“Yes. George called again this morning to see if I’d like to have a date. I didn’t want to be rude or ignorant and…” she trailed off. “You see Meg, ever since you told me I’ve been wondering. Wondering just who was and wasn’t a shifter. I was thinking that I could run into them at a mall, or get my hair done by a wolfie hairdresser!” Angie said with a giggle. “I know it sounds silly or obsessive, but I just couldn’t stop thinking about it. We all dream about such things and reading all the latest books and such makes it so interesting,” she said.
“I know! I was the same way after I first started dating Luc. Never told him, but I kept trying to find ways to identify who was a wolf and who wasn’t. Never worked,” Meg admitted.
“So, what’s it like in bed with Luc?” asked Angie. She blushed bright red.
“To be honest, the first time he shifted, he scared the hell out of me,” said Meg.
“I remember you telling me about that, but what’s the sex like?” Angie asked.
“Very nice. I don’t know if it is just because he’s been brought up differently, or what, but damn it’s nice,” said Meg thinking about last night. She told Angie a few details as they ate.
“Mmmm, maybe it’s worth a chance then,” said Angie when Meg finished.
“I’d give it a try. Have to admit though that George’s size, just the sheer bulk of him, is a little intimidating to me,” said Meg. “Just be careful.”
“He’s tall and such, but that doesn’t bother me. Thanks for the chat. I have a phone call to make,” said Angie as she gathered up the trash and headed out the door.
Meg sat back in her chair and smiled. “I can’t wait until Luc gets back to the office!” she thougth.
*
The museum was interesting. Lots of ranching and coal mining displays. Ginny was amazed at the photos of women in corsets, long dresses and tiny heeled boots doing everything from ranch work, teaching and climbing mountains. She walked up to where Patrick was looking at a gun display.
“I can’t imagine working in the clothes the women had to wear back then,” she said.
“Nor can I, but just think of how difficult it was to be a shifter back then too. No wonder we tended to live in isolation,” he said.
“Gods! Some days I can barely get out of my bra fast enough. Can’t imagine trying to get out of a corset!” she said.
“No, and I bet if we dug up family photos, we’d find lots of women with no corsets,” he said as they moved down the aisle to the next display.
“You are probably right,” she said. “Wonder if more of us were killed then by accident than are now?”
“I wouldn’t think so. No cars, or nosy doctors. Better yet, no military trying to round us up for test studies,” he said.
“What?” asked Ginny,
“I’ll tell you more in the car. Here comes that little docent again to tell us how he worked some piece of machinery for the fifth time,” said Patrick.
“How are you doing folks?” asked the docent who must have been in his eighties.
“Just fine. Almost done. Thank you for a lovely tour sir,” said Ginny.
“Well, glad to be of assistance. I grew up in these mountains and I like being able to share with people who come to the museum,” the docent said.
“Thank you again,” said Patrick. The two of them shook hands with the docent and then headed out the door. The docent waved from the doorway of the museum.
“Patrick, was there anything odd about that old man, or am I just going ditzy?” asked Ginny.
“No, nothing wrong with your senses. If I am correct, somewhere back about two generations there is a wolf in the woodpile. He’s a null. One of those non-shifting wolves. You know, like that cousin you told me about,” he said. “Probably an eighth shifter or less.”
“You know, you’re right. Poor old guy probably wonders why he was always stronger or faster than his peers,” said Ginny.
“Exactly. Genetics are interesting when it comes to a null. Wonder if Dr. Jeff keeps records?” mulled Patrick.
“No idea. Now what was this about military and test studies?” she asked as they headed over a pass to the next museum.
Patrick sighed. “I wasn’t always an economist. I enlisted when I was eighteen. Stooooopid idea! I made it through basic and then got asked if I wanted to do special ops. I agreed. The idea of being a Ranger sounded good. I started going through the training and about half way through, they send you out on a survival trip. A week in an area you aren’t familiar with and you have to get from point A to point B,” he said.
“Okay, so how was that a bad thing?” she asked.
“I came back eight pounds heavier,” he said.
“So? Why was that a problem?” she asked.
“Most guys come back starved. Ten pounds less, and looking like shit. So, they figured I cheated some how. They sent me back out again, and this time, I had a buddy. We had to survive together,” Patrick said. He turned onto a side street following the signs to the fort they were going to visit. He parked the car and turned to face Ginny.
“I take it you didn’t starve,” she said.
“No, but about an hour into the hike, the buddy, a sargent stopped me and said that we needed to talk,” said Patrick.
“Okay, quit with the suspense,” said Ginny.
“He looked at me and said, ‘Grunt, are you a shifter?’ I was rather startled and started to deny it. Then he growled at me sub-vocally and let his eyes shift from gray-green to yellow as I stood there staring at him. I answered ‘YES SIR’ about two seconds later,” said Patrick.
“Shit! That must have been one hell of a shock,” said Ginny.