Tad

by Harmony Raines

  “Thanks, Rosemary. Give me a call when you are ready, and I’ll come and get you.” Heather looked down at her desk. A flyer advertising the opening day stared back at her. What was she going to do now that her star attraction was unavailable?

  “I’ll get myself there,” Rosemary stated firmly. “Even if I have to get a cab. Now, you go and sort out the mess I’ve left you with.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll figure it out.” Heather rubbed her hand over her forehead, easing the tension building behind her eyes.

  “You always do, my darling, you always do.” With that Rosemary ended the call, leaving Heather perplexed. Was Rosemary trying to make her niece feel better? Her aunt didn’t usually try to placate people with platitudes. She always spoke the blunt truth.

  Heather didn’t have time to dwell on the nuances of her conversation with her aunt. She had to act fast if she was going to save the craft barn opening from being a mediocre disaster. Without Rosemary giving a hands-on display of pottery-making skills, the event was going to be a disappointment for a lot of people.

  “Okay, time to regroup.” There was no point sitting here and moping, Heather needed to find a new star attraction and who better to ask than the local artists who were invested in Bear Creek Craft Barn being a success.

  Leaving her office, Heather marched back to the barn, shielding her eyes against the bright early afternoon sun. In the distance, the mountain stood tall and proud like a green jewel shrouded in mist. She’d promised the children that once the craft barn was open, she would take a day off, or maybe two, and they would go and climb the mountain. The lower slopes at least.

  The children wanted to camp out overnight, but Heather was reluctant to commit to such an adventure alone. She was a camping virgin and the thought of going into the wilds with her two children and their food and shelter on her back filled her with dread.

  However, there was no point living next to a mountain if you never ventured onto it. Perhaps if she stuck to the lower slopes, they would be okay.

  “I’ve rearranged the chairs.” Heather’s mom ambushed her as soon as she stepped into the barn.

  “Thanks, Mom. I was just coming to find you.” Heather wanted to tell Lillian the news before she spoke to anyone else.

  “Did you want to check that I’ve put them back exactly where they were?” Lillian asked lightly as she stared at her daughter’s expression. “What’s wrong? What’s happened? Are the children okay?”

  “Bella and Zack are fine.” Heather turned her full attention to her mom. “It’s Aunt Rosemary. She’s broken her arm and doesn’t think she’ll make it here in time for the opening.”

  “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.” Lillian placed her hand on Heather’s arm. “I know how much you were hoping she would draw in a good crowd. What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know. I really need a big-name artist for the opening.” Heather glanced around the barn. “Maybe Emily Pierson might know someone.”

  “Good idea. She’s local and very friendly.” Lillian didn’t make it sound as if that was a good thing.

  “I’ll ask her.” Heather headed toward the area Emily had transformed into a fairy grotto, complete with a thousand fake flowers and a little wooden doorway that stood ajar, with a small fairy with elf ears peering out.

  “Hi there.” Emily wiped her hands on her old paint-smeared apron and stepped forward to meet Heather. “Everything okay?”

  “Not really,” Heather said quietly, although the news that Rosemary wouldn’t be opening the craft barn wouldn’t stay quiet for long. “Rosemary has had to pull out of the opening. I wondered if you might know anyone who would step in.”

  “There are a couple of well-known people who live locally,” Emily replied. “There’s Tad Harrison, he is a sculptor. Or Kurt, he is an artist over in Wolf Valley.” She nibbled her bottom lip thoughtfully. “Both are well-known, and their work sells exceptionally well. I don’t know if we might be a bit small for them.”

  “Rosemary was willing to come and open the craft barn and she is a very well-known artist,” Lillian retorted sharply.

  “We were very lucky she offered to come to the opening. But Rosemary is family. Tad and Kurt are both complete strangers and this is very short notice,” Heather said.

  Emily smiled. She was a lovely young woman who meditated every day and had an air of serenity and love around her. “I didn’t realize Rosemary was your aunt. You’re lucky to have two talented artists in your family.”

  “You are too kind.” Lillian beamed happily.

  “I’m sorry I can’t help more. I’ve spoken to both Tad and Kurt in the past, but I don’t know them well enough to pull in a favor like this. Sorry.” Emily shrugged. “You don’t have anything to lose by asking them.”

  “You’re right.” Heather nodded as she glanced at her watch again. “I have to pick the children up in an hour.”

  “Tad Harrison lives a five-minute drive away. I can give you the address and you can go and see him right now,” Emily suggested. “I’ll just grab a pen and jot it down for you.” She was already disappearing behind her fairy display.

  “I’ll go there now,” Heather said as she looked at the address. “Mom, could you stay here and keep an eye on things? If there are any problems, just call me.”

  “Of course.” Lillian eyed the chairs she’d just rearranged. “I’ll take care of everything.”

  “Mom,” Heather’s voice held a hint of warning. Not dissimilar to how she spoke to her children when they were on the verge of disobedience. Which thankfully, was not often. Bella and Zack respected her.

  “I’ll behave.” Lillian held her hands up in mock surrender. “Now, go!”

  “I’ll hang around, too,” Emily promised as Heather backed away. “And whatever happens, the opening will be a success. So don’t worry.”

  Heather nodded, took a deep breath and then spun around, hoping that Emily was right. She could not afford the craft barn to fail, both financially and emotionally.

  She needed a win.

  Chapter Three – Tad

  Tad gently placed a sleeping Milly down in the large drawer of an antique dresser he’d converted into a makeshift crib for his favorite adopted daughter. Despite being short on time, he could not help pausing and just staring down at the beautiful little girl. She’d changed so much over the last couple of months.

  When Josephine had first fostered her, Milly had been underweight and quiet for a baby her age. After the love and care she’d received from Josephine and the Harrison brothers, Milly had transformed into a confident, happy, content baby, with cherub cheeks that were impossible to resist.

  Tad hunkered down next to the dresser drawer and carefully leaned forward, brushing his lips across Milly’s cheek as he listened to the rise and fall of her chest. He loved these quiet times.

  Work, his bear reminded him. Mama Bear is not going to finish itself.

  You’re right, Tad wanted to get the sculpture finished, it was pretty close, just a couple of final touches, but those often took the longest. The details brought out in the last refinement of the sculpture were what made the difference between something that was okay and something that was extraordinary. Tad had an eye for capturing the essence of the thing he was recreating with clay.

  At least that’s what one reviewer had written in a newspaper review way back when Tad Harrison was an unknown. That article had helped launch his career.

  With one last look at a peaceful Milly, he got up and went across to his workspace. It was basic, made from an old door which sat on four stout lengths of timber he’d cut down from the edge of the property with Max and Jake. He was rich enough to buy a really good workstation, something that would give him more room, but he liked to remember his roots.

  His bear chuckled. Admit it, this is your lucky table and if you change anything, you’ll lose your edge. Isn’t that why you won’t change anything about this place?

  You might be right, Tad conceded.<
br />
  Uncovering the damp clay, he sat back on his chair and looked at the carefully sculpted work for a few moments. Turning his head from side to side, he studied it critically from all angles before he picked up his sponge and dipped it into a bowl of clean water. With even strokes, he smoothed out the surface of the sculpture, removing traces of the tools he’d used to shape the clay. He worked with care and patience making minute adjustments that slowly transformed the sculpture into something unique.

  “Hello!”

  Tad jerked his head up. He’d been so absorbed in his work he hadn’t heard anyone approaching. With a quick glance at Milly to check that she was still sleeping, he got up from his stool and immediately sat down again.

  Something was wrong.

  “Hello. I’m looking for Tad Harrison.” A shadow fell across the open door of his workshop and his whole world tilted on its axis.

  “Here.” He held his hand up as if he were signaling for help, lost on a stormy sea. His stomach lurched as he tried to stand once more.

  She’s here, his bear said in awe.

  Who is here… Oh? Tad pulled himself together, recalling his brother, Max’s, reaction when he first met Josephine. He’d gone weak as if he had the flu.

  Our mate, his bear bristled with expectation.

  “Oh, hello.” His mate stood in the doorway, framed by the early afternoon sun.

  “Hello. I was working.” He indicated Mama Bear.

  “It’s incredible.” She rushed forward, her eyes fixed on the sculpture, while his eyes were fixed on her. Incredible, beautiful, her.

  “Thanks.” He studied her while she studied the sculpture.

  “Sorry.” She straightened up and thrust her hand out toward him. “I should have introduced myself. I’m Heather Jarvis. I’m opening the Bear Creek Craft Barn just up the road from here.” She pointed toward the open door with her free hand, while he captured her outstretched hand and shook it.

  Stop shaking her hand, his bear ordered.

  “Sorry.” He dropped her hand suddenly as if it were contaminated. “Sorry.” He frowned. What the hell must she think of him?

  “That’s okay.” A nervous look crossed her face. “Tad.” She ducked her head. “Can I call you Tad?”

  You can call us whatever you want, and we’ll come running, his bear answered with his tongue lolling out.

  It’s a good thing she can’t hear you, Tad told his bear.

  “Tad. Sure.” Tad waved his hand around erratically as if his muscles had gone into spasm. Heather raised an eyebrow at him and took a step backward. He needed to get a grip. “What can I do for you?”

  Maybe she’s a crazed fan, his bear suggested as his mate fumbled for words.

  I don’t think sculptors have crazed fans, Tad replied.

  “I have a really big favor to ask.” She held her hands wide as she talked.

  Whatever she wants, it’s a yes, his bear told Tad, as if Tad wasn’t aware they would do anything for their mate.

  “Ask away.” Tad smiled in encouragement, even though he was a little apprehensive. He understood his bear saying they should say yes, whatever Heather wanted, but what if the thing she asked was impossible?

  Or illegal, his bear was so excited he was jabbering on as if he’d drunk ten cups of super-strong coffee.

  “It’s the opening of the Bear Creek Craft Barn on Saturday.” She pressed her lips together and clasped her hands in front of her body. “You probably haven’t even heard of it.” Heather gave a nervous laugh.

  Tad let out a deep breath, she needed him to comfort her and encourage her. This was a big deal for his mate. Which made it a big deal for him. “It’s a great project. I was hoping to come along myself and show my support.”

  “You were?” Heather exhaled and her expression brightened.

  “Yes. Local artists need support and encouragement.” He smiled. “What’s your talent?”

  “Talent?” Heather’s brow creased.

  “Yes, what kind of artist are you?” He put his hand to his chin and studied her. “A painter, perhaps?”

  She waved her hands in front of herself. “Oh, no. I don’t have an artistic bone in my body.”

  “I find that hard to believe.” Tad stepped forward. “You have long slender fingers and a steady hand.” He raised his eyes to meet hers. “And an eye for detail, I suspect.”

  “You have me confused with every other member of my family.” Heather gave a self-deprecating smile.

  Tad’s forehead creased as he studied her. Then he grinned. “There’s nothing wrong with being different. Believe me, I have two brothers and we are all different from each other, but I think that’s why we haven’t murdered each other despite living together in this house our whole lives.”

  “You live at home with your brothers?” Heather asked in surprise.

  “Long story.” Color crept across Tad’s cheeks. He’d never given it much thought, but most women would expect a mature man to have moved out into his own place.

  Mature. His bear sniggered. Wait until she sees you, Max, and Jake after you’ve drunk too many Bear Creek Honey Beers and decide to have a bear wrestling match. His bear flexed his muscles as if trying to prove to himself he was strong and powerful enough to best his brothers. Which wasn’t often the case. Jake liked to win in life and in the bear wrestling ring, which was nothing more than a clearing in the trees high up in the mountain.

  Let’s introduce her to that side of our life once she gets to know us, Tad advised, since he had no idea if Heather knew about shifters or not.

  A small hand waved in the air and he glanced sideways, looking down at Milly who was beginning to stir. Lifting his arm, but not actually putting it around Heather’s shoulders, although it took all of his willpower not to, he ushered Heather outside. If Milly woke now, she would be grizzly until dinner time. The small child sure did like her beauty sleep.

  And she sure is beautiful, his bear added.

  “Shall we go outside? You can tell me all about your craft barn and I can see if I can be of any help.” He smiled, what he hoped, was a charismatic smile, but he was so out of practice at flirting, he might look as if he’s eaten a bad mushroom Max had foraged on the mountain.

  Since when does Max ever bring back bad mushrooms? his bear asked.

  “I appreciate your time.” Heather glanced down at her watch then her eyes flicked up to his. “I’d also appreciate your help.” She gave him a lopsided smile. “I’m not too proud to admit how desperate I am. My aunt, Rosemary Cantrell, was going to cut the red tape and officially open the craft barn, she was also going to do a presentation and teach a master class. Unfortunately, she has broken her arm and although she can probably hold the scissors and cut the tape, she probably won’t arrive in time. And anyway, I need a little…more.”

  “I understand completely.” He stared at her mouth as she spoke, and he couldn’t resist running his tongue along his lower lip. He wanted to taste her mouth so badly. So very, very badly.

  Heather raked her hand through her hair. “Do you? Because I’m not sure I would be so understanding if a strange woman showed up on my doorstep and asked me to help her out… I can’t afford your normal fees.”

  Tad gave a short laugh. “I don’t have a normal fee since I never do this kind of thing.”

  “Oh.” She let the word out as a sigh of defeat.

  Tad held up his hand. “No, I’m not saying I won’t do it.” He nodded and smiled happily. “I’ll do it for you.”

  You sound like a letch, his bear told him. You know, one of those creeps that make your skin crawl.

  Okay, I get the idea, he replied to his bear.

  Heather took a step away from him, her expression masked as she tried to figure him out. “I…I…”

  “I mean I will do it for Bear Creek. We need more tourist attractions and I’m sure anyone who comes here on vacation would love to visit the craft barn and see local…crafts.” Tad glanced toward the mountains. “I love
this place. I love the mountain and the town and the people who live here.” Emotion cracked his voice.

  “I can see why,” Heather said, following his gaze. “I haven’t lived here too long, but I’m already in love with the place.”

  “Then you’ll accept my offer?” Tad asked.

  Her face lit up with a bright smile, filled with relief. “Yes, please. Emily only gave me one other person to ask, an artist over in Wolf Valley.” She glanced at her watch once more.

  “And you don’t have time to go all the way over there.” He nodded toward the watch on her wrist. “You have somewhere you need to be.”

  She covered her watch with the palm of her right hand and patted it. “I’m sorry. That’s not the impression I wanted to give. I’m thrilled you are opening the craft barn. I love your work.” She sighed. “And now I’m gushing like a fool.”

  “I’m not complaining.” He arched an eyebrow. “Listen, go, be where you need to be and maybe we could meet up when you have more time.” Was he really telling her to leave when they had only just met?

  “How about tomorrow? I’m at the craft barn all day. So whenever it suits you, just come on over.” She took another step away from him as she plunged her hand in her purse and pulled out a business card with her name, address and telephone number emblazoned across the front, surrounded by a flock of butterflies. “Call me if there is a problem.”

  He reached out and took the card from her. As his fingers curled around the business card, their skin touched, and a spark of electricity arced between them. She gasped but didn’t pull away as her eyes flew up to his. They stared at each other for a fleeting moment that seemed to stretch out into eternity.

  Heather’s heart rate quickened, the thud of the blood pumping through her veins exciting him. “You should go,” he growled.

  Before I lose control.

  She nodded wordlessly as she turned around and walked back to her car.

  Chapter Four – Heather