by Anna Lowe
Go talk to her, then.
Talking. Right. Like he was any good at that kind of thing.
Show her we’re worthy.
That only made him despair, because he wasn’t worthy. His right hand didn’t have one-tenth the range of motion it used to have, and he had burn scars down the side of his chest. Other scars, too, like the long, jagged one that went from his ribs to his hip where a rogue wolf had almost gutted him back in the ambush in Montana. He wasn’t the bear he used to be. He’d never come close again.
So he didn’t bust through the wall or talk to her or anything else. He just lay quietly, staring at the ceiling. What was he doing in Arizona, anyway?
He snorted and filled in the answer. Being screwed by fate, that’s what he was doing.
Fate had been messing with him for months now — tricking him into fathering a child he’d never get to call his own, then allowing him to survive instead of dying an honorable death. Fate had taken away nearly every member of his family.
Clearly, fate was out to make him suffer in any way possible.
Which made his blood run cold. If Anna was his mate, fate could hurt her, too. That’s the way fate seemed to work — with sneaky, below-the-belt punches aimed at the ones he loved. Jesus, if he allowed himself to get closer to Anna, what might fate do then? Strike her down with a bolt of lightning? Let her wither away with cancer?
He clutched and clawed at the bedsheets, covered in sweat. If fate was a tangible enemy — a bear, maybe, or a hellhound or even a dragon — at least then he could fight it head on. But he was powerless. Absolutely powerless against fate and its cruel games.
If Anna really meant anything to him—
She means everything, his bear growled.
—he’d have to stay away from her. He couldn’t give fate another innocent victim to toy with.
He lay limp and sweating, gritting his teeth. Shit. Fate had already done that. Given him an incredible gift — Anna — only to whisk all hope away again.
He could practically hear fate’s laughter waft by on the wind.
* * *
That was just the first day, and the ones that followed were about the same.
Nights dragged by, one empty minute after another. An eternity later, dawn would tinge the horizon, coloring the white walls of his room with one shade of pink after another. The colors were bolder than those of a Montana sunrise, and they seemed to dare him.
Come on, bear. Show us what you got.
He’d flex and unflex the fingers of his right hand, wishing he could leave a claw mark across the wall.
Anna had offered to help in the café for the duration of her visit, so she always woke early, and though bears were usually sound sleepers, he never failed to wake up to listen to her tiptoe around. He’d lie perfectly still, fighting the urge to jump up and run over. To say good morning, to see her smile. Maybe even wrap her in his arms. It took every scrap of determination in his body to resist the call of her body, and his heart ached every time she padded down the stairs.
Mate, his bear hummed sadly. Need my mate.
Hanging around this place was going to kill him, but he had no clue where to go or what to do. He was only just getting used to walking around in human form, for Christ’s sake.
Plus, Anna was in no hurry to leave, either. Which would only make things harder in the long run, but a part of him still rejoiced. He savored every brief encounter, every fleeting glance.
Like every time they passed on the narrow stairway and stared into each other’s eyes.
Like when she brought him a drink or snack and gushed about whatever project he’d been working on.
“The bar is looking good,” she’d say.
Bar? What bar? He needed a minute to drag himself back to his surroundings, every time.
Work on the bar could only proceed in the mornings when the saloon was closed. Anna had volunteered to help waitress there, too, which meant everyone was busy in the evenings except him. He needed more than just a morning job. He needed the feeling of contributing to the clan.
So he’d walked through the apartment over the saloon where the others all lived when they weren’t working their tails off. The place had character, but it was run-down and badly in need of…well, everything. Especially a second bathroom, where progress had stalled because none of the others really had the time to devote to it.
Which meant he’d just found himself a job for those too-quiet afternoons. He sweated a new shower into place, laid tiles, and hooked up a shiny new sink. Two times out of three, his wrecked hand would slip or cramp, sending a bolt or clamp rolling across the floor. Glaring at his fingers didn’t help, but he did it anyway, giving the patchwork of scars there the evil eye. Then he’d grit his teeth, collect the parts, and start all over again, just to prove to fate he could spite it in one tiny way.
Soren or Simon would stop by to help when they could, and it was a little like old times, working on a project side by side. For a while, he’d turn off the part of his mind that grappled with the present and let himself slip away into the past.
Then the baby would wake from a nap and cry out to be held, and part of him would cry, too.
Those were the times he actually heard Teddy. Other times, Soren would go rushing down the hallway like the house was on fire when Todd hadn’t heard or sensed a thing.
“I didn’t hear him, either.” Simon once shrugged.
But Soren always heard the baby, no matter how close or how far he was. He knew when the baby was sleepy, when he wanted to play, when he needed to nurse. The man was so tuned in to that child, he beat Sarah to the crib at times. And if that didn’t prove Soren was the father, what did?
Todd worked his jaw from left to right and contemplated the empty sink.
Sarah had been avoiding him, and in a way, he was okay with that because the situation was awkward for him, too. The fact that the one night they’d slept together was only a vague blur in his mind didn’t help, nor did the knowledge that she’d been with Soren in spirit and not him. The worst part was that you were just a puppet in destiny’s machinery feeling he couldn’t quite stomach.
Think of something else. Think of something nice, he coached himself.
And zoom, his mind went right to an image of Anna, twirling a finger in her hair.
He forced the image away and replaced it with one of home. He closed his eyes, remembering Montana. The clean mountain air, the rushing creeks, the shady woods.
“You miss it?” he murmured.
“Miss what?” Simon asked absently, wearing his usual, blissed-out, I love my mate and my life look.
Right. Why would Simon miss Montana? He had a new life here, and it was a good one. Like Soren, Simon had settled down with a mate he adored. Business was booming in the saloon and the café. The only thing Simon didn’t have was a cub of his own, but Todd suspected that wasn’t far off — not seeing the way Jessica cuddled Teddy or the way Simon grinned while bouncing the little guy on his knee.
“My turn!” he’d protest when Janna tried to take Teddy away.
“My turn!” Jessica would chime in.
“My turn,” Soren would cut in, cuddling the baby close.
Watching them made his soul bleed, but it warmed his heart, too. The baby was loved. Cared for. Protected by his clan. Just the way it should be. What else could he wish the baby had?
His bear rumbled inside, not satisfied. Might not be ours to keep, but ours to help care for.
But how? How was he ever going to do that?
A week passed with him alternating between sanding the bar and working upstairs, and everyone had oohed and aahed when the bathroom was done.
“Oh, my God. I love you,” Janna said, squeezing into the room with everyone else. “I mean, I love Cole,” she added, giving her mate a reassuring pat on the arm. “But in terms of bathrooms, you’re my hero, man.”
His bear heaved a sigh inside. Some hero he made.
But Janna was serious, a
nd so were the others. Jessica even brought up a bottle of champagne and passed glasses around to everyone for a toast.
“You gotta celebrate the small stuff,” she said with a wink.
Yeah, small stuff. Maybe he ought to get used to that.
“Great job,” Anna agreed, holding her glass up to his. Their eyes met, and his heart just about jumped out of his chest with need.
Not need, he told his bear. Greed. We can’t have her. We have to keep her safe.
“Now you can get to work on the deck,” Janna quipped.
“Janna!” everyone scolded.
She put up her hands. “Well, he said he wanted work…”
Todd nodded quickly. He did. Back in Montana, he’d been busy all day, every day. Here, he was superfluous, and that was the hardest part. Teddy already had a devoted father and family. In fact, he wailed anytime Todd came close, which made the message loud and clear. Get out of here, stranger. You make me feel unsafe.
Christ, he would lay down his life for Teddy. He already had, in a way. And he’d do it again and again and again, not because he wanted to claim his son but because Teddy was clan.
And that was the only thing that kept him from wandering back into the woods and returning to life as a bear. That just-in-case feeling in the back of his mind. That feeling that evil could come crashing back into their world at any time.
That, and Anna. He just couldn’t bring himself to abandon his mate. So he worshiped her from a distance. Followed her every move from afar. Sipped her scent and clung to it like a sailor clinging to a sinking ship. That was all he allowed himself.
That was all he dared take.
Chapter Six
Anna counted the days since she’d arrived in Arizona. Five? Six? It was all a whirlwind, and her mind still spun with everything that had happened.
She’d found her cousin alive and well. She’d met a man who didn’t cease to intrigue her — no matter how quiet he was or how sweaty at the end of a hard workday. She’d been pitching in to help with what seemed like the hardest working group of people west of the Mississippi, and she loved every minute of it. So much, she sometimes wondered if she ever wanted to leave. There was such team spirit among her cousin’s new extended family, such drive. Being part of it gave her a greater sense of satisfaction than she’d had for a long time. Luckily, it was the slow season in the real estate market, so she could take some time off. But she couldn’t stay forever, even though she sometimes wished she could.
Sarah and her friends made good company. The work was honest. The baby was adorable. Plus, there was the perk of sharing digs with Herr Hunksome, Todd. There was a certain thrill to having him as a housemate. Despite the fact that he kept things strictly platonic, the man carried a permanent undercurrent of sexuality around. The second they got close, a little hum would start up — the kind an electric fence made, or a generator chugging somewhere in the distance. Whenever she looked Todd’s way, he’d avert those amazing blue eyes, always a moment too late to hide that he’d been peeking at her, too.
But there was a wounded warrior vibe to him, too. Some deep sorrow that made her wonder if she ought to just leave him alone — which took every bit of self-control she had. The more she waited, the more she felt the urgency of a ticking countdown.
Get this man, the desert seemed to whisper on the hot, lonely nights she spent lying alone, thinking of him. Make him yours before it’s too late.
Those words became part of a dream that visited her every night.
Too late for what?
Too late for you and for him, the voice said with a startling note of finality.
She’d wake with a shiver every time. Sometimes, a nightmare followed that dream. She was sprinting through the woods, fleeing some great evil. Then she tripped — every time, she tripped, even though she knew it was coming — and a man grabbed her. She struggled but couldn’t get free, and suddenly came face-to-face with the scarred sneer of Emmett LeBlanc.
You, he cackled, pinning her down.
Sometimes it was even worse. Sometimes, Emmett wrestled her to her feet and forced her to hold a rifle to a bear’s head.
Pull the trigger. Kill it. Kill it before I kill you. His face twisted in fury, and his fingers squeezed hers.
Bang! The rifle cracked through her dream, and she jolted upright with a cry.
She panted like she’d really been running and clutched the sheets.
“Anna?”
Her head snapped toward the shadow in the doorway, and a wave of relief washed over her when she realized it was Todd, checking if she was okay.
I’m okay. Fine. Thanks, she wanted to say, but all she could get out was a squeak.
Todd padded into the room and squatted down beside her. His chest was bare, his sweatpants low on his hips. He tilted his head at her, and his eyes showed the kind of pain only a man who’d experienced terrible things knew.
He sat on the bed and wrapped his thick arms around her. He tucked his chin over her head, enveloping her completely in what felt like a cloak of steel, and rocked her a little, promising nothing would get past him — no evil, real or perceived.
“I’m okay. I’m okay,” she managed a minute or two later, even though she never wanted him to let go.
He didn’t let go, thank goodness. Not for a long, long time, even after her breathing slowed and the sweat dried on her forehead. He kept right on holding her, and she had the distinct impression the comforting feeling wasn’t a one-way thing. Had her nightmares brought back visions of his own? Had she reminded him of something he’d rather have left in the past?
“It’s okay,” she murmured, swaying slowly with him.
A cat screeched somewhere down the back alley, and they both turned then finally edged apart.
“You good?” He cupped her face with one big hand — the one he usually kept clenched at his side, hiding the scars — and stroked her cheek with his thumb. It was the hand that she guessed had been crushed in an accident not too long ago, but it seemed to work pretty well now that it was touching her. Not too hard, not too soft. A strong, reassuring presence, like the rest of him.
“I’m good,” she whispered.
He looked at her a moment longer, then tugged her closer and kissed her on the forehead. A chaste, you’ll-be-okay-now kiss. Given that the good dreams she’d had all featured him kissing her in a totally different way, she ought to have felt frustrated or sad. But somehow, that kiss was just perfect for tonight.
“Goodnight,” he murmured, sliding away.
The only thing she would have changed would be to keep him curled up beside her for a few minutes. Better yet, hours.
“Goodnight,” she echoed, watching him go.
His chest rose and fell in a deep breath that told her leaving was the last thing he wanted to do, and she had to wonder what was developing between them. A profound friendship or something more?
She vacillated between those options for the rest of the night, fantasizing about how good it would feel to have him touch her in so many other places. God, to be wrapped up by that body, not just his arms. To be cherished by the soul that shone so clearly in those incredible blue eyes.
Keep dreaming, Anna, she decided, looking at her disheveled hair in the mirror the next morning. The slanting dawn light highlighted every tangle, every embarrassing clump, and by the time she’d straightened it enough to appear in public, Todd’s footsteps had retreated down the stairs and outside.
“Sleep well?” Sarah asked her when they bumped into each other over the coffee machine in the back room of the café.
She kept her eyes firmly on the wisps of steam rising from her mug. “Sort of. Kind of.”
“Well enough for a hike later today?” Sarah’s eyes sparkled.
Anna straightened, suddenly raring to go. A hike was just what she needed to take her mind off the nightmares. “God, yes. Anytime.”
Sarah laughed and clinked coffee mugs with her. “It’s been too long, hasn’t it?
”
“Way too long.”
Every summer when she’d visited Montana, she and Sarah had gone hiking. Short afternoon hikes to the sparkling creek at the bend in the trail. Long, all-day treks to mountain meadows covered in wildflowers. They’d even overnighted a few times, hiking all the way up to the saddle between Cooper’s Hill and Bear Mountain and pitching camp high above the tree line.
“Okay, then. It’s a date. We’ll go after work,” Sarah promised.
Business was slow enough that they could leave shortly before noon. It was hot out, but bearable. Soren was busy in the saloon, but Jessica had offered to keep an eye on the baby while they were gone.
Sarah checked her watch. “Okay, I’ve got four hours until mommy duty starts again.”
They headed for Anna’s car, where Soren caught up to them with a worried frown.
“You’re going hiking? Alone?”
“I’m not alone,” Sarah said. “I’m with Anna.”
“You know what I mean.”
A face-off ensued, and though they both kept perfectly silent, their facial expressions shifted and changed as if they were still in full conversation. Anna looked back and forth between them, wondering if they’d already developed the telepathy some older couples did after decades together.
Finally, Soren scratched his head. “Simon and I both have to work. Cole is still out on the ranch…”
“Why do we need anyone to go with us?” Anna demanded, bristling a little at the suggestion that they couldn’t handle things on their own.
Sarah and Soren exchanged pained looks.
“Janna was jumped at a bar not too long ago, and we had a break-in at the saloon,” Soren said. “It’s just better to be cautious, all right?”
She was about to protest, but it appeared that Soren had finished going through his mental list of escorts and finally decided on one.
“Todd,” he said. “Todd can go with you.”
That suggestion, Anna didn’t protest.
Sarah, on the other hand, pinched her lips, and her brow folded into worried lines. Anna couldn’t figure out why Sarah was so self-conscious around Todd. He was the same around her, in fact. When they finally squeezed into Anna’s little hatchback and set off, she glanced in the rearview mirror and noticed Soren watching them go. He didn’t look too happy, either, though it had been his idea.
