Grimm Wolf, Julie Steimle [always you kirsty moseley .txt] 📗

Ditching the Mosel River Valley Tour

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

 

They had originally intended to backpack through Germany like many college kids did as they were in their last years of schooling—before heavy employment and life (which was ahead of them) would soon be on top of them to weight them down to reality. And they were still single men, so they had to take their chance while they still had it. It was the thing to do.

But because Jordan Hague and his two buddies had also dragged Howard Richard Deacon III onto their summer trip—due to the crucial fact that the heir to Deacon enterprises had a private jet and funds to take them there—‘Rick’ insisted they rent a car halfway along their journey rather than go the entire length and breadth of Germany on foot. They had complained mostly for the show of it, but to be honest, after trudging up hills and paths to the thousandth castle, they were footsore and glad Rick wanted to drive on their Mosel River Valley tour instead of hoofing it. Besides, Rick told them, he had business in a town along the river, and he had to ditch them for a few days to represent his dad for work. He needed the car.

 “Seriously though?” Jordan asked Rick from the passenger side of the vehicle, smirking at how much of a workaholic his friend could be. “Can’t you tour Cochem with us? Even for a little bit?”

Rick chuckled, keeping his gray eyes on the bends of the road as he steered the vehicle through the lush and warm territory rather than looking at his long time college roomie. “Maybe after I’m done with business. You’ll have three days in Cochem without me anyway, and you might be bored of it by then.”

Their friends, Emory Lindberg and Rhett Williams, stared at Rick from the back seat, speechless that he would even imagine they could get bored on this trip. Germany was fantastic. And Cochem had lots to see.

Rick liked them a lot. It was one of the reasons he agreed to go on the trip rather than heading to one of his family’s wildlife reserves for camping that year. Emory was this brilliant mathematician entering into fields of economics, of all things. But the guy also had this wild sense of adventure and he had been begging for them to go on this trip since forever. Rick generally avoided Germany for personal family reasons, but since Emory and Jordan were graduating, this would be the last year they could do this.

Besides, Emory looked German. He had brown hair and blue eyes, and he had the last name, which came from his thin German ancestry—as he was mostly of Anglo-Saxon stock. The locals gazed at him first, with respect, expecting him to be a local showing these weird Americans around. But Emory didn’t speak a lick of the language. That was their friend Rhett. He was their operating ‘translator’.

Rhett had no German in him whatsoever, as he was mixed race ‘mulatto’ with creamy skin and tight black curls which he liked to wear in faint Rasta style. But he was a German language minor who had gone on foreign exchange in Hamburg years ago when he was in high school. Emory’s second language had been Spanish. Rhett’s interest in German and Germany was more due to his fascination with German cars and history of aviation. Rick and his friends got to know him during one of their business law classes, though Rhett had started out as a history major. He later had shifted into Business Law after he got to know Rick. Of course, Rhett was much like his father who was a prominent lawyer whose own mother had emigrated from Nigeria during the seventies to also study law. Law was in Rhett’s blood. In spite of all this, Rhett had never abandoned his love for Germany or history, and he was the one who had been nagging Emory to nag Jordan into nagging Rick to arrange this trip.

Rhett had explained it to them this way: Rick had the means. He also had the experience with world traveling. They needed him.

Back then, Jordan had argued back that they didn’t want to use Rick or his fortune, as he desired to keep Rick as a friend long after they had graduated.

To which Emory argued that Rick loved a good hike. He would enjoy it. And if they all went backpacking, the expense would be minimal. Therefore, they should not feel guilty ‘using’ Rick that one time.

And though Rick was the one who eventually insisted on the car, Emory was right: Rick enjoyed a good hike. In fact, he had had more energy on the trip than the other three. He was the least footsore out of all of them as if the rich boy was used to scrambling about mountains with very little food and water on a regular basis. So in way, the rent-a-car situation was kind of weird, and clearly had to be about business as Rick had said.

“How long will this business take?” Jordan asked finally.

Rick shrugged, his eyes on the oncoming traffic. “Three days. I need to leave tonight to be fresh for it in the morning. I’ll be spending three nights over there and then I will get back as soon as I can—sometime in the afternoon.”

Emory groaned. “You won’t even go with us to see Reichsburg Castle?”

Chuckling, Rick steered the car along another bend, coming closer toward the town. He could see the castle on the hill in the not-too-far distance. “I think I’ve seen enough castles.”

“You won’t even put it off for one night? It’s going to be a full moon. Perfect for night hiking,” Emory insisted, thinking he could tempt Rick.

But Rick laughed this time, shaking his head. “No.”

Rhett snorted. “Come on! You are going to miss the best stuff.”

“Seriously,” Jordan cut in with a weird look. “You always have some excuse this time of the month. Your dad isn’t in Germany. You aren’t meeting him for dinner or anything, are you?”

“This time of the month?” Emory laughed. He looked to Rick. “You make it sound like he’s PMS’ing.”

“You aren’t actually a girl, are you?” Rhett called up, snickering.

“Funny,” Rick said. He shook his head. “Look, I’ve got business.”

“On the full moon,” Jordan said dryly, still smirking at him. It was well known among his friends that Rick and his father often went to eat together on the full moon, sort of like a family ritual, though they said it was because it was easy to set a regular date to catch up that way, but without it being exactly the same day on a calendar.

“Maybe that is where the rumor comes from,” Rhett remarked to his buddies.

And here it comes. Rick had been waiting for it. Rick Deacon could not explain his real reasons for taking up a car when all their hiking had been complete fun. He loved hiking. They knew it. And they knew he knew they knew it. But eventually, one day, they would figure out the timing of when he had decided to rent the car was not as arbitrary as he made out. The full moon was actually three days long, and Rick did not want to be anywhere in the vicinity of his friends when the moon rose. They would not understand.

“What?” Emory snorted as if following Rick’s thoughts, though he was just answering Rhett. “The rumor that the Deacons are werewolves?”

Rick merely smirked back at them, now pulling off the main highway into Cochem. He had to find their reserved lodging, the Altes Zollhaus, and get them settled in before taking off to his true destination. He didn’t want to linger in Cochem at all, actually—but Emory insisted on visiting it. There were so many interesting places to visit there, Emory had said. But the shorter time in Cochem, the better, Rick felt. At least, for him.

As he finally found the soft yellow wash building with rust colored timbers and slate roof top, Rick pulled into the closest open parking spot. “Here it is.” He double-checked the address on his GPS to make sure.

All four of them peered out the windows at the building. It was a quaint little hotel, a bit more like a bed and breakfast to Rick’s standards. It had these dormer windows looking out over them, giving them the feel of being back in time. It was not far from the river, which meant it was not far from the road. They eyed Rick, knowing he had booked the place far in advance and he was incredibly selective.

“Why do you always choose places so close to a highway?” Jordan asked, undoing his seatbelt.

Shrugging, Rick pulled off his seat belt. “In case I need a quick getaway.”

They laughed, getting out after him. That was another thing about Rick. He had a paranoid streak—like he was always looking out for assassins. Only Jordan took his paranoia seriously, as Rick was always looking out for assassins. Jordan knew there were people who would like to see his roommate dead. But he knew it was best to keep the tone of the conversation light.

The air was rich with smells. Odors of cooking sausage, mustard, and bread filled their noses along with the scent of human life, water from the river, and traffic. There were other odors which none of them could identify, though after Rick sneezed once, he knew there was at least garlic.

“Ok, we’ll go check you guys in, and I’ll be on my way,” Rick said as he stepped from the car.

They all turned to look at him, stunned.

“You’re not even going to stay for lunch?” Jordan asked, exasperated as he followed his roommate toward the building.

Rick shook his head with a shrug. “Nope. I really need to get going. I’ll come back in three days, and then we’ll get on to our next stop.”

All three of them cast Rick a wan look. He was being no fun again. They had warned Rick not to get like this, as Rick frequently was the sober one. He had to always act responsibly, in most situations—the burden he carried for being the future CEO of Deacon Enterprises, Rick had explained constantly. He had grown up too fast, Emory said.

“Dude, just because your best friend recently got married doesn’t mean you have to act like an old married man too,” Rhett complained.

Emory smothered another snort, nodding as Rick turned and shot him a terse look.

Jordan frowned, also thinking about Rick’s best friend—Andrew Cartwright who was the newlywed. Jordan had met him a couple of times, and honestly he was jealous of how in synch Rick was with the guy. The tall red haired and freckled medical student was equal parts quirky and serious, much like Rick. The man exuded heroism like an old Arthurian knight. He had the shoulders for it, and the confident gait—like an angel warrior on duty. And the next second he was just this dude who played wicked basketball with his buddy Rick, the kind of guy who as a kid used to pull pranks on the stuffed shirts of their Ladies Aide Society while upsetting his preacher grandfather. Rick easily loosened up with Andrew, casting off all his heavy CEO-in-training manner for the wicked tease he was deep down. With the addition of Andrew’s newly-wed wife, who was also a good friend of Rick’s from Massachusetts, Rick was downright a big loping golden retriever. Except… well, after the wedding Rick seemed a little lost, like he felt he had been left behind. This was the main reason Jordan agreed to drag Rick on the trip. Rick needed to get his mojo back.

Closing his eyes, sighing, Rick shook his head. “Look. I’m sorry. I can’t party right now.