Running with Wolves. Cynthia Cooke

into the hardware store.

      “Good morning, Shay,” Mr. Henderson said from behind the counter. “You know, it’s not sunny out.”

      Shay smiled and took off the dark shades she never went without these days. She couldn’t take the chance. Without them she’d be distracted and sometimes scared by the colors, but Mr. Henderson was okay. She already knew what his colors were, yellow and blue and happy.

      She took a deep breath and looked around her. Luckily no one else was in the store. “I need another tube of Spackle.”

      “More? What are you doing up there?” Astonishment raised his voice, and his grayish-green eyes bulged a little under salt-and-pepper brows.

      “Grams’s place must be on a fault line. Cracks keep forming in the walls, especially on the east side of the house.”

      He crinkled his already heavily lined forehead, creating fissures as deep as the ones in her walls. “You might want to get someone out there to look at the foundation.”

      “I will,” she said to appease him. And she would as soon as she got the money, which wouldn’t be anytime soon. “Thanks, Mr. Henderson.” She took the Spackle and headed toward the door.

      “Let me know if you need any help out there, okay?” Concern softened his voice.

      She smiled, and wished not for the first time that Grams could have seen how much he’d cared for her, that they could have spent her last few years together. No one should live their life alone like Grams had.

      Shay waved, slid the glasses back on and placed her iPod’s earbuds in her ears as she left the shop and hurried down the street to Annie’s Fresh Farm Grocery Store. Like so many stores in the village, the white clapboard two-story was adorned with flowers and antiques that made the building look charming instead of old and run-down. Annie’s was a little overpriced, but it was better than driving to the large chain store down the highway. Besides, how much did one girl and her dog need?

      Shay picked up a dozen fresh organic brown eggs and placed them in her basket, then perused the spinach and tomatoes before adding them to the eggs. As she picked up an avocado and gave it a gentle squeeze, the small hairs on her nape prickled—the telltale sensation that someone was watching her again.

      Without making it obvious, she glanced around her, holding her breath and hoping she was wrong. For the past couple of weeks, she’d barely been able to leave the house without running into some kind of problem. Not just the uncomfortable sensation of someone’s attention, which usually meant trouble, but suddenly people glowed. Everyone was surrounded by colors, some bright, some dull, some black. Black was the color she was afraid of the most. But the worst part was the noise. People’s brains hummed and if a person was excited enough, their thoughts would burst right through the hum.

      Shay really didn’t want to know what people were thinking.

      Mostly she heard a low buzz, all the time, everywhere she went. When it first started, she’d thought she’d go mad, but she’d learned to block it out. To never leave the house without her sunglasses and an iPod. It had been three weeks since the weird buzz and lights had started. Three weeks, and still they hadn’t gone away. No one was paying much attention to her. No reason to warrant the nape prickling.

      She took a few more steps when the soothing caress of warm energy brushed up against her arm. Gasping, she jumped back, almost dropping her basket. One of her earbuds popped out of her ear. She choked on the breath still caught in her throat and saw the man standing next to her. He was tall and slim with strong arms and snug-fitting jeans. Real snug. Real nice. Thick brown hair curled around his ears and astonishing pale blue eyes stared at her in concern.

      “It’s okay, I’m fine.” She slapped an open palm to her chest to get the air flowing again and nodded, trying to look normal—when nothing about this situation, about this man, was normal. The most beautiful colors she’d ever seen surrounded him. Colors so bright she could even see them through the dark glasses. She couldn’t recall ever seeing those particular shades of blue and purple before. Air burst out of her lungs and a feeling of calm settled over her. Better yet, the buzzing noise was gone. Her mind was completely at peace.

      She turned off her iPod. Yep, not a sound was coming from him. How was that possible?

      “I think that one is ripe. Probably even bruised by now,” he said with a cocky grin.

      She stared at him, stupefied, then embarrassment kicked in and she dropped the avocado into her basket.

      “I—I don’t think I’ve seen you around town before,” she stammered, searching for something to say. He was awash in extraordinary colors. She could see right through the dark lenses of her glasses and it left her breathless and amazed.

      “That would be because I just got here. I’ve been hired to oversee the remodeling of a new shop opening in the village—Tamara’s Candles and Incense.”

      “Oh, nice,” she murmured as her tongue thickened in her mouth. Obviously, it had been too long since she’d talked to people. Especially men. Drop-dead gorgeous men.

      “You realize there’s no sun outside,” he said, staring at her glasses.

      Geez, was it really that dark out? Preparing herself, she slipped off the glasses and dropped them into her basket. The man’s aura was more startling than she’d first thought, and he had the most incredible bluish-gray eyes she’d ever seen.

      “You have beautiful eyes. You shouldn’t hide them,” he said, staring into them with such intensity that a warm flush filled her face.

      No one had ever said anything like that about her eyes before and she didn’t quite know how to respond. So she didn’t. She kept her mouth shut and her foot out of it.

      “You don’t happen to know where I can find a short-term apartment?” he asked, his voice rippling through her in an unusually intoxicating way.

      She was staring, overwhelmed by the colors shimmering around his head and the fact that she couldn’t hear his mind working. Not even the slightest buzz. Though for some reason he was affecting her body temperature. She let out a deep breath.

      Amusement danced in his eyes.

      “I’m...uh...sorry? Did you say something?” she asked, certain flaming-red must be filling her cheeks.

      “An apartment?” he repeated.

      “There is a real-estate office right down the street.” She pointed in the direction he should go.

      He had such a wonderful earthy smell, something she could almost place. What was it? Cedar? Cinnamon? Apple? All of the above mixed together in a cornucopia of goodness.

      “Thanks, was hoping not to have to deal with leases and finder’s fees and all that, since I won’t be here for very long.”

      “Right.” What was he talking about? An apartment? Maybe she should...? No. She couldn’t. She wasn’t used to being around men who made her feel so jittery and tongue-tied. Or like a complete idiot. No, she was better off keeping to herself. And she knew it. Just like she knew she was a complete and utter chicken.

      Keep your head down, Shay. You never know when they’ll find you. Her father’s warnings rushed through her mind. Not that she ever knew who they were, why they were looking or even what they wanted.

      But for this man, she could easily forget her daddy’s warning. Mercy! With his dark hair streaked with a rebellious red, high cheekbones and wide, promising lips... She sighed. Not to mention strong shoulders that stretched from here to eternity. He was built and looked as if he could easily carry her and the world, and fight off whoever they might be.

      And then she noticed his hands—large, strong hands. How she loved hands. Some girls liked chests and others liked butts. She loved hands. And his looked solid and capable. A warrior’s hands. She sighed again.

      “Well, hope to see you around,” he said, after the long awkward pause she