Boss Bear (Bear Shifter Cowboy Romance) (Timber Bear Ranch Book 1)
Page 1
Boss Bear
Timber Bear Ranch
Scarlett Grove
Contents
Boss Bear
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chief Bear
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Commander Bear
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
About the Author
Also by Scarlett Grove
Copyright © 2017 by Scarlett Grove
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Boss Bear
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Fate’s path can be rocky ...
A troubled inheritance ...
Leland Kincaid hasn’t been back to Fate Mountain for seven years. Now he’s the new Alpha of his clan, and in charge of Timber Bear Ranch. He soon discovers that his father left the ranch in so much debt that he and his brothers might be forced to sell everything. As if that’s not tough enough, the new auditor examining his books is his mate!
A difficult assignment ...
Sylvia Barker is ready to settle down, but not with any of the terrible dates her mom keeps arranging. A shifter-human dating website matches her to Leland, and their chemistry is immediate -- but the next day, she finds out she’s auditing him. If he loses the ranch, it could wreck things between them.
A sinister agenda
As Leland works to uncover his father’s secrets, Sylvia is targeted by lurking enemies. Can Leland save his mate and his ranch, or will he lose it all?
Chapter 1
Leland Kincaid pulled his truck into the front driveway of his family’s ranch and parked outside the old house. The stately two-story farmhouse had been in the family since his great-great grandfather settled the land so many generations ago. The thought of his legacy hung heavy on Leland’s shoulders as he slid out of his cherry red truck.
He hadn’t been home in years, and it wasn’t a happy occasion that brought him here now. He took the worn front steps slowly, his cowboy boots making a familiar click on the wood as he climbed. He made it to the porch before the carved oak front door swung open.
“Leland’s here,” Jessie said, turning away.
His youngest brother’s light tone belied the grief in his blue eyes when he looked back to Leland. Jessie’s taut muscles moved under the fitted yellow motocross t-shirt as he gave Leland a quick, warm embrace. Jessie stepped back and let Leland pass into their father’s house.
After so much time, it amazed Leland how little had changed. His mother’s decorating still dominated the house even though clutter had taken over. The ancient red velvet sofa sat in front of the stacked stone hearth in the front parlor. Opposite to the sofa was his dad’s leather armchair. His dad’s desk and office were at the back of the room beside the door to the dining area. In front of him was the stairs to the second floor and to his right was the door to the TV room.
Buck Kincaid stood from the red velvet sofa in the parlor, his massive shoulders straining the blue flannel shirt he wore. Buck crossed the space and shook Leland’s hand, his lips a flat line and his eyes hooded and unreadable.
“It’s good to see you, brother,” Buck said in a thick voice.
“It’s about time you made it home,” Jessie added, slapping Leland on the back.
Leland turned to his youngest brother and frowned. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to come home. He couldn’t.
“I agree,” Leland said, not wanting to worsen an already difficult situation. “What happened?”
Leland took a seat across from Buck in their dad’s old armchair. It still smelled faintly of him. Leland squeezed his eyes closed, holding down the pain, and opened them again as Jessie settled next to Buck on the old sofa.
“The coroner said it was a heart attack,” Buck said.
Leland had barely spoken to his father or his brothers for seven years. That didn’t make it any easier to accept that his dad was gone.
“Did he know he had a weak heart?” Leland asked.
“Dad never talked to me about that kind of thing,” Buck said.
“We all know how Dad could be,” Leland said. “Me more than anyone.”
“Maybe so, but that didn’t keep him from leaving you control of Timber Bear Ranch,” Jessie blurted out.
“What are you talking about?” Leland asked him, surprised.
“I told you not to say anything until we all read the will together, Jessie,” Buck scolded.
Jessie went to an old front cover desk at the far end of the room. He pushed back the rolling cover and pulled out a stack of papers.
“Is that the will?” Leland asked as Jessie sat back down.
“Sure is,” Jessie said, flipping through the pages. “Same as was filed with his lawyer.”
“We checked,” Buck grumbled.
“Shouldn’t Cyrus be here for this?” Leland asked.
“We haven’t seen Cyrus in about as long as it’s been since we’ve seen you,” Buck said.
Leland could tell he’d hit a nerve with his brother Buck. Buck and Jessie had stayed to work and live on the ranch with their dad after the war while Leland had gone off to manage a ranch in Texas, and Cyrus had taken to the woods.
“You haven’t heard from him lately? How do you know he’s alright out there?”
“Buck is exaggerating. Cyrus comes down from the mountain for supplies once or twice a year. I saw his ass like four months ago. Don’t you remember, Buck?”
“Yeah, I remember. That chump looks like a real wild man nowadays,” Buck said, shaking his head.
“Dad didn’t leave Cyrus anything special. Not like what he left you, Leland,” Jessie said.
“Okay, let’s hear it,” Leland said, tired of waiting.
“I hereby bequeath to my oldest son, Leland James Kincaid, fifty perc
ent ownership of the Timber Bear Ranch and the title of Alpha of the Kincaid family.”
“He left me majority share and the title of Alpha?” Leland repeated, shaking his head, stunned.
The last time he’d been home, he and his father had fought. The two men had always butted heads, but after the war, Leland found his father’s lack of respect for him unbearable. So, he’d left.
“That’s what it says,” Jessie said, handing Leland the papers. “Read it yourself.”
Leland read the words, but they didn’t register. He’d taken time off work from his ranch management job in Texas to come home to clean up the aftermath of his father’s death and help his brothers, but he had not expected to be given the role of their leader.
Even if he was the oldest and the rightful Alpha, he’d never expected his dad to make him his heir. Buck was the second oldest and had been there all along. It should have gone to him. By Buck’s expression, Leland had the impression that Buck felt the same way.
“It does say that,” Leland concluded.
“What now, Boss Bear?” Buck asked.
Buck was usually a straight shooter so his sarcastic tone was clumsy and obvious, making it sting even worse than it would have if Jessie had said the same thing.
“Where is the herd?”
“I have no idea,” Jessie said, standing up.
Jessie’s usual bright smile returned to his face for a brief moment before he started to back out of the room.
“That was all Dad’s department,” Buck said.
“You guys don’t even know where the herd is?”
“I’d check the north pasture,” Jessie said, gripping the front doorknob.
He slipped outside and Leland looked at Buck, who was supposed to be the responsible one of the two.
“Dad ran the herd. You and I both know that. I helped with branding and castration and whenever Dad wanted me to fix a fence line. Aside from that, it was hands off. I’ve been managing the timber rotation for years.”
“The north pasture, in this weather? What was dad thinking?”
“Dad had been acting strange. Snappier than usual. Not a good time to ask him about his precious cattle.”
“So you just left them there?” Leland said, getting irritated.
Buck stood, his face like a statue. Leland knew he was pressing his brother and it wouldn’t get him anything but a stone-cold shoulder.
“Looks like you finally got what you always wanted, control of the herd, the ranch, and all of us. Congratulations, brother.”
“For crap’s sake, Buck. I just got here. I had no idea Dad left me all this. I’m a rancher. What do you expect when I hear the herd is in a notoriously muddy pasture during the rainy season?”
“You’re right,” Buck said, shaking his head darkly, before sighing and leaving the house without another word.
Leland sat alone in the parlor. His mother’s furniture and decorating tastes were still evident throughout the house. It was like things hadn’t changed in all these years, even with only men living in the space.
A vase filled with peacock feathers sat on the fireplace at the center of the room. Leland gazed up at the multicolored old feathers and thought of his mom. What a sweet bear shifter lady she’d been. Gone far too soon for anyone. They’d lost her when Jessie was little. A terrible accident that had left them all scared.
Leland pulled himself out of dark memories of the past and hurried outside. If he was the new Alpha of the Timber Bear Ranch, then he was going to do his gosh darn job.
Chapter 2
Sylvia Becker slammed the front door of her apartment with a loud groan and kicked off her reasonable nude pumps. She couldn’t remember the last time when she had been so irritated. This was the absolute last time she was going on a blind date.
As she made her way to the kitchen to find the pan of chocolate fudge brownies she’d made the night before, her fat orange cat Charlie rubbed against her ankles and meowed at her, looking for attention.
She was too irritable to scratch Charlie behind the ears, which usually calmed her down. Today had to be one of the worst days she’d ever experienced in her twenty-eight years of life. Instead of just taking one brownie, Sylvia grabbed the entire pan and make her way into her bedroom, where she peeled out of her professional-looking beige skirt suit and climbed into a pair of fuzzy flannel pajamas.
Hefting the pan of brownies, Sylvia trudged into the living room and flopped down onto her navy-blue corduroy couch, propped her legs up on the coffee table, and turned on the television. After a day like today, she needed some emotional healing. Clicking on the remote as she shoved a brownie into her mouth, she came to a channel dedicated to romantic comedies. One of her favorites was playing and she let out a long sigh of contentment.
Usually, Sylvia’s favorite genre was docudramas. But at times like these, romantic comedy really hit the spot. It was like cotton candy at a circus. Circus being the operative word in that metaphor, considering every guy she went out with was a clown. Charlie hopped up on the couch and settled in beside her, purring and rubbing his face against her thigh for attention.
“At least you love me, Charlie,” she said, pushing her horn-rimmed glasses up the bridge of her nose, her mouth full of brownie.
She knew it was pathetic to seek love from her cat. But she didn’t care. Nothing could be more pathetic than the experience she had just had. Why in the world had she agreed to go out on another blind date set up by her mother?
Her mother, Rosemarie Becker, was a sweet woman. Sylvia had mountains of respect for her. She had given birth to her twenty-eight years ago, and for that, Sylvia would always be grateful.
She prided herself on being a good daughter, a good employee, and an all-around good person. Just because she was an auditor didn’t mean she was an evil bitch. But that didn’t keep most men from assuming that she was.
As the lady on screen in the romantic comedy was getting wined and dined by the guy, Sylvia recalled the nightmare she had just awoken from.
She and her blind date had agreed to meet at a bar downtown after work, which should have been a red flag in the first place. Sure, meeting for drinks was the new first date thing to do—who had time for dinner anymore, anyway?—but Sylvia didn’t like the trend.
But instead of insisting she was treated with the respect she deserved, she had decided to go on the date anyway. Her mom had set her up, and had insisted he was a great guy—and maybe when he had met her mother, he had been a great guy, but that certainly hadn’t been the case on their date.
Sylvia had received a text message from Tim right before getting off work. He had wanted to meet up in only fifteen minutes. It wasn’t as if Sylvia had time to go home and change for her date. She was forced to go out in what she’d worn to work that morning. Considering Sylvia worked as an auditor, there was a certain look that tended to go with that job. And that was how she had arrived to the “date.”
He got one look at her in her beige skirt suit, nude pumps, severe bun, and beige lipstick, and you would think that she’d broken some federal law. Sylvia should have taken a hint from the startled and somewhat disgusted look on his face and walked away right then. But, of course, she did not.
After she’d paid for her own glass of white wine, that was when things got really interesting. It was too difficult to hear anything in the crowded, noisy bar he’d chosen, so before she had even finished half her glass of wine, he asked her if she wanted to leave.
She should have said no. And as she sat there eating brownies and watching the romantic comedy on television, she was sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that at that very moment in time, she should have definitely said no.
“Boundaries, Sylvia,” she muttered to herself.
But instead of having boundaries, she’d followed the guy out of the bar and down the street. She worked in the business district in Portland and they had met up at a bar nearby. But Tim had started motoring down the street toward the river without eve
n waiting for her to keep up. As conservative as her pumps might have been, they were still pumps, and she simply could not keep up with a grown man walking at full speed. When she had finally caught up with him and grasped his arm to try to slow him down, he looked at her with daggers in his eyes.
Again, she should have just walked away. Why didn’t she walk away?
Sylvia shook her head at herself and grumbled, shoving another piece of brownie in her mouth. If she cared that her voluptuous curves might become more voluptuous from the brownies, she would’ve stopped. But she didn’t. So she kept stress eating, and at least it made her feel slightly better.
After Tim had stopped on the sidewalk and looked her straight in the face, he’d asked her what she’d wanted. This whole setup was supposed to be a date. So, obviously, that was what she had expected. But the guy was acting so strangely and so dismissively toward her that she just blurted out the most secret desire she’d never dared to share with anyone.
“I want to get married and have babies,” she’d said on the sidewalk as the cold spring wind blew up from the Columbia River.
You would have thought she was the most hilarious comedienne to ever step foot on the face of the earth when she’d said that. He started laughing his ass off and wouldn’t stop. He was doubled over, standing in front of her on the sidewalk, cracking up like he might pee himself.
“What’s so funny?” she’d asked him.
“You want to get married and have babies?” he’d said, still laughing.
“Yeah, so?” she’d said crossing her arms over her breasts.
“Here’s a little hint, honey,” he’d said, moving in close to her and gripping her shoulder too tightly. She could smell the alcohol on his breath and could tell that he had had quite a head start on her at the bar. “If you want to catch a man, you’re better off not dressing like a librarian on your first date.”
“This is how I dress to work,” she said, remembering that she had wanted to put on red lipstick before leaving the office. There hadn’t been any in her bag so she’d reapplied the nude color she’d worn to work that day. “You didn’t give me any time to go home and get ready. So, this is how I arrived.”