He raised his chin, adopting a dominant posture, like his uncle had taught him. “What kind of deal?”
“You get to pick.” Buck sat back on his heels, arms loose and relaxed. “Here’s option one. We go back to camp. I haul your sorry ass in front of Zeph and explain exactly where I found you this morning. He calls your uncle, and all hell breaks loose.”
It took all his willpower to hold his position. “For a so-called deal, this is sounding awfully like a threat.”
“You’re not thinking it through, kid.” Buck held his gaze, eyes dark and unreadable. “When your uncle sent you here, he signed a contract. I spent some quality time this morning reading all the fine print with Conleth. You break the code of conduct, the camp can kick you out. Did you know that?”
He hadn’t. He shook his head, heart abruptly thumping against his ribs.
Buck grunted. “Figured you didn’t, otherwise you would have tried something like this weeks ago. It’s right there in black and white. Your uncle can rage all he likes, but there’s not a damn thing he can do to force us to keep you. Investment or no investment.”
His uncle would be furious. Beyond furious. Not with him, of course. He would never raise his voice to his heir. He would just bedisappointed. The thought had Ignatius’s stomach twisting into knots.
But… he was used to being a disappointment.
Buck nodded, as though reading his racing thoughts. “You go home. Your uncle pitches a fit, but you’re a cunning little weasel, and I’m damn sure you’re used to handling him. You spend the rest of the summer doing whatever it is you like to do. I breathe a sigh of relief that you’re out of my hair. The rest of the pack probably throws a motherloving party to celebrate your departure. Everyone’s a winner. That’s the option you shouldn’t take.”
“What?” Ignatius stared at him, jolted out of the pleasant vision. “Why not?”
“Because it’s the easy route, and the wrong one,” Buck said calmly. “Here’s option two. You stay at camp. You keep being a smart-mouthed burr on my ass, and I keep making you march up mountains, and we both occasionally daydream about pitching the other one into the lake. Nothing changes. Apart from one thing.”
“You mean, I stop trying to figure out what’s going on with you and Honey?” Ignatius frowned at him. “What’s in it for me?”
Buck waved this aside. “I’m not talking about that. Keep chewing it over, if you want. Doesn’t matter in this scenario. Though make no mistake, if I catch you breaking rules again, I’ll launch you over the motherloving horizon.”
“So… what does change, in this oh-so-appealing second option?”
“You.” Buck jabbed a blunt finger into Ignatius’s chest. “You drop the attitude. With everyone else, at least. Me, you can hate all you want. But stop pretending you hate it here.”
Ignatius bristled. “Idohate it here.”
“No, you hate that you were forced to come here,” Buck countered. “You hate that none of this was your idea. Believe me, I know the feeling. I didn’t want to be here either. And I clung to my pride so hard that I very nearly let something far more precious slip through my fingers. I meant it when I said you did me a favor, Ignatius. I’m trying to do the same for you.”
“It’s not the same,” Ignatius muttered. “You don’t understand.”
“No, I don’t,” Buck agreed, to his surprise. “I don’t have your problems, any more than you have mine. I can’t teach you to shift, Ignatius. What Icando is make this a place where that doesn’t matter. Where you don’t have to worry about living up to your uncle, or being the heir to the Golden clan, or whatever the hell has you so scared.”
“I’m not—”
“Don’t give me that, kid. Nobody’s this defensive unless they’re motherloving terrified, every minute of the day.” Buck held up a hand. “I don’t know what it is, and I don’t want to know. It’s your business, not mine. All I’m saying is, it doesn’t matter here. Spend a summer running around the woods, doing pointless crap. Toast a marshmallow or two. Learn stuff you will never, ever use out there in the real world, just because you enjoy it. Hell, you might even consider making a few friends.”
Ignatius snorted. “Like that’s going to happen. Everyone hates me.”
“Can you blame them?” Buck shrugged. “It’s not too late. I’ve got a lot more experience in being an ass than you, and somehow I still seem to have ended up with a whole pack of people who care about me, through no virtue of my own. You want to turn things around, try starting with Finley. That kid would befriend a rabid wolverine, given half a chance. Even if it did cost him a couple of limbs.”
That was true, Ignatius had to admit. “So those are your two options? Go home, or suck it up and stay at camp?”
“Pretty much,” Buck said. He levered himself to his feet, leaning on the ax. “I’m sure you don’t want my advice, but I’m going to force it on you anyway. Putyourpride down, Ignatius. Accept the possibility that maybe, just maybe, this is where you need to be.”
Ignatius tried for a sneer. “In the middle of nowhere, splitting firewood?”
“In the middle of nowhere.” Buck handed him another log. “Splitting firewood. With someone who doesn’t want to see you make the same mistake he did. Think about it.”
CHAPTER32
It felt odd to take the pack out on her own. Deciding it was better to avoid trying to navigate the mountain trails without Buck’s expert guidance, Honey took them for a walk along the lake. For a while, the kids were happy to run around, poking at plants and bringing her interesting rocks to admire.
Nature could only hold their attention for so long, though. Eventually, of course, the inevitable question arose.
