Bearly Cooking (Pacific Northwest Werebears #1)

by Moxie North

  Climbing out of the truck, the scent of tree’s overwhelmed her. It was like pine needles, sap, dirt, and sawdust all mingling together in an aroma that actually played across her tongue. It made her think of sage and rosemary coating a roast chicken. Her brain working up a comparison to understand the complex smells she was surrounded by.

  “How long was I asleep?” she managed, realizing they were in the city and it was just dusk when she nodded off.

  “Just shy of three hours, sugar,” he replied pulling her suitcases out of the truck.

  Sophie raised her eyebrow in a manner which she hoped showed her ire at his continued use of that nickname.

  “Fine, Ms. Sophie,” he acquiesced.

  “Sorry I crashed out on you. I slept the whole plane ride, you would think I was more than done sleeping today. Must be the jet lag,” she offered.

  “Well, I’ve never left the Pacific Northwest so I don’t know much about jet lag myself.”

  “You’ve never travelled?” she asked.

  “Nope, my family likes to stay close to home. The forest has been our home for generations. From Northern Oregon up through Canada is where we like to hunker down. We go where the trees are,” he said with a prideful smile.

  “So what do you do once you’ve cut all the tree’s down? Just move to a new patch?”

  “No ma’am, once we are done harvesting we come back through and replant. Two trees for every one we harvest. All we need then is time to wait for our timber to grow and be logged again. No need to keep looking for new forests,” he replied.

  “Wow, I didn’t know that. That’s very progressive and smart. You will always have your base resource to keep your business running,” she offered with a smile.

  Wyatt gave her a nod back. Picking up her two heaviest suitcases without even straining he walked her to the far end of the lot they had parked in. The rectangle buildings formed a U shape around the parking area. They passed one that had a clear hand painted sign that said, ‘Office’ on it, another one that said ‘Lav’ and the next two that said ‘Bunk’. The final building they came up to said ‘Mess’ above the door.

  Turning to Wyatt, Sophie asked, “Mess?”

  “Short for Mess Hall, old army term. Don’t take offense, it’s not intended that way,” he said laughing.

  “I’m too exhausted to take offense, Wyatt,” she replied pulling open the door.

  Walking in, she saw small four person tables lining the walls. Down the middle were long steamer trays the type you would see set up at a buffet. Well at least she wasn’t expected to be a short order cook for fifty men at once. Buffet style she could handle.

  Halfway through the building was a swinging door that led into a fair sized industrial kitchen. The appliances were used but looked fairly clean. And they were all jumbo sized. She’d imagined she wasn’t going to be cooking for a bunch of skinny minnies.

  The small door at the end of the galley was where Wyatt walked ahead of her to and pushed it open. A miniscule room with a single bed, nightstand, and wardrobe occupied most of the space. A desk and chair were pushed up against a window that looked out of the parking lot. A narrow pocket door led to a tiny bathroom, with sink, toilet and the world’s smallest shower. At least it was private, she thought.

  “It’s not much, but it’s yours and safe. The mess hall door locks as well as your room. We hire the best men we can find, but I don’t suggest you take your safety lightly. Lock up every night before bed, no exceptions,” he warned, “Also, don’t go roaming around at night, we are in the wilderness and wild animals like to hunt at night.”

  “Oh, I’m not about to go off being frivolous with my safety, Wyatt. I appreciate your concern,” she said, glad that at least one of the bosses was looking out for her.

  “A couple of the boys will be in early to throw some cereal out for the guys, so if you hear them banging around don’t get worried. We keep all the food locked up outside in a refrigerated trailer. I’ll show that to you tomorrow. You’ll probably want to do inventory and get comfortable before taking over,” he said giving her a wink.

  Nodding, Sophie kept spinning around looking, trying to get her bearings.

  “Thank you, Wyatt, you’ve been really kind. I’m sure this is all going to work out great,” she said hoping she sounded optimistic.

  Nodding, he started toward the door, “Make sure you lock up, I’ll lock the mess hall door myself on the way out. We’ll see you in the morning Sophie,” he offered tipping an imaginary hat.

  Chapter 5

  Sophie couldn’t sleep, the jet lag had reared its ugly inevitable head. All that sleep on the plane had thrown her body out of whack and now she was lying wide awake in the quiet of the forest. Except it wasn’t that quiet. She heard frogs and owls, and things skittering around the dark.

  Realizing that she wasn’t going to get any sleep, she decided to get up and investigate her new kitchen. She had worked with top of the line equipment in England, but she wasn’t scared off by this rough and tumble challenge. She was like an Old West pioneer, making do with what she had.

  Flipping on the kitchen lights, she wandered around opening drawers and cupboards, finding all the usual suspects. She checked the burners on the stove, all in working order. She came across a clipboard hanging with a meal menu from the previous cook.

  Yuck, it all looked like canned or packaged meals. Obviously fresh wasn’t in the previous cook’s repertoire. She also discovered a key behind the clipboard that had a tag that said ‘storage’ on it. Looking out the window, she could see a trailer like you’d see behind a lorry sitting behind the building.

  Grabbing a flashlight by the door, she headed out to investigate what she was now going to affectionately call her refrigerator. Fitting the key into the lock, she pulled open the door and saw a power cord hanging down the side of the container. She ran her hand along it until she found a toggle and flicked it. Three rows of lights flicked on exposing shelf after shelf of food. Some of it didn’t need to be refrigerated but was clearly here as part of storage.

  The rest was a bounty of fresh food. Vegetables lined up in wood bins, meat in huge slabs bundled together. There was a wall of dairy products and near the back and an entire rack devoted to fruit. Every berry you could imagine, all local and all clearly picked recently. There were a few exotic fruits, papayas and some mangos, but mostly it was huckleberries, and red currants and the like. There were also chest freezers full of more perishable items like ice cream and frozen cakes.

  The last person might have liked frozen cakes, but that was not something Sophie was comfortable with. Looking around she remembered Wyatt saying that they were going to put out cereal for the staff in the morning. Morning was still a few hours away, she had time to at least whip them up something hot to keep them going for the day.

  Grabbing an armful of supplies, and knowing she was going to be making a few trips she left the light on, and headed into the kitchen.

  Sophie had to put on her serious planning cap to figure out how to make up enough food for fifty men. She got some venison sausages she saw in the fridge going in the oven. She whipped up pancake batter in the industrial mixer. Once that was setting to rest, she put together three different berries, including some frozen blackberries she found into a big pot. She added sugar, vanilla, and honey and put it on a slow simmer.

  She decided to whip up a little honey butter too, to go with the pancakes and berry compote. She noticed there were huge gallon jars of honey stashed not only in the fridge but the kitchen as well. She discovered them when she was taking inventory. Someone must really like honey.

  Luckily in her planning for being a logging company cook, she had come across a popular American cook. She ran out and bought her cook book. She lived in a state called Oklahoma and lived on a ranch. Sophie figured feeding cowboys had to be the same as feeding lumberjacks. She wasn’t trained in traditional American meat and potato meals at Le Cordon Bleu, so she hoped her cowboy recipes worked out
.

  Hearing some sounds start up outside, doors opening and closing she figured it was around time for the men to be getting up. Glancing at the clock she saw it was quarter to six. Good to know how early she was going to be starting around here.

  Turning on the flat top griddle, she got to work making her pancakes. For her first real attempt she thought they turned out pretty good, they looked like the picture in the cook book at least. She tossed them into a steamer tray as they were done. She figured she could put out the first batch and keep making them as long as they were needed.

  Walking out to the hall, she set out the pancakes and the sausages. She’d transferred the now thick and sticky compote into another tray. The door to the mess flew open and a large burly man with a long beard down to his chest stepped in.

  Looking around, he boomed out, “Are you an angel from heaven? What is that I smell? Smells like my momma’s kitchen when I was a boy!”

  Smiling sheepishly Sophie blushed and introduced herself, “I’m Sophie, the new cook.”

  “Amos, nice to meet ya young lady. I was coming in to get the cereal out before the savages start howling their stomachs are rubbing against their spines,” he chortled, “I also grab one or two of the guys on limited work duty from injuries to help me make up sandwiches for the men’s lunch boxes. They come in and grab what they want, no need to fuss with them. They usually take chips and cookies and go.”

  “Well I couldn’t sleep, the jetlag had me knackered, so I figured might as well try to get something warm into the men before they head off to work. Can you think of anything I missed?” she asked looking around at the steam trays.

  “Coffee,” he boomed. “Men won’t do anything until they’ve had their coffee.”

  Looking a little lost, Sophie spun around. “I didn’t even think of that! I don’t drink coffee, I’m English, we drink tea. You don’t think they’d want tea do you?” she said in a panic.

  “Settle down there missy, I’ll get the coffee brewing. You go grab those big jugs of milk and orange juice from the cooler. That will keep ‘em happy for now,” he assured her.

  Running back outside she found the milk and orange juice, brought them out to a table and found some buckets to fill with ice to keep them chilled.

  Sophie really hoped this first breakfast wasn’t a disaster. She would hate to crawl home so soon.

  Chapter 6

  The men that started trickling into the mess hall all stopped right at the entrance and took a deep breath. Some even closed their eyes and smiled before making their way inside and heading straight to the buffet tables.

  Sophie introduced herself to anyone that asked. They all raved about the food, she had to stop and make more pancakes twice as she wasn’t quite prepared for the massive quantities of food these hungry men could put away. Something she was definitely going to have to plan for.

  Halfway through breakfast, Wyatt managed to stop in. He took one bite of his pancakes drenched in honey butter and compote and picked her up and spun her around. He declared her the fairest princess in the land and the best cook in the country.

  Blushing not only that he had picked her up, because no one had ever done that, but that he made the whole room look at her and laugh. They did all end up applauding which helped her feel not so chagrined at everyone staring.

  Wyatt told her that Cage wasn’t going to be able to make breakfast. Something had come up with one of the machines and he needed to fix it before the men got started for the day. So she loaded up a Styrofoam container with a heaping helping of the breakfast and asked him to take it to him.

  “Anything for you, sugar,” he grinned then gave her a smacking kiss on the cheek before striding out into the sunlight.

  Hmm, Americans are a little more hands on than I’m used to, she thought. Turning to the tables she noticed most of the men were starting to head out. She realized that she had some serious cleaning to do before she could even think about preparing dinner. Lucky for her Amos and a few of the injured workers stuck around to help clean up and make the sandwiches. Sophie watched in awe at the mound of white bread and meat sandwiches the men threw together. They then laid out industrial size boxes of chips, cookies and a tray of fruit no one touched.

  Across the lot and a few buildings down, Wyatt strode into the office and dropped the container onto a pile of paperwork Cage was sorting through.

  “What’s this?” Cage asked, sniffing at the box. The sweet scent of vanilla from the pancakes hit him first, then the luscious aroma of honey.

  “Our sugar cookie made breakfast this morning. I know we all agreed it was easier to wait for our mates, but I don’t know if I can resist sniffing around this one,” Wyatt said plopping his ass down in the chair across from Cage’s desk.

  “Sugar cookie? Mates? Did you hit your head this morning?” Cage said grumpily. He flicked open the container lid and peered into the stack of pancakes covered in butter and berries and four huge sausages circling the tower of sweet starch.

  “Yeah, our new cook, Sophie. You do remember you hired her right? You didn’t tell me she was all hips and ass and cute accent. And damn can she cook!” Wyatt explained.

  “First, yes I remember hiring Sophie. I had no idea what she looked like. By her starchy accent I assumed she was older. And why are you even talking about hitting on her? You know you won’t ever be happy with anyone until you find your one true mate. Our family, our clan has never had any luck dating non-mates. Bears need to find The One, anything else isn’t fair to the other person. I know you’ve waited baby brother. Believe me, I’ve been waiting too, so has Conner. But it will be worth it, just look and mom and dad. They waited for their true mates and that’s what I want. I know it’s what you want deep down too,” Cage said giving his brother a sympathetic look.

  “I know, I know, but when was the last time you were even around another shifter. Let alone a female bear? They don’t grow on trees you know,” he quipped.

  “Smart ass, I know they don’t grow on trees, but your bear won’t let you bond with anyone else. So to tease some poor girl into giving it up just to have you dump her eventually isn’t fair to either of you,” Cage advised.

  Letting his head flop back against the chair Wyatt let out a pitiful moan, “This one’s cute though bro’. Try the pancakes,” he taunted.

  Cage shook his head at him and dug into the stack of fluffy pancakes. The first bite had his eyes rolling back into his head. A low rumbling groan tumbled from his chest. It was ambrosia, food of the gods. Whoever their new cook was, she was amazing.

  Opening his eyes, he continued to chew as Wyatt gave him a knowing smirk. “Don’t you have work to do?” Cage growled.

  “Don’t be a grumpy bear, eat your pancakes. I’m taking crew one out to the north ridge. We’re almost done with that section. Conner can have it for replanting after that,” he said standing and walking to the door.

  “Fine, and don’t call me grumpy bear. I can take you and pound you. You know it and I know it,” Cage said letting his Alpha timber tinge his words. He watched the shudder hit Wyatt and saw his brother struggle to fight against it.

  Wyatt was strong and it gave Cage a huge sense of satisfaction to see his brother fight his Alpha voice. His clan needed to be strong. Bear shifters were few and far between. His family had managed to stay secluded and prosperous for generations by staying strong.

  “Alright, boss man,” Wyatt grinned and kicked open the office door.

  Leaning back in his chair, Cage continued eating through his breakfast. He did need to introduce himself to the new cook. But he also needed to figure out why the boom arm on the loader wasn’t working. It was fine yesterday and now today it was dead in the water. Introductions would have to wait.

  Chapter 7

  Sophie took two solid hours to clean up after breakfast. She sat down at the tiny desk in her room to go over the inventory she had taken and figure out a meal for dinner. Distracted, her eyes would stray to the dirt lot outsi
de. She watched men coming and going from different buildings. Some, hopping into work trucks, others carrying chainsaws over their shoulders heading to and fro.

  Her eye caught on a large man coming out of the building that she now knew was the office. Even from this distance she could see how big he was. He had to duck through the doorway as he stepped out. He was even taller than Wyatt, maybe six foot six, and he was massively built. Broad shoulders and biceps that strained the fabric of his thick long sleeved work shirt.

  He had bulging muscled legs she could see pressing against his jeans. He had on a pair of sunglass and his dirty blond hair was just long enough to fall recklessly over his forehead. A short tight beard graced what looked like a strong square jaw.

  He was speaking to someone carrying a clipboard when his gaze spun around directly at her. She didn’t think he could actually see her since he was looking back and forth like he was searching for something.

  Turning back to the man speaking rather animatedly at him he nodded a few times and started walking to a black pickup truck, the one Wyatt picked her up in last night. Giving the lot one last scanning look, he hopped in and backed out.

  Sophie couldn’t help but wonder if this was THE Mr. Rochon. He was cuter than Wyatt if that was possible and obviously bigger. And when his gaze had scanned her direction, even through the sunglasses, Sophie felt a tingle flash through her.

  Clearly she was out of practice in the man department. She wasn’t brave enough to fly with her favorite battery operated boyfriend in her luggage, so she would have to take care of any personal issues by hand so to speak.

  Turning back to her menu plan, she got settled down to figure out how the heck to keep fifty men fed and happy.

  A few hours later, Sophie started in on her dinner plans. Not sure what time the men would be getting back. She planned on meals that would keep tonight. She made up huge trays beef and mushroom lasagna with white sauce. She’d whipped up a couple dozen loves of French bread this afternoon to turn into garlic bread. She found bags of frozen string beans that she worked into a browned butter sauce, and for dessert she put together a lemon curd cake that she had to modify to fit into industrial size trays.