Bear Fursuits Books 1-4: Bear Fursuits

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by Montrose, Isadora


  “Plus he’s a coward,” said Kelsy Willis. “Yeller streak a mile wide. Catch him risking his skin in bear season.”

  “So, if Brown heads for Wesheno,” Will summed up, “We can take it that he will do so by car. Stolen or otherwise. Any way to control entry points into town, Frank?”

  Payawasay shook his head. “Not easily. But he’ll still be looking for our girls in LA. Be hard for him to know they weren’t there.”

  “Unless Lance told him they’d run off before he was killed.” Will finished the last of his pancakes and picked up his coffee. “Did I mention that there’s a sporting chance Brown thinks Martha’s holding Lance’s prize money?” He swiftly outlined the incident at the fight club and Shelly’s role. “Any suggestions?” he concluded.

  “Just shoot him,” said Morley Onesalt when Will was done. “Poor little Shelly.”

  “I am an officer of the law,” Payawasay reminded the other man. “And so are you, Onesalt.”

  Deer’s old eyes looked past the younger men politely. He ate his pie slowly. He spoke into the silence.

  “They say,” he said ruminatively, “That long ago there lived a man of malice. He took pride in his wickedness. No evil was too great for him. He used his strength to harm his brothers. They say he lay with any woman he fancied, whether she was willing or not. The wives of his brothers. The unmarried maidens of his clan fetching water from the streams. He was a man who acted like he had no clan.

  “At last the Great Spirit took pity on the people. He gave the gift of the Law to them. One warrior he appointed to enforce and keep the law.

  “They say when the evil one next broke the law the warrior assumed bear form and dealt with this evil doer. They say the warrior’s wives dressed the skin of the evil one to make a covering for his tent.” Sam Deer took a slow sip of his coffee and shook his old head. “I don’t know the truth of that.”

  “We men are all descendants of that warrior and the Ancestral Bear Clan still enforces the law.” The old voice wavered to an end.

  Huh. Was Grandfather Deer suggesting the Ancestral Bear Clan had a responsibility to take out Brown? Or was Will the warrior Deer had in mind?

  “Mary has been thinking that it is the season to teach our granddaughters to make baskets as our women were taught by the Grandmother of all,” Deer went on. He sipped his coffee. No one said anything. “I think that Mary would be pleased to teach little Shelly the way of Nokomis also, if she would be kind enough to visit us this weekend.”

  Did this mean Will had passed inspection?

  Chapter Twelve

  Robert Waukau followed Will out of the restaurant. The SEAL looked the hostile younger man over. Was this the fork licking shifter he had to kill to get his mate back?

  “Was there something you wanted to ask?” he said mildly.

  “What do you want with Hannah?” asked Waukau.

  “Hannah?”

  Waukau produced his phone and showed Will pictures of Jack and his fiancée. “I don’t get it. How many wives do you want?”

  Will tapped the other man’s phone to expand the photo. “Hannah is marrying my twin. This little guy.” Will pointed to his brother Jack who was six five in his sock feet.

  “Looks like you.”

  “It’s a curse.” Will paused. “What is your interest in Martha? Why’d she send you Hannah’s picture?” His voice was arctic.

  “She’s my sister.”

  “Robert Justin Waukau?” Will asked, making certain.

  The black eyes either side of a big hooked nose got even more suspicious. “How do you know my name?”

  “I’ve got a guy looking for Martha’s brother.”

  “Huh. How’d you know she had a brother?”

  “I traced Martha through Hannah’s birth certificate. Patricia Ann Metcalfe gave birth in October, 1987 to three babies at Milwaukee General Hospital. Girls are registered as Father Unknown. Boy’s birth certificate lists Robert George Waukau as father. You’re that kid, right?”

  “Um, the thing is,” Robert seemed embarrassed, “My dad was married. He had an affair with Trisha and she took off for the city. She called him when she had the babies and he looked us over. He figured I was the only one looked like him, so he wouldn’t give permission to put his name on the girls’ birth records.

  “Said he wasn’t paying child support for some other,” Robert hesitated at Will’s fierce look, “Guy’s kids.”

  “But he took you?”

  “Yeah. Talked my mom round. She couldn’t have any kids. She’s a great mom, raised me right. But she didn’t want me to have nothing to do with the Metcalfes. But Dad told me about Trisha before he passed.”

  “So when Martha came back from LA you guys had a little reunion?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Yeah, what?” Will barked.

  “Sir, yes, Sir, that is correct, Sir.” Robert’s response was automatic.

  “Regular army?” Will asked mildly.

  “Sir, yes, Sir. Corporal, Sir.”

  “It’s good that someone’s been watching out for those girls. I’ve been worrying about them for four years. Never thought Martha had any family to fall back on.”

  * * *

  “Don’t you have anything to do, Waukau?” Will asked as the younger man trailed him into Handy’s Pawn and Bait.

  “I’m on leave. Time is all I got.”

  Will looked at a row of shotguns with a critical eye. He wanted something Martha could fire easily. But something that would bring down a bear. Gotta be prepared.

  Will pointed to the wall and the guy at the counter reached him down a double barreled shotgun. He started to explain, but when Will expertly examined the mechanism and asked for a glass to inspect the bore, he shut up. Will put the piece back together and tossed it to Rob. “Think that’s too heavy for Martha?”

  “Not really. She uses my pump action and this is a tad lighter. But don’t you think a semi would be safer?”

  “Not if it jammed on her. And she’s no expert. Probably won’t have a chance for more than two shots. She any good?”

  “Pretty fair. Trouble is she feels sorry for the deer. So she hits when it’s a target, and misses when she’s hunting.”

  “Soft hearted.” Will tested the weight of the shotgun again. “Wanna bet she turns ferocious mama bear if that son of a sea biscuit gets between her and Shelly?”

  Rob snickered. “No. Mind if I ask why a Navy SEAL swears like a little old lady hoping to be picked for the heavenly choir?”

  “You ever taught three three-year-old boys to swear, Waukau?” Will shook his head. “It’s a terrible thing to live down. Thought my sister-in-law was going to stake me to an anthill. Had to take the pledge.”

  “Huh. Well, I wondered is all.” Rob’s grin broadened.

  “Waukau, my Uncle Vanya is Ukrainian. He is the most inventively profane cusser in a nation of profane cussers—probably in the universe. You haven’t known shame until Uncle Van’s heard you call your own brother a fridgepucker.

  “And yet. Man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. Can’t have my baby nephews swearing like sailors.” Will ran a hand down the stock of the shotgun with approval. “I think this puppy is the one,” he told the clerk.

  Rob followed him out of the pawn store and into the next. And into yet another.

  As they came out of the fourth he said, “That’s the third shotgun you’ve bought today. Four stores. Three buys. I don’t get it. You weren’t even looking for a bargain. Old man Handy would have knocked a hundred off his asking price.”

  “Yeah, but he took that gun in pawn. So he would maybe have broken even. It’s a good gun. I didn’t need to cheat him. Folks have long memories in a small town.

  “When I marry your sister, and they find out my family owns a timber mill, they’re going to remember how I stiffed them and resent it for the rest of our lives. I wouldn’t do that to Martha. Heck, I wouldn’t do it to me.” He grinned at Rob. “You got a firing range in this
town.”

  “Yeah.”

  Out at the town dump, setting up a row of old tires, Rob asked, “So is your family rich then?”

  Will shrugged. “We do okay. Tell me something. Does everyone in this town work for the casino?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Band doesn’t own the timber?” Will gestured at the forest around them.

  “Sure does.”

  “No logging rights?”

  “We got logging rights, and hunting rights, but if we log then we can’t hunt. And when all the trees are gone, what then?”

  Will grunted and handed Rob some earplugs. “Let’s see which one of these pieces is best for your sister.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “When was the last time you were in bear form?” Will asked Martha on Friday afternoon as they walked in the clearing beyond his cabin. For the thousandth time he blessed Mary Deer. The little bear had been excited to spend the weekend learning basket weaving and running after three little girls.

  “I don’t know,” Martha said. “I don’t have time for that kind of foolishness.”

  “Your bear isn’t some sort of luxury, sweetheart. It’s an essential part of you.” Will took Martha’s hand and pulled her out of the path of what looked like poison ivy. Poison ivy took a variety of shapes, and you couldn’t be too careful. “You have to feed your bear so it’s there for you when you need it.”

  “And that would be never.” Martha was dismissive.

  For a member of the Ancestral Bear Clan, living in one of the few communities where shifters were honored, not feared, Martha was awfully disparaging about being a shifter. Not good.

  “It’s kept me alive on many a mission,” Will said tranquilly.

  “Really?”

  “Sure. I listen to my bear if something seems the least little bit wrong. And I can usually read people and sense if they’re lying or trustworthy. I would never ignore my bear instincts. They’re part of my arsenal.”

  “Well I don’t get into fights. I don’t have much use for animal instincts. Human senses are quite sufficient.” To Will’s ears, Martha sounded primly defensive as well as disgusted.

  “Hmm.” This was no time to argue. He led her around a stand of trees to the little lake that gave Crane Lake Resort its name. Four wooden loungers were laid out in a short row on the neatly trimmed grass. The water lapped gently on a shore made up of small, glossy yellow pebbles. The marsh land on the far shore hummed with wild birds.

  “Oh,” Martha exclaimed. “Look at that duck. Do you know what kind it is? I haven’t ever seen a duck with so many colors!”

  “City girl,” said Will fondly. “It’s a Mandarin drake. Do you see the charcoal grey job with the white spots on the edges of its white breast?” He pointed. “That’s his mate.”

  “She’s pretty too. But not so flashy, except she has these little blue feathers near her tail.”

  “Very pretty,” he said indulgently. But he was looking at Martha.

  “Why didn’t I know this existed?”

  “That I don’t know, sweetheart.” Will ignored the loungers, which seemed hard and narrow to him, and drew Martha down onto the clean, sweet smelling grass. He took her weight with his chest and felt her relax as the sounds of the birds and the rustling of the trees seeped into her. It was becoming obvious that this Martha had even less time for nonsense than the old one.

  He inhaled the delicate scent behind her ear. She smelled wonderful. Of course she did. She was his mate. But she should have been vibrating with lust out here in June. Her scent should be making him wild instead of contented. He would take contentment after four years without her, but it wasn’t right. He had to get her turned on to her inner bear.

  She gave him an opening. “Tell me about Hannah,” she begged.

  “Well I just met her, but she seems really smart and kind and fertile.” He chuckled.

  “Fertile. Does she have kids? Do I have nieces and nephews?” She was excited.

  “Not yet. But she and Jack had themselves an itty bitty reunion before his leave got canceled. And by the time Mom and I got hold of her and brought her back to Hanover, she was pregnant.” He laughed. “You should have seen her face when Mom told her how delighted she was to be already a grandma.”

  “How did your mother know?” Martha sounded honestly bewildered.

  “The same way I knew. She smelled pregnant. Same way I know you’re not in season even though it’s June.”

  “Women don’t have seasons!”

  “Bears do. And you Martha, my darling, are not even the littlest bit aroused.” He nuzzled her neck. “Seems a shame.” He turned her slightly and kissed her tenderly, sweeping his tongue delicately around her mouth and sampling the delicate tissues under her tongue.

  Martha kissed him back, but her temperature didn’t rise and her scent didn’t change in response to his. He sighed and pulled away. He kissed her cheek and pulled her back against his chest, enjoying the weight of her breasts on his linked forearms.

  “I don’t know what you want,” she said crossly.

  “Passion. Joy. Delight. But I can wait.” He kissed the back of her neck and moved a hand to pull pins out of her bun.

  She clutched his hand defensively. “Stop that, it’ll just explode.”

  “I love your hair. I love it when it’s tousled. I love it when it’s flat ironed. Exploding curls sound good. I want to run my fingers through it.” He unwound the heavy rope and loosened it. True to her prediction it sprang into a frizzy mass. He dug his fingers gently through it and separated the curls, tickling her scalp and the nape of her neck until she relaxed and sank into his body.

  He looked around him. The clearing was as empty as it had been for the last three days. “Let’s go swimming.”

  “I don’t have a suit.” Martha sounded horrified.

  “No one here but us bears.” Will stood up and began to unbutton his blue and white shirt. He removed it and stood bare chested in the breeze. His pecs and biceps bulged. His black chest hair curled around his dog tags and petered out around the bottom of his ribs into a lush trail that disappeared into his jeans.

  He sat on the grass and untied his sneakers and took off his socks. He didn’t look at her. “Come on, it’ll be fun.” He stood up barefooted. His feet were as long and muscular as she remembered. His hands went to his belt and unbuckled it. He unbuttoned his jeans and pulled down the zipper.

  Reluctantly, Martha pulled her sandals off and took off her jeans. She removed her panties and tucked them under the jeans. Why had she put on that frayed and faded pair of granny panties this morning? Suddenly he was there naked. His big muscular hands were on her tee-shirt pulling it over her head. He fondled the skin of her belly and bottom before undoing her bra strap. He pulled it off her breasts and tossed it on top of the baggy tee-shirt. It coiled like a lax grey snake.

  He took her hand and drew her down to the edge of the water. When she balked at the feel of the stony shore he scooped her into his arms and walked out into the lake carrying her. The sun had warmed the shallow area near the shore and when he sat down with her they plunged into a tepid bath. She squealed a little anyway and he kissed the top of her head.

  She was sitting pressed against his fully erect cock. She could feel every inch of its broad barrel and hard length on her bottom. He rubbed her in a gentle circle. “This isn’t much like swimming,” she objected.

  “No it’s not,” he growled. And took bear form so suddenly she backed away in fright. He clicked reassuringly at her and she stood still. He turned and began to swim into the deep water. He dove and came up in a joyful gush of water. He made louder clicks.

  Martha felt foolish standing nude in the lake while Will frolicked and ogled her. She dove into the water and tried to see the bottom, but there was too much silt. Fishes swam by and without thought she put out a great paw and caught one. The big male beside her grunted in a friendly fashion and dove deep, coming up by the ducks. They scattered in
a great flurry and he executed a somersault and came back to her side.

  He butted her gently with his head on her neck and backed off. Martha ate her fish as if it was the most delicious meal of her life. The mandarin duck that had seemed so colorful before had faded to dull, but she could smell the difference between the male and the female more clearly than she had seen their contrasting plumage with her human eyes. Far away she heard the sound of a red cockaded woodpecker digging a nest cavity as the most delightful drumming. The world seemed full of wonder.

  Will dove again and came up a hundred yards away. He did a barrel roll and surfaced with a rush of water. Martha didn’t think, she just followed him into deeper water. He chased her and tapped her gently on her rear and took off with a thrust of mighty hind legs. Martha gave chase, tunneling through the water as though she had played this game a hundred times. Eventually her mate let her catch him.

 

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