The Heart and the Wild

 Hank knew there were two ladies on his doorstep before they knocked on his door. One had an overpowering scent of lavender and chemicals, while the other had used a basic deodorant. One had a clomping, excited step while the other was more controlled, but heavier.

And, of course, the lovely scent of perfectly baked chocolate chip cookies. A lot of them.

“Ah, werewolf senses. Nothing like ‘em,” he mused. He had to remind himself to wait until they knocked before going to the door. Any strange behavior would be met with suspicion. He was not with the pack anymore.

That thought brought a touch of homesickness to his heart. He had been part of one of the larger packs in North America, numbering close to thirty members. But that was one of the problems. To survive in this day and age, packs could not get very big. It was a security hazard. Though he had been third in line, a loyal member for close to thirty years, and best friends with the second for just as long, the pack leader had to send off several members. Hank was not as close to the others that were sent off. They decided to make their own pack without Hank up in the northeast portion of the state.

Hank was left with one option; create his own pack. And he needed a mate to start. So he packed his many belongings and headed west. He came to quickly despise the Californian attitude and lack of wooded wilderness, so he packed up again and headed north to Oregon. He avoided Portland like the plague and settled in a quiet suburb several miles east of the city. It had quick and easy access to a highway that led to Mount Hood National Park.

Dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a vintage Warren Zevon t-shirt, he opened the door and was surprised to be presented with two very good options. Standing side-by-side, they were within an inch of each other, about five and a half feet tall. He could automatically tell they were sisters, from their facial structure and body language to their individual pheromones. They had anywhere between five and ten years difference between them. It was obvious to him that the sister holding the cookies was the older, more mature one.

And not just in physicality. She carried herself with a level of self-confidence that the other sister lacked. Both women had bright blue eyes that conveyed there were sharp minds behind them. They both had an air of education about them, but the younger one seemed flighty and prone to distraction. The three of them had barely spent three seconds together and she had checked her phone in as many seconds, while the older one’s gaze was set on Hank.

There was the obvious difference between them; the younger one was in much better physical shape. And she had dressed to impress that fact. She was wearing a cropped pink hoodie that showed off her toned abdomen and a matching pair of sweatpants that accentuated her natural curves. Putting her long blonde hair into a ponytail, plus the make-up she was wearing, highlighted her angular facial structure and high cheekbones. There was no doubt she was a beautiful woman.

The one holding the cookies had the body of someone that had quit exercising some time ago and had given up on dressing to impress even further back. Clothed in a three-quarter sleeve black shirt and tight jeans, she had gotten dressed for herself, rather than someone else. Though over sixty years old, Hank still did not understand women’s sizing, but if he had to guess, she was verging on having to shop in the plus size section. However, her size did not in any way detract from her own natural beauty. Sans make-up, she had let her own darker blonde locks fall to frame her soft angelic face.

“Howdy, ladies,” Hank said in his natural Texan drawl.

“Oh, a southern boy,” the younger blonde said. “I like that.” She winked at Hank.

“Lucy!” hissed the other one, giving her a scathing, critical look. “Manners, for, like, five seconds, please!”

“It’s alright,” Hank said with a chuckle. “May I ask what brings you to my place?”

“We wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood,” the one with the cookies said as she handed him the ceramic container. “I’m Erin and this is my younger sister, Lucy.”

“We live across the way,” Lucy said, giving a half-hearted wave over her shoulder towards the house across the street. “Hope you like chocolate chip. It’s the only cookie she knows how to make.”

Hank nodded approvingly to Erin. “In point of fact, they are my favorite.” He noted a smile of appreciation on her soft lips.

He looked her over again. Though it was obvious she was battling the bulge, she did not let that hold her back. She had a natural beauty about her. Hank had to get to know her better.

“Please, would you like to come inside? I’m new to the area and could use some tips and tricks to get around.”

“We would love it, bu-” Erin started.

“But nothing!” Lucy said, nudging Erin’s arm. “The nice man has invited us in and I told Kayla we would be here, just in case,” she added with smug satisfaction.

Hank tried to put on as friendly of a smile as he could. “I promise, under the rules of hospitality, nothing untoward will happen to you here.”

The sisters exchanged a look between them. Hank had a half second to think, “Oh, no,” before Lucy busted out in a fit of giggles.

“You’re weird which, for this area, is just perfect.”

Hank stepped back and allowed them entrance into his home. It was a modest place; three bed, two bath, open floor design in a single story house. It was a comfortable home, perfect for what he had planned. The place was covered in boxes, both opened and not. Various personal items were strewn about.

They followed him to the kitchen where he deposited the cookie container on the small bar that separated the kitchen from the living area. He grabbed one as he said, “Welcome to my home. Sorry for the mess. I’m still… figuring out how I want it all setup.”

Erin laughed a little. “It’s fine, really. We understand.”

Lucy walked into his living room and peered into a box he had left on his coffee table. “So, you like wolves, huh?”

“Like is such a… passive word,” Hank said with a sly grin, sidestepping the question. He owned a lot of wolf décor and memorabilia. Most of his home was furnished with some aspect of a wolf instilled into it. Paintings, lamp posts, and busts, plus claw-ended sofas and chairs, just to name a few items.

“So, what are you, some sort of wolfman?” Lucy tittered. She threw in monster stance and growled a little.

“I study them and lead conservation efforts,” Hank said easily, dodging that loaded question. “I’m a leading expert on them. My studies and a pack have brought me here to Oregon. The pack is in the national park, of course. Not ‘here’ here.”

Lucy raised her eyebrows at Erin, who ignored her. Hank could tell Erin was fascinated by the painting Hank had just hung above the mantle piece. It was of his pack, right before they had to split up. The pack leader had paid an aspiring artist to come out and paint them. Poor kid just about wet himself when he saw the pack, but the money kept him at the easel.

“Just like the good ol’ days,” he had said. Considering he was from before the colonies had broken away from the English empire, it made sense. The painting Hank had was a reprint, given to him as a parting gift.

“Look at how natural and relaxed they are in their habitat. They’re so beautiful,” Erin said enraptured. She turned back to look at Hank and that is when he saw it in her blue eyes; the call of the wolf inside her. That was when he knew she would be his. Given time and proper courting, of course. And the truth. Even then, she would have to choose.

“For a bunch of wild dogs that kill cattle, sure,” Lucy said sarcastically.

Hank bristled at her words and almost choked on his cookie. “They don’t kill cattle. That’s a terrible myth that ranchers and farmers have used for years to hunt down my...” He almost said “kind,” which would have generated a lot of tough questions. He coughed to cover his mistake. “Uhh… these gorgeous creatures. Do you have any idea how close to extinction mankind has brought them? All in the name of progress and greed?”

Lucy threw her hands up defensively. “Whoa, whoa, alright Captain Planet. Geez, no need to bite my head off.”

Hank took a steadying breath. “Of course. My apologies.” He turned back to Erin and said much more casually, “This is very good. Thank you for sharing them with me.”

Erin smile broadly. “Thank you. I’ve… been practicing. As a hobby.” He noted she talked with her hands a fair bit.

“Well, it certainly has paid off,” he responded.

A moment of silence hung between the two as they stood smiling at each other. Hank could see Lucy roll her eyes in his peripheral vision.

“Damn it,” she muttered bitterly under her breath. Then she overly projected in a sugary tone, “Well, thank you so much for letting us take a look around. The other neighbors will be by at some point, I’m sure. Erin, we need to get back to the house.”

“Why?” Erin asked dreamily, not taking her eyes off Hank. He did not mind the look she was giving him. Something had awakened in her.

Lucy crossed the room and stood between Hank and Erin. The wolf inside Hank growled at being denied something both parts of him wanted. He did his best to rein it back in.

“Cause… well, cause I need your help with something,” she said as she pushed her big sister towards the door.

“Let me walk you out,” Hank said, following them. “And I’d love to get your number, Erin.”

“Tell you what, I’ll raise you,” Erin said over her shoulder as Lucy started pushing her out. “Be ready at six-thirty. I know a great place back in the city that you just have to try.”

“It’s a deal!” Hank called after her from the door. He stood at the door and watched Erin go, enjoying the view.

“Oregon was a great idea,” he said to himself with a smile.