“Oh. Does that include your mom’s cousins?”
“Of course. The trust is set up so that when you turn twenty-five or get married you can build a house in the Compound. Mind you, we all have to agree on the location.”
“What if you can’t?”
Jack snorted. “The body doesn’t draw breath that can’t agree when Mom arbitrates. But mostly bear instinct makes us choose places that are pretty to look at, but not too close to other houses, but not too far apart either.”
Hannah laughed. “Your mom is does tend to carry all before her. I had no intention of leaving Bothell, but before I knew it I was in the car driving to Hanover.”
“That’s my mom.” Jack guided Hannah through a path only he could see. “When we were boys, this trail was worn bare, but it’s fallen out of use. See those notches in the trees?” He pointed downward at some dark vees. Those are the marks we made as boys to guide us.”
“Why all the way down here?” Hannah stooped to run her fingers in the old cuts.
“We were avoiding enemy attack, of course.”
“And who were your enemies?”
Jack thought. “My cousins Joseph and Len for sure. But mostly Nazis.”
Hannah laughed. “And did they ever discover your hideaway?”
“Of course. Well Joe and Len anyway. They’re bears after all. It think we invented the Nazis. And here we are.” He climbed up the bottom three rungs of the overgrown board ladder, and pulled himself onto the platform of the tree house with his arms, pushing his rifle ahead of him. He tossed the rope ladder down to Hannah and descended to hold it taut for her.
“I’m fine,” she protested as his big body pressed against her bottom. She scampered up the ladder to stand in the center of a leafy bower. Sunlight filtered through the thick leaves to play on two square, cushions that advertised beer in faded lettering, a narrow foam mattress, and a giant cooler that stood against the three foot railings. A dark fleece blanket was neatly folded on top of the cooler. “Nice,” she said appreciatively.
“Very nice.” Jack stood behind Hannah and pointed out the river and the Kittitas far away in the distance. He kissed her neck and drank in her special fragrance. “We’re too low to really see the mountains,” he explained.
“But Will and I were eleven and we picked a tree with branches that we could build a stable base on. We had to winch up every piece of wood too.” He chuckled. “Actually, I think we made a winch and used it, because we wanted to. Those steps were easier to climb when they were new and none of these boards is very long. We could have carried them up.”
“Your parents just let you build a tree house by yourselves?” There was that envious note again, Jack noticed.
“Well, sure. So long as we stayed away from water, and so long as we came home for meals, we could go everywhere if we had a rifle.”
“Your parents let you have guns at eleven?” She sounded appalled.
“There are predatory critters in these woods, honey. We grew up knowing how to handle a gun safely. ‘It’s a tool not a toy’ might as well be tattooed on my forehead.”
Hannah sighed. “I thought I had a lot of freedom because I walked twelve blocks to school when I was eight, and was sent to the corner store when I was ten. But spending the day alone in the woods with a gun, not so much.”
“I wasn’t alone, I was with Will,” Jack protested. “Will was always the responsible one.” He turned Hannah and covered her mouth with his own. She moaned a little and kissed him back. He braced himself against the low railing, and took her weight against his body. He deepened the kiss and tasted the inner recesses of her mouth, enjoying the smell and sound of their mutual arousal and the feel of her lushness pressed against his woody.
He let her go when she pushed gently at his chest. “I think we have some talking to do, before we have sex,” she said firmly. He let her go and she stepped back, panting a little.
“I don’t mind talking,” he assured her. “But for the record we don’t have sex. We make love. You and I, we’re life-mates. And those are my cubs in your belly.” He let some of his exasperation at her obtuseness show in his voice.
Hannah gasped. “You seem to be taking a lot for granted.”
“There’s a lot I can take for granted,” he said. “My bear knew you were the one the first time I met you. And yours sure as hell recognized me as its mate. I had no way of knowing that you didn’t know you were a shifter. It never occurred to me that I had to tell you that you were a bear. You sure acted mated at the Sanctuary,” he reminded her.
Hannah glared at him. This was so not an apology. This was so not a declaration of eternal love. This was primal bear instinct and male possessiveness. It wasn’t about her at all.
“I’m sorry it played out the way it did, honey. But you’ve heard enough about my Uzbekistan tour to know that I didn’t really abandon you. I would never abandon you.”
He dropped to one knee and fulfilled every one of Hannah’s fantasies by taking her hand. “Will you marry me?” he asked gazing sincerely into her eyes. Then he ruined everything. “This is a great place to raise babies,” he added.
Of course, this was all about her pregnancy. The Enrights didn’t do illegitimate kids. She was tempted. All she had wanted all her life was a family. But now she realized that she wanted to be wanted for herself not a for a litter of cubs. She wanted him to love her. Well didn’t that suck.
“We do fit together well in bed,” she admitted. “But marriage is about more than bed.”
Jack got up, but he still held on to her hand. “You still don’t get it,” he said. “My bear recognized you as my mate not just because you’re the sexiest thing alive, but because my bear could tell you were sweet and loyal and honest and kind, everything I want in a woman.”
Still nothing about love. “Your bear could tell all that?” she asked skeptically.
“Well, sure. It’s all part of shifter instincts. Don’t you get strong feelings about people, since you’ve been triggered? It sure seems you and those shifters in Seattle bonded in about two minutes.”
“The Malcoms are different. They’re like family,” she said as if that didn’t prove his point. “I sometimes get feelings when I meet people. But they’re just feelings. I can’t just act on them without some hard facts.”
Jack shook his head and smiled ruefully. “I’m going to give you some time to trust me, little bear. Let’s eat our picnic and canoodle up here in the trees.”
“Canoodle?”
“It’s an Enright mating ritual.”
“Have you brought a lot of women here?” Hannah asked suspiciously.
Jack put his hand on his heart. “You, my darling, are the first.”
They ate the cold barbecued chicken and potato salad Jack had made before he went to bed the night before. They drank water from his well and a glass of the hearty pinot noir he had bought with her tastes in mind. Then he fed her strawberries dipped in brown sugar and let her feed him the same way.
He felt the tension that had been coiling in her relax here under the canopy of green leaves. She sat with her legs curled beside her, leaning back against the railing. She shut her eyes. He packed up the plates and leftovers and stowed them neatly in the cooler, making sure he didn’t leave anything that would attract bears, or raccoons, or porcupines.
Jack sat back down on the blanket and put his head in her lap. Bliss. The fragrance of her arousal mingled with the ineffable essence of Hannah. He felt as if he had finally stopped running for the first time since Uzbekistan. He relaxed as he felt his mate stroke his hair. He slept.
Hannah smoothed Jack’s bristly head. The gashes left by his mating battle with the rival bear were pink scars now. His chin had been shaved closely even though the bruise on his jaw was still yellow. His black eye had turned violet and yellow. He should have looked unsavory, but he looked great to her. I’ve got it bad.
Why was she holding out for true love? She had always known she was not
lovable. If she had been, one of those thirteen foster families would have kept her. The tree house seemed to sway as the gentle May breezes ruffled the leaves. She fell asleep with her childhood prayer on her lips. Let me fit this time, please.
* * *
Pavel Dobronravov and Andrei Alyokin, dressed in the stiff new hunting clothes and waterproof boots they had bought in Alaska drove up to the edge of the Kittitas National Forest in their rented Wrangler.
“Are you sure that this is where Enright lives?” Alyokin said for the nineteenth time.
Dobronravov resisted the impulse to backhand his companion. “I’m sure. I searched the land registry. We can drive up to his front door, but if we go through the woods, we can surprise the bastard.” He drove off the gravel road and parked the jeep amongst the trees.
Together they cut branches and piled them so that the car was hidden from the road. Then they slung semiautomatic rifles over their shoulders. They had managed to buy them second hand at an Alaskan pawn shop, but even though no one had questioned the purchase, the semis had been expensive. They could not afford much ammunition but the clips were full and they had spares in their pockets.
Dobronravov consulted his printed Google map and his compass. It was a long hike in. He thought twenty-five kilometers at the least. But maybe they would find a logging road that didn’t appear on the map. He waved Alyokin to silence and they headed east, keeping an eye out for anything that looked like a path the jeep could handle. The firs and larches grew close together and they missed the paths that would have taken them to the Enright logging stations. They continued on foot.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
JACK WOKE UP AND feasted his eyes on his mate’s magnificent bosom. Now there was a sight to tempt a man. But he was a Marine and made of stern stuff. No more nookie until he had convinced her they were bonded mates. He rolled off Hannah’s lap. Time to use the facilities. When he and Will had been boys, it had seemed the height of manliness to pee off the edge of the tree house. He doubted that Hannah would be impressed.
From long habit, before he climbed down, he quartered the area looking for trouble. A flash of light in the distance, was out of place. Probably one of the family hiking. He grabbed his rifle and slung it across his back before he descended. He had almost convinced himself that he was overreacting when he climbed back up without hearing anything. But his bear instinct was twitching.
Hannah was awake and smiling sleepily in a come-hither manner. Poor little bear, she was struggling so hard to figure out what her new instincts were telling her. And blowing hot and cold. He put his finger against his lips and hushed her. He pointed upwards and signaled her to wait. Then he swung up into the branches and climbed until he could see further into the forest. He put his scope to his eye and scanned.
At least two men in camo were trudging through the woods. There might be more as he could only see them intermittently, and never all of their bodies at once. It wasn’t anyone from the family, because they weren’t wearing orange vests and hats. The Enright Compound was posted. The family only hunted at night because of all the kids. And outsiders were never given permission to hunt. So these were intruders and likely poachers. His bear was roaring now, warning that his mate was in peril.
Hannah was looking up at him in puzzlement, but when Jack signaled her to join him she climbed nimbly up to stand silently on the limb below his. He pointed with his chin to where the men were moving slowly through the trees. They were carrying semiautomatic hunting rifles, but they didn’t move like hunters. Also, you didn’t need a semi to kill anything but bear, and he was betting they were after human game.
Hannah’s eyes widened and then narrowed. Jack slipped further out on his branch and waved her ahead of him. He wanted her high where the foliage was thicker--out of sight from the ground. The men in camo were talking softly to themselves and focusing on the ground. They occasionally checked a compass and one of them pulled out a phone and tried to get a signal. Good luck with that. Neither of them looked up into the trees. They passed within ten feet of the tree house without seeing either it or the humans clinging to the upper branches of the oak.
Jack waited until the men had moved off and were out of earshot. He was almost sure he recognized them. But between the watch caps pulled down over their hair and the black paint on their faces, he couldn’t be sure. He thought he recognized the line of their backs and the way they moved. But what would Pavel Dobronravov and Andrei Alyokin be doing in the Enright woods? Nothing good. He had known that press conference was foolish.
He spoke in his combat voice, a flat, low authoritative intonation that didn’t carry far. “They are probably heading for the big house. Or the office. I have to stop them. Have you ever fired a rifle?”
Hannah nodded. “I’m better with a crossbow,” she replied as she took the gun. Winnie and Jools had taught her and taken her hunting a few times. Since finding her bear, she had a different take on hunting, although she had never actually killed anything. But she had practiced until she could hit a target.
“Close enough to do some damage,” Winnie had declared cheerfully, inspecting her bullet pattern. But Jack was arming her to shoot people. Whoa.
“Stay up here. Climb out and sit on your branch. Brace your feet so your legs don’t go numb. Don’t shoot unless they see you. I’ll come back for you as soon as I can.” He kissed her swiftly and waited until she had crawled into position. He handed her the rifle, indicating that the safety was off.
Hannah did as he had ordered. Yes, ordered. She had caught his sense of peril and urgency and arguing didn’t even occur to her.
Jack climbed down and got the fleece blanket. He brought it and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Camo,” he mouthed. Hannah realized that the dark green and grey plaid would hide her bare arms and yellow tee shirt. He pulled out his satellite phone and deactivated the sound. He sent a swift, short text to his dad and his brothers.
He kissed her again, fast and hard, and left. How could such a big man move so quietly? He stopped at the foot of the tree and scrambled in the dirt. What was he doing? It was hard to see through the leaves, but when she glimpsed him again, his arms were streaked with mud and so was his face and his jeans were dirty.
What was going on? Was this weird behavior some sort of PTSD because of his ordeal in Uzbekistan? Everything inside her was screaming to stay still and keep watch as if his behavior was perfectly normal. Was this what listening to your bear felt like?
Jack tracked the men without much difficulty. Those SOBs were going to regret bringing guns onto Enright land. He unsnapped the sheath that secured his knife on his belt. He could feel the smaller knife on his ankle. Maybe it was overkill, but he had spent his entire adulthood preparing for combat. He felt naked without a weapon. Too bad he didn’t have a gun, but he couldn’t have left Hannah defenseless.
He was close enough now that he could hear the heavy breathing of the two men. Definitely Dobronravov and Alyokin. They murmured to one another continuously. Good. That would use up their wind. They moved clumsily through the undergrowth, seemingly unable to find the tracks that the animals used. Good. They were navigating by compass. They were noisy. They were inexperienced. And they were about to face the massed rage of shifters defending their land and their families.
He realized that since they were navigating by compass that they would shortly be walking into the bog that lay between them and the big house. It wasn’t on any map. Every spring that he could recall, elk had to be hauled out when they got trapped in the morass of mud and vegetation. Once their big bodies were stuck they would flounder until they died of exhaustion or drowning.
Jack kept as close as he dared. He texted his plan to his father. Alyokin stopped and argued with Dobronravov who responded angrily. The mosquitoes were getting fierce this close to the wetlands and Alyokin obviously wanted to go a different way. Good. Dobronravov hated any challenge to his leadership. He cuffed Alyokin and they trudged on, even as the ground becam
e soft. They were too absorbed in their quarrel to notice how much deeper they sank with each step.
Jack stopped. He put his knives high up in the branches of a Douglass fir. He began to strip, piling his clothes behind a stand of spindly larches. He shifted. Stealthily he began to stalk the Russians on his giant padded paws, carefully keeping to the high ground. His unwary prey selected the open areas where the quagmire lurked invisibly.
They were carrying their semis over their shoulders, not expecting trouble even though they were approaching with hostile intentions. Arrogant bastards. Jack thought he could risk stampeding them now. They would have to choose between stopping and aiming their weapons or ducking behind the little clump of bushes directly in front of them. They were unlikely to realize this offered no defense against a bear. And clearly they didn’t know it was growing in the middle of a bog.
He gave the deepest, loudest, throatiest moan his bear was capable of. Black bears sadly lack the vocal capacity to growl as wolves do, but Jack knew what would sound scary. The Russians seemed to think his guttural noises were terrifying. They looked around uneasily. He briefly showed himself standing on his hind legs, and they raced toward the spurious protection of the bushes. He backed away and circled back to his clothes, shifted, dressed, armed himself and headed for his clan.
He could hear the Russians panicking as they sank helplessly into the sucking morass. Good, flailing would make them sink faster. They would use their guns to get a purchase and foul them. Their spare clips would be rendered useless by wet and mud.
His family was where he had told them to gather. The old saw mill was made of fieldstone three feet thick. Although it had been derelict for a hundred years, its walls were still substantial enough to shelter the eight grinning shifters gathered behind them. It was a male bear shifter dirty secret: they liked a fight and nothing else gave quite the same rush as defending your mate and cubs. Go figure.
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