Chapter 6: Yes, I’ll be back.

(Jaime)

The hotel receptionist gave us directions to the Claw and Mill that Dr Fairfield mentioned. It was an easy walk from our hotel, and now we’re sitting around a table in a booth inside the cozy pub, this one more modern-looking than the one we frequented earlier today.

A fire roared in a modern stone fireplace right in the middle of the room. This pub had booths rather than open tables, and the bar off to the side was a gleaming polished modern piece in light wood and chrome. Overall, it seems more geared towards tourists than locals, and there were groups of them filling the pub with a cheerful vibe.

I couldn’t fault Dr Fairfield’s mind now if I tried. Suddenly, he is the perfect gentlemanly host, happy to entertain us with some of the hospital’s history, the characters he’s treated over the years and the ones currently roaming the hallways in scrubs.

But I caught him staring at me strangely more than once. And he definitely gave our waitress a weird side-eye and a slight shake of the head when she came to take our order. She’s been avoiding my eyes ever since.

Besides that slight incident that I picked up on, it was a very pleasant evening. The food was great. I had a beautiful beef stew that felt like a true indulgence, and I even tried some red wine. I only had a few sips, deciding it wasn’t quite for me, but happy that I tried.

Dr Fairfield walked us back to our hotel at the end of the night and I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was ‘escorting’ us safely back. He may be old, but he was still quite sprightly and energetic. It was admirable.

Back at the hotel he touched my shoulder once again before I turned down the hallway.

“I’ll be in touch, my dear. Don’t go outside tonight though, and straight to the airport tomorrow. When you return, we’ll sort a few things out.”

His cryptic words sent a chill down my spine. It sounded like both a warning, and a promise, and an olive branch of sorts.

Back in my hotel room I take a long, relaxing bubble bath in the giant tub in my en-suite. This was another indulgence I never have time for. Then, dressed in fluffy pj’s, I climb under the bed covers and open my laptop again. Time to dig some more.

This time, I try to find information on the town’s history. There is some basic information on the official site, but nothing more.

It says that the town was established right in the middle of four communities that occupied different areas of Claw Ridge. They all needed a trade post and a place with shared amenities such as a school and a clinic and a law enforcement office.

The leaders of the four communities each gave up a bit of their territory where they’re borders met, so that these facilities could be established, and shops could open for trade.

Claw Ridge was built right on the banks of a fast-flowing river, the Claw River, which the town was partly named after. To the North the mountain peaks formed a ridge of permanently snow-capped beauty, and that’s where the other half of the name came from.

Dense woods surround the town in all directions, but the ski lodges had cleared some areas to form natural ski slopes. To the south, the Claw River curved in on itself for a few miles before taking a sharp turn further south. Where that curve happens, a beautiful lake had formed.

There are several spectacular waterfalls along the river’s causeway, and the mountain and surrounding hills were littered with caves. There’s an airfield from where a commercial flight takes off and land only once a week. It mostly brought in tourists.

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The nearest town to Claw Ridge was over 300 miles away in an Easterly direction. I wondered if they were going to fly us out in a non-commercial plane tomorrow. And why they are so eager that we don’t linger in the town.

But then I remember the bartender’s words, and Dr Fairfield’s warning not to go outside tonight. I think there’s something strange about this town, and my curiosity is piqued.

I am fairly certain that I’ve got the job. But do I still want it? Do I want to come back to this place with all it’s odd warning signals?

When I really started questioning myself about it, it became clear that I did have an answer for that. Yes. I do. I want the woods and the river and the quaint hospital and the quirky doctor and the job where I set the bones of clumsy tourists for most of my day.

There are rude people here, sure. But I’m from New York. There are rude people everywhere. And once they get used to me, they’ll stop staring. And I’ll write Dr Fairfield’s comments about me being a werewolf down to a medical episode. Because eventually he’ll have to accept that I’m not. And if he doesn’t, I’ll keep playing along and maybe even pull some Halloween pranks on him a wolf costume.

Yes. I’ll be back.

With my mind made up, it didn’t take me long to fall asleep, especially with my belly full of red meat for the first time in yonks.

I dream of wolves howling. And the waitress who showed me her teeth. And the barman who growled at me. At some point they all turn into werewolves that chase me through the woods. And when I wake up, the sun is shining brightly, a slight breeze shimmer through the dense woods that were starting to get some spring green back, and there is a six-seater Cessna awaiting us at the airfield.

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(Logan)

There’s a knock on my door and my senses tell me its Dr Fairfield.

“Come in,” I call out to him, even though it’s late. I can’t really hold office hours as Alpha, and I know he wouldn’t seek me out if it wasn’t important.

“Good evening, doc. What brings you to my office this time of night?” I ask as the old man walks in and shakes my hand in greeting.

“Evening, Alpha. Well, I thought you’d like to know about an interesting discovery I made today. And to ask a favor.”

“That sounds interesting. Can I offer you something to drink?”

I hover the bottle of whiskey over a glass, and as the good doctor nods and smiles I pour us both a drink.

“So, what is it that you found?” I ask as we both settle down with our drinks.

The doctor takes a sip, seemingly to gather his thoughts on how he wants to approach this.

“Well, you know I held some interviews today for a new intern at the hospital. Surprisingly, we had three applications, and I invited all three of them over. Even more surprisingly, one of them turned out to be a wolf,” he explains.

“Oh. Well, that’s great, isn’t it?” I respond. “Which pack are they from?”

Dr Fairfield takes another sip before answering.

“That’s the interesting part. She doesn’t seem to know that she is a wolf. And she had no idea what I was talking about when I asked her about her pack, or how old she was when she shifted for the first time. She was genuinely bewildered.” He gives a little giggle. “In fact, I’m pretty sure she thinks I belong in the looney bin. She genuinely believes she is human.”

I frown. That’s strange. I’ve never heard of something like that before.

“How can you not know that you’re a wolf? How old is she?”

“She’s 23. My theory is that she was born into a pack because she didn’t fully smell like a rogue, you know, just somewhat. Somehow, she ended up in a human orphanage, growing up among humans, and that might have stunted her wolf to the degree that she has never shifted.”

I’m stunned. It all sounds strange to me.

“Are you sure she’s not just pretending to be oblivious? She could be from a rival pack sent here to make mischief.”

The doc shook his head.

“No. Her reaction to my questions was too genuine.”

I drain my glass and reach for the bottle to refill it.

“So, she would be the natural choice for the position, but we’ll have to change her rogue status for that to work. Is that why you came to see me first?” I ask as I pour us both another glass.

“Indeed. Besides her being a wolf, on paper she is the best of the three by far. And now that I’ve met her, I’m sure she’ll be a great asset to any pack, and to my hospital of course.”

I nodded.

“I’ll have to meet her first, but I’m willing to make her a member of the Moon Lake pack. Both for her safety’s sake and because our pack will be needing a physician once you retire officially. The question is, if she doesn’t believe that she’s a wolf, how do we convince her to go through an initiation ceremony and become part of a pack?”

The doc barks out a laugh.

“Now that is a good question, my dear Alpha. I guess we’ll have to get her here first, with a signed contract, so that she doesn’t run for the hills when reality hits her in the face.”

I can’t help but give a little helpless laugh too. This will be interesting, and hopefully not too traumatic for our poor new intern doctor.