Secrets of the Bear (Trapped in Bear Canyon Book 4)

by Terry Bolryder

  Then Francis swept her up in his arms and carried her to the couch. He played with her hair, sweeping it off her face as he took a deep breath and then released it. It felt so good to be close to his warm, strong chest.

  “I didn’t say I could never see you the same. I just said it would take time.” His blue eyes turned vulnerable. “Besides, why does it matter to you so much what I think?”

  She turned away. Was he fishing for compliments? She wasn’t going to give him any. He already had to know his effect on women, what a good man he was, how lucky anyone would be to be with him.

  He had to know she’d always had a bit of a crush on him.

  “I don’t know,” she said, dodging the question.

  His body tightened and his voice went lower. “As for Charles, I’m not letting him near you. Not until I figure this out, and probably not even then. If he’s the one who did this to you, if he hurt you in any way, then my loyalty to him is over.” He shook his head, and she saw a muscle tick in his jaw. “Do you believe me when I say I’m going to protect you?”

  She hesitated and then nodded slowly. Regardless of her bad judgment with Charles, she knew Francis was a good person. A much different kind of man.

  “Good,” he said, gently placing a kiss on her forehead and then setting her beside him.

  “Where did you learn to be so gentle?” she asked. “Did you have a sister?”

  “One,” he said. “But she was always a tomboy.”

  “Was?”

  “Well, she’s married now, living in France with her husband.”

  “Oh,” she said.

  “I didn’t need to have a sister to learn to be gentle,” he said. “I didn’t kiss you on the forehead or hold you on my lap because you’re a sister to me.”

  “Then why?” she asked, baffled. How did he know how to comfort without trying anything or taking something for himself? “Why are you being so kind to me?”

  “Because you seem to be in need of kindness,” he said, a patient expression on his gorgeous face. She felt her heart nearly melt in response.

  She’d felt so dead inside when she’d shown up on his doorstep last night. She hadn’t known how he was going to react. And even if they kept misunderstanding each other as they tried to untangle the unpleasant past, she was glad to be with him.

  And surprised by how fast she was waking up inside.

  “Okay,” she said, standing up and stretching. So he saw her as Charles’s still, and it was going to take time to get used to the fact that she wasn’t. She could deal with that. “Let’s go shopping.”

  He nodded. “Let’s go.”

  5

  As Francis watched Valerie rifle through the hangers of clothing at the local boutique, he chided himself for being so full of shit.

  He’d kissed her because he thought she needed kindness? What kind of bullshit was that?

  He’d kissed her on the forehead because he felt sorry for her, sure, but also because he wanted to. Because the urge to touch her was constant, eating at him all the time.

  But if she’d mated Charles, then she was off-limits, even if he couldn’t let Charles around her ever again.

  He didn’t know what to do about it, if he was honest. Mating was serious in the shifter world. He’d never heard about mates “divorcing” or anything like that. Usually, when fate brought people together, they were meant to never be apart. He’d seen shifters take new mates if theirs passed; that was it.

  His eyes followed Valerie, and he hoped he was doing a good job disguising his naked hunger for her.

  He’d always been one to hide his feelings, and when it came to her, he’d always been extra careful.

  Perhaps when they’d been friends, he’d been too careful. But Charles had picked up on it right away and been sure to tell Francis he could tell Valerie had no attraction toward him. That’s why she was so comfortable with him.

  And she had definitely acted different toward Charles, to the point that Francis selfishly wished he hadn’t introduced them.

  Now that there were bruises on her cheeks, he wished he’d never let them meet.

  Was this all his fault?

  Still, he couldn’t just jump on her, even if she seemed eager for him. She could just be wanting a rebound. Or maybe she didn’t realize how serious shifter mating was. Or maybe she really didn’t think he could help her without wanting something sexually.

  Of course he wanted something sexually. But his ability to protect her had nothing to do with that.

  He’d protect anyone in her situation.

  He caught the store owner, a middle-aged woman who was a friend of his, staring at him intently. Her eyes darted to Valerie, to her bruises, and he saw questions in her eyes.

  He took the opportunity to go talk to her. She had frizzy, light-brown hair she pulled back in a messy bun, and her face was clean and makeup free.

  “Do you carry any cosmetics?” he asked.

  She firmed her lips into a line. “For her?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Just tell me you don’t have anything to do with those bruises.”

  He frowned. “Oh, come on. Tell me you seriously know me better than that.”

  She sighed, and Val looked over at them questioningly. He tried to look innocent and waved for her to go back into a dressing room.

  “I do, Francis. It’s just a hard thing to see. So what’s she doing here?”

  “Looking for help,” he said. “And privacy. Can you forget you’ve seen her?”

  “Sure,” she said. “And as for cosmetics, I’ll give you what I have. Not a huge selection, but I should have a concealer that’ll at least make things a little less awkward for the poor girl.”

  He swallowed, continually having to work to suppress the rage he felt at seeing markings on her.

  Now that she was back in his life, his bear was harping about her being his mate again, and as a mate, he felt he’d failed to protect her.

  But he also knew that was silly. She’d chosen another man. If she’d been his mate…

  She came out of the dressing room in a pretty, ruffled summer dress and cowboy boots, and he gave her a whistle. “Looks good.”

  She spun, her curls bouncing. “Thanks.”

  “But I recommend the jeans.”

  “I can get both,” she said.

  “Business is good?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said. “Or it was until I ran.”

  She’d worked in advertising before. They’d gone to school together and become quick friends. Even though Francis had gone to school with Charles up until that point, Charles had gone to a different college.

  When they’d met up in the same city to work, Francis had introduced his two friends. Now he greatly regretted it.

  But Valerie was in front of him, looking happy in her dress, her smile glowing, and he didn’t want to ruin the moment by living in the past.

  “You look beautiful.”

  She flushed and went back in the dressing room, shutting the curtain behind her.

  After she’d tried on a few more things and picked out cosmetics, even applied concealer over her bruises, greatly diminishing them, they went to check out.

  When she realized Francis had already handed over his card so she couldn’t, he was rewarded with another blush and a smile and a squeeze of his hand that he knew he’d always treasure.

  Was this what life would have been like if she’d picked him?

  The bell over the door dinged as a grumpy, straggly looking woman peeked inside. “I thought I saw Francis come in here?” she asked in a scratchy voice.

  The store owner gave him a longsuffering look, and Francis said, “Okay, Angela, what is it?”

  “My bushes,” the older woman snapped. Her white-streaked hair was standing in all directions. “That damn cat is messing in my bushes again. You get him out of there or I’mma get him with my shotgun.”

  “My goodness, Angela, you wouldn’t hurt a little animal,”
the store owner interjected.

  “I damn well would, and you know it,” Angela snapped back.

  Francis sighed and looked over at Valerie, who seemed puzzled. “Sorry, but as stand-in and soon-to-be-official mayor, I’m going to have to deal with this.”

  She nodded, paling slightly. “I get it.”

  “Come with me,” he said. “I promise you’ll be safe. No matter where we go.” He squeezed her hand.

  “You going to spend all day romancing? Is that what my taxes pay for?” Angela snapped.

  “I don’t make a salary,” Francis called out congenially, but the grumpy woman didn’t hear him, muttering as she walked out of the store. Francis took their bags and loaded them in the car and then took Valerie by the hand.

  “So she just needs help with a cat?” she asked. “You always do things like this?”

  He grinned as he led her across the empty street in the direction of Angela’s house. “Yeah. Never a dull moment in Bear Canyon.”

  She didn’t seem convinced, but she didn’t protest as she went with him to take care of “business.”

  Moments later, they had a very disgruntled cat in their arms, and a very scratched Francis was cursing and checking his wounds as they walked down the sidewalk.

  The cat, a pretty gray Persian with white patches on its face, was purring and cuddling in Val’s arms, and she grinned as she saw Francis glare at it in shock.

  “It likes you,” he said. “That cat doesn’t like anyone but Audrey, his owner.”

  “Well, I think he’s sweet,” she said.

  Francis just laughed. “I don’t think he’s a bad kid, but he really needs to stay out of Angela’s rosebushes.” They walked up to a quaint, dark-blue house with white shutters, and Francis knocked on the white door.

  A small woman with dark hair and blue eyes answered, squinting. When she saw the cat in Valerie’s arms, her eyes widened and she reached out.

  Valerie handed the cat to her, and the woman took her quickly, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

  “Audrey, you’ve got to keep him inside. You know Angela. She’s making threats.”

  “I don’t blame her,” Audrey said. “But you know he’s only trying to help her by catching mice in her bushes.”

  “I know that,” Francis said kindly, leaning in to pet the cat, who immediately hissed at him. Francis stepped back, and Valerie lifted a hand to cover her grin at his shock. He sent her an accusing look, as if he still knew she was laughing at him inwardly.

  “But anyway, what can I do to help you so he doesn’t get out again? I don’t want anything to happen to him. Even if Angela never carries out her threats, and I don’t think she ever would dare hurt an animal, he could get hurt in the street.”

  Audrey looked out at the open street just as a tumbleweed blew through coincidentally. She squinted up at Francis, as if her point had been made, and he blew out a breath as Val had to stifle another giggle.

  “He can’t be an outside cat, Audrey,” he said.

  “Well, it’s the cat door, you see,” Audrey said. “You know Ralph has been sick, and he couldn’t fix it so it would close.”

  Francis brightened. “Well, I can fix that in an instant. Let me get my tools.”

  Val just blinked as he jogged back to his truck and began rummaging in the toolbox.

  Audrey appraised her carefully. “You’re a friend of the mayor’s?”

  “I suppose so,” Val said.

  “You suppose so?” Audrey’s voice was quiet but accusing. “Francis is a good man. You should be proud to say yes.”

  “Yes, I’m his friend.”

  Audrey’s face split into a smile. “Good. Perhaps even more, then?”

  Before a shocked Valerie could answer her question, Francis was back, and Audrey was all innocence.

  As she led Francis through the house to the cat door and he got down to start fixing it, Valerie took an offered chair in the kitchen.

  Francis fell into easy conversation with Audrey, and Valerie was quietly struck by how much she had missed out on by losing him.

  She still didn’t know why he’d abandoned them. Had he thought just because she and Charles were getting together, they wouldn’t want him around?

  Had he been angry about something?

  A part of her wondered if he was jealous, but she had nothing to base that on. He’d never made a move, never pursued her in any way as Charles had.

  He was just kind to her, as he’d been with Angela and then Audrey.

  How was she supposed to know if she was someone special to him back then? His quiet kindness made it impossible to tell.

  Maybe if she hadn’t been insecure already, then she wouldn’t have believed Charles’s comments about Francis not liking girls with her body type.

  And maybe she would have been able to see Francis better.

  She was seeing him now, as he finished fixing the cat door, gave the grateful Audrey a hug, and put his tools away like it was nothing.

  As he said good-bye and walked out the front door with her, Val could tell he felt satisfaction from helping the two women.

  “So you don’t even get paid for anything?” she asked.

  “Not for now. And I don’t need to be. I get free rent, and I have a lot invested with a friend.” His cheeks flushed slightly, as if it were a topic he didn’t like talking about. “Anyway, how about we go get lunch?”

  She rubbed a hand lightly over her stomach. “Didn’t we just have breakfast?”

  “That was hours ago,” he said, looking both ways and then leading her across the street to his truck so he could put the tools back in. “I’m hungry. Aren’t you?”

  “I’m going to gain weight,” she said absent-mindedly, as he dragged her down the street toward a sandwich shop.

  “Good,” he said, shocking her. She pulled herself to a halt, jerking her hand away from his.

  He stared at her, his hair lightly damp from sweat, his face still bearing small scratches from the cat. “What is it?”

  She bit her lip, unsure how to ask. She felt her stomach growl and saw him grin down at her. “Oh, fine,” she said, deciding to ignore anything Charles had ever said about her weight. It didn’t matter what he or Francis thought about it.

  It was time to try to be happy again.

  “Lunch it is,” she said, striding ahead.

  When they got home after lunch, Valerie felt she was starting to adjust to being in Bear Canyon. To the fresh mountain air, the quiet all around them, the many rustling trees, the sounds of wildlife.

  But she was still getting used to having Francis by her side, the gentle, awkward dance they did around each other, neither sure where the other stood.

  So far, Francis wasn’t eager to talk about himself. He wanted to know more about her, but she didn’t really want to talk about herself either. Especially about the business with Charles.

  She knew she had to tell him everything at some point, and soon, but she wasn’t ready yet. The words felt too shameful, felt as if they would kill her if she had to admit them.

  She’d never thought she’d be an abused woman. Never thought she’d be the type to stay through emotional abuse, get utterly tricked by a man, and then only leave the second time it got physical.

  The first time, she’d dealt with it, thought it was a shifter thing. Thought it was a fluke.

  The second time, she’d thought, This man could kill me.

  And even though at times she felt so down it seemed there was nothing out there for her, that night, she’d thought of Francis. She’d remembered looking him up weeks before, finding out he was in Bear Canyon.

  In fact, she’d had to pay someone for the information. That made her reasonably confident that Charles wouldn’t immediately know where to look for her.

  Then again, if he knew where she’d gone, would he even come? She sensed, deep down, he was actually afraid of Francis, though he’d never admitted it. Never would.

  Francis stretched, revealin
g a sliver of taut skin and the deep lines of his Ken doll muscles above his belt. She felt blood rush her neck and turned away.

  “So what next?” he asked. “You want a nap? I know my friends want to hang out tonight.”

  She whipped around. “Your friends?”

  “Yeah, my friend and his wife. They own the local bar. We usually meet up on Thursdays.”

  She took a deep breath. It had been one thing to be around Francis, but how would she feel being out in public with normal people? “What are they like?”

  “Nice,” he said, walking toward her.

  She always felt slightly nervous yet reassured as he approached. Nervous because he was so attractive. Reassured because it seemed he would never hurt her, as if in fact he would keep anyone else from hurting her instead.

  “I wouldn’t have you meet anyone I didn’t think you would like. Rock and Rosalyn are great people. I think you’ll have fun with them.” He rubbed her arms gently. “I think you need some fun.”

  She nodded silently. He was probably right, but sometimes it felt impossible to have fun. As if she didn’t deserve to after her poor judgement and the trouble she’d gotten in.

  And was that just involving more people in her problems?

  She felt his finger gently lift her chin. She hadn’t even realized she was looking downtrodden.

  “If you don’t want to go, I understand,” Francis said. “That’s fine. We’ll stay home.”

  She lifted her chin stubbornly, feeling the need to fight streaming through her. “No. We’re going. I’m going to have fun, dammit, even if it kills me.”

  He laughed and let go of her with a smile. “It’s not going to kill you.” His expression darkened. “I’m not going to let anyone or anything kill you, Valerie.”

  She bit her lip, feeling the tension between them, but not wanting to make another move after what had happened that morning.

  He’d set a clear boundary between them, and she didn’t want to upset him by overstepping it.