

****

In the shadows of the Simmons's barn, Jeff leaned his lopsided back against the wall. Shadow sat beside him. All afternoon, they had hunted, and Shadow was his old self until they neared the wash. Then, he grew nervous and agitated. Just before sunset, he tested him again, and once more Shadow grabbed his trouser legs and pulled until the fabric ripped. 

He looked toward the feed shack and relaxed when he saw Aaron slip from the entrance. For a moment he stood next to the shack and checked all directions. Then he reopened the door and beckoned for Joann.  As Jeff watched, they started down the path leading directly to Jo's house. Jeff sat straighter and grew alert.

Aaron was walking so rapidly that Jo had to run to stay with him. Something was bothering Aaron. This evening Aaron and Shadow were both nervous. In a few minutes they would be at Jo’s house, and he’d find out what was wrong. Until then he and Shadow would watch.

****

Emily Harris sat at her dresser applying the finishing touches of her lipstick. Most clan women shunned such frivolities, but she felt that a gentle touch of cinnamon brought out her eyes and hair, so she wore a light coating when the mood moved her, and since last April it had moved her a great deal.

The door opened behind her and Tom entered, dressed in his boots, slacks, and shirt - casual but respectful as meeting night demanded. He walked across the room and bent and kissed the back of her neck while she stared at the mirror. She wore only her petticoat and bra, and Tom thought her stunning in the dim light of the bedroom, a room they had only slept in for the past two months.

Get my green dress from the closet, Tom, she told him.

He bent and kissed her neck again. You look so beautiful, Sweetheart, so very beautiful, he whispered to her.

Emily shrugged him away. Get my dress, Tom. Make yourself useful, not a pest.

Tom stood straight. Emily, it's been more than two months.

She finished the last touches of her makeup and looked up at him. Tom, it's meeting night. I don't think we should think of ourselves and our desires on meeting night, do you?

Without waiting for a reply, she walked to the closet, selected her green cotton dress, and slipped it over her head. Adjusting it, she turned and motioned for Tom to zip her up.

He did as she signaled, but then took her shoulders and turned her to face him. She was tall, like all the clan women, five-ten, but Tom towered over her, six-six, and as strong and agile as a mountain lion.

When, Emily? I'm your husband. What have I done to make you hate me so much?

Emily looked up at him. She thought him so handsome with his rich blonde hair and dark blue eyes. For years she'd loved him. Since adolescence, she'd known he was the only man who could make her happy. No other man interested her.

Yes, she danced wildly and laughed loudly and lifted her skirts as she paraded around the dance floor, but only for his attention, only so Tom would notice her. And when the elders made their decision and allowed them to marry, she couldn't have been happier - until last April.