Spring Feve

by Emerald Wright

  “Thank you.”

  She stood and walked to where Jimmy sat. He looked up at her with the same big brown eyes as his father. The day he was born, she knew he’d grow up to be the spitting image of his father. He’d be a real heartbreaker… if he lived long enough.

  “Are you ready to go?” she asked.

  He nodded. “I’m tired, Mommy.”

  They’d been in the doctor’s office less than thirty minutes, but the light had already faded from his eyes. The familiar look of exhaustion turned his normally pale skin to a sickening shade of gray. A piece of her died every day that passed without a cure. She’d never wanted to talk to Brady again, but what choice did she have?

  She clasped Jimmy’s hand in hers and led him through the snow-covered parking lot to the car. After buckling him into the car seat, she pulled out of the hospital parking lot. She paused at the intersection to Highway 191. She could turn right, go home, and hope that Dr. Landry could find a cure through her research.

  Or, she could turn left and drive straight up to the small town of West Yellowstone. Her mother owned the Huckleberry Pie Shop on Electric Street. She could leave Jimmy with her while she made the trek out to Brady’s family’s ranch.

  She squeezed the steering wheel. Although she wanted to avoid a confrontation with Brady’s brothers, she had no choice. They’d know if he was still in Afghanistan. She’d find a way to make them tell her. She wasn’t afraid of five bear shifters. So what if they could transform into grizzlies and tear her limb from limb? She’d face death in order to save her son. No one mattered more than him. Brady would be mad—no, he’d be furious—but he’d help her, wouldn’t he?

  Hours later, she pulled into the parking lot behind the pie shop. Jimmy sat sleeping. She hated to have to wake him. The peaceful expression on his face was rare. She’d learned to treasure every moment of happiness he had in his short, painful life.

  She stepped out of the car into the chilly winter wind. Clouds loomed in the distance. According to the news radio station, it wouldn’t snow until tonight. It was already three p.m. and the sun hung low in the horizon. The trip to the ranch would take at least thirty minutes, depending on how well the brothers had maintained the road. She’d be lucky to make it back by nightfall.

  The back door to the pie shop swung open to reveal her mom. Dressed in a faux fur-lined teal jacket, matching boots, and a patchwork shirt and skirt, she exuded eccentricity. Wild blonde hair spiked out from under the hood. Two months ago her hair had been jet black and she’d shown up clad in a leather biker outfit. She changed her look faster than she changed the menu at her shop. But beyond the crazy outfits, her mom was the most wonderful woman in the world.

  Hands on her hips and a grin on her face, June bustled over to the car. “Why didn’t you call? I would have had Leah take over the shop until closing.”

  Rachel turned to embrace her mom. At fifty years old, June had the energy of someone half her age. She’d always said good food and good friends made for a long life.

  “We just came up from the hospital.”

  June frowned. “How’d it go?”

  She glanced at her son to make sure he was still sleeping. “Not good. The doctor said he needs a bone marrow transplant.”

  “Okay. I can help you through the surgery.”

  Rachel shook her head. Her voice wavered. “Not from me.”

  “What do you mean? Why not?”

  “I don’t have any shifter blood. So…”

  Her mom’s eyes widened with realization. “Oh, crap.”

  “I have to find Brady.”

  June let out a low whistle. “How do you plan to do that?”

  “I’m going to the ranch.”

  “Alone?”

  She shrugged. “It’s not like they’re going to tear me to pieces.”

  June arched a brow. “Are you sure about that?”

  Jimmy’s eyes fluttered open. “Namma!”

  After swooping in to unbuckle him from the car seat, June scooped him up. “How’s my favorite grandson?”

  He grinned. “I got to play with blocks.”

  Rachel noted the flush on his cheeks. She placed the back of her hand to his forehead. It wasn’t hot. Thank God. Most of the time, he was so pale that even the slightest change was cause for alarm.

  “I hate having to leave him with you, but I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “Where are you going, Mommy?”

  June said, “She needs to go visit her friend. Why don’t you come inside and I’ll get you a cup of hot cocoa.”

  He shrieked, “With marshmallows?”

  June laughed. “I have some that are peppermint-flavored.”

  He screwed up his face. “I want the little ones.”

  “I’ll let you try one and see if you like it,” June said.

  Rachel rubbed her hands together before stuffing them into the pockets of her coat. “He needs lunch first. I gave him a snack on the road, but I didn’t even stop at home to grab a change of clothes. I just wanted to get here as quickly as possible.”

  “Good thing I went to Packer’s and stocked up on Christmas presents. I should probably run over to Old Faithful Grocery to grab some toothbrushes.”

  Rachel said, “I’m sorry I didn’t call. I hate putting you out like this.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I love surprise visits. I’ll take care of Jimmy. You should get going. The north road is plowed but the south road isn’t. Be careful, it can get icy when you get closer to the lake.”

  “I will, Mom.”

  “I’ll want a play-by-play when you get back.”

  Rachel couldn’t help but smile. Although her mom was more of a best friend than a mother, she shifted between roles effortlessly. “If I’m not back by eight, send in the park rangers.”

  “If you’re not back by eight, I’ll send in the Marines.” June laughed as she turned and walked with Jimmy toward the building.

  As soon as the door to the shop closed, the smile fell from Rachel’s face. She climbed into the car and carefully pulled onto the main road. After turning onto the highway, she cranked the heater up. The old car rattled in protest before it relented and spit warmth into the car.

  She’d had to sell her brand-new car when the first round of medical bills had rolled in. After the second round, she’d had to sell her jewelry except for one piece—the gold promise ring Brady had given her the night they’d broken up. She couldn’t bring herself to sell it or to give it away. At one point, she’d thought she was going to marry him. How could she have been so wrong?

  Shadows stretched down from the pine trees which lined the highway. Darkness descended faster in the winter, but she should be able to reach the ranch by nightfall.

  After almost missing the turn, she veered off onto the snow-plowed road. She hadn’t been to the ranch since the night she’d left Brady. Memories of warm winter nights in his arms flooded her mind. They’d been so in love. They’d spent every moment planning their future together. But a single conversation had destroyed everything. She’d been stunned by how quickly her life had changed.

  As the road narrowed, she concentrated on keeping the car on the slippery road. One wrong move and she’d slide off into a ditch. She couldn’t risk having an accident. There’d be no one but her mom to take care of Jimmy. Rachel didn’t want to saddle her with the responsibility of raising her son. Her mom had enough trouble stretching the shop’s meager winter earnings until the summer. She couldn’t afford to take on anything more.

  Overhead, the trees thickened. She flicked on the high beams to cut a path through the twilight. According to the odometer, she should be coming up to the turn-off for the ranch. She hoped she still recognized it.

  Off to the left, the trees broke to reveal Hebgen Lake. The huge lake covered over twenty-one miles of land. She’d spent many summers swimming in the cool water and fishing with her dad. A twinge of pain pierced her heart. He
’d died so young.

  She’d just graduated high school when he’d fallen down one day and never got up. The heart attack came without warning and stole the most important man in her life. Brady had been there for her through the horrible days, weeks, and months after the funeral. He’d never left her side, which made his announcement the night they’d broken up all the more devastating.

  Her front wheel caught a patch of black ice, which sent her skidding around the corner. She turned into the spin and stopped just inches from the edge of the road. When she looked up, the headlights illuminated the sign for the ranch: Curvy Bear Ranch, ¼ miles ahead.

  She took a deep breath and blew it out. She had to stay focused. She wasn’t here to rekindle old memories, she was here to find out how to get in touch with Jimmy and save her son’s life.

  ***

  Brady stepped back toward the edge of the ring as the mustang reared up and snorted a puff of steamy air from his nostrils. The horse kicked and whinnied in a display of pure obstinacy. The second his hooves hit the floor, he took off at a frantic gallop. Although his right flank grazed the metal poles along the side of the ring, he didn’t stop.

  Brady knew better than to get between a wild horse and the ring, so he stepped into the center of the circle. “Whoa, Fender.”

  The sleek, black animal slowed to a trot, but Brady needed to wait until the horse calmed down a bit before attempting to take the reins. After several weeks of training, he’d planned on riding Fender for the first time today, but the horse wasn’t cooperating.

  When Fender finally slowed to a walk, Brady held up his hand. “Stop.”

  The horse slowed, but continued its path around the ring. Brady waited. He had all the patience in the world when it came to animals. He understood their instinct to run free and not be tied down. He’d wanted the same thing when he’d joined the Marines. Although he loved serving his country, he couldn’t forget the terrible things he’d seen while deployed.

  He shook away the horrifying images and returned his attention to Fender. At least now he could take his time and not rush headlong into a dangerous situation. He had all winter to get the horses ready for the influx of tourists in the spring. Although most of the ranch’s money came from the bed and breakfast, a sizeable portion came from other ranch-based revenue streams like riding lessons.

  Fender came to a stop on the opposite side of the ring. He stood with his head cocked toward the center. His ear cupped toward Brady, a clear indication that the animal’s focus was on him. Ultimately, horses followed a leader and Brady needed to show the mustang that he was in charge.

  As he took a step toward the stallion, he was careful to keep his shoulders squared and his head held high. To exude anything less than pure dominance would make the entire session pointless.

  “Easy, boy.”

  He advanced slowly. Fender used one hoof to lightly paw the ground. Yesterday, he’d bolted before Brady could grab the reins. Today looked far more promising. He pulled a carrot from his back pocket. A little bribery never hurt.

  Fender sniffed and shifted his weight slightly as if ready to take a step forward. He eyed Brady warily, but eventually his desire for the treat won. He inched forward and stretched his neck as far as it would reach. Brady didn’t move. He wanted the horse to come to him.

  Another couple of steps brought the stallion face to face with him. The awareness in the animal’s gray eyes connected with something in Brady’s soul. To be taken from a life of pure freedom to a life of restraint wasn’t easy. When he was learning to control his inner bear, he’d fought plenty of battles between the wildness in his soul and the need to contain his power. Ultimately, he’d learned to shift at will.

  The horse jutted his head forward to snatch the carrot from the palm of Brady’s hand. Fender took a step back. As he chomped on the sweet treat, he continued to watch Brady. When he finished eating, he looked at Brady expectantly.

  Brady pulled another carrot from the back pocket of his jeans and offered it to the horse. As the animal chewed, Brady slowly reached forward to pet its muzzle. The coarse fur scratched against his palm. With each stroke, he sensed a change in the horse’s attitude. A thin thread of trust linked them together. Brady could build on that. Trust was one of the most important qualities in any relationship, especially in the relationship between a man and his horse.

  After gently gathering the horse’s reins, he led him toward the barn. With winter in full effect, he wanted to get the horse wiped down and blanketed before nightfall.

  The interior of the state-of-the-art barn boasted an industrial-sized heater. Stalls filled with horses lined either side of the large building. At last count, they housed twenty-five horses. When spring came, every one of the horses would need to be trail ready and capable of taking even the greenest rider. He had no doubt he’d have them ready.

  He grabbed a winter curry comb which he used to brush sweat and dirt out of Fender’s fur. Ever aware of the horse’s fragile temperament, he carefully navigated the space around his ears, behind his elbows, along his girth area, and under his jaw. He finished by toweling him off.

  Once he’d secured a blanket over the horse, he offered him another carrot. “Good job, boy.”

  The horse chomped greedily. When he finished, he flicked his head up as if to thank him. Brady stroked his muzzle. He was a fine creature and would be a great saddle horse once he’d been broken in.

  Satisfied with the day’s work, Brady stepped out of the stall and checked the other horses. He turned off the lights as he went, then closed and secured the barn doors. He couldn’t wait to step into a hot shower.

  As he strode up toward the main house, the scent of fresh-baked apple pie and some kind of roasted meat permeated the air. He sniffed in appreciation as his inner bear roared with approval. Their cook, Sarah Fink, had outdone herself again. If she ever left the ranch, they’d probably starve.

  Lights glowed from every window of the lodge-like home. A glittering Christmas tree sparkled through the lightly frosted living room window. A giant wreath of fresh pine branches and dried lemons decorated the front door. Christmas was a little over two weeks away, but he could hardly wait. He and his five brothers did everything in their power to recreate the magic they’d experienced as children. They kept up all the old traditions as a way of honoring their mom. She’d passed away two years ago and Brady still felt the loss as if it had been yesterday.

  He stepped onto the wraparound porch and sat on the wooden bench swing. He slid one boot off, then the other. The crunch of footsteps sounded along the gravel driveway. They weren’t expecting guests for another week. When he looked up, his heart dropped through his stomach.

  Rachel.

  Bundled in a huge red snow coat, the face that haunted his dreams stared back at him. Long, curly tendrils of chestnut hair bobbed with each step she took in his direction. The luminous green eyes he’d spent hours gazing into regarded him warily. Every inch of her luscious curves filled out a pair of skin-tight jeans.

  He stood on shaky legs, completely forgetting that he only wore socks. “Rachel?”

  She whispered, “You’re not in Afghanistan.”

  A rush of anger tightened his muscles. Every hurtful word she’d hurled at him came back in a rush. The last time he’d seen her, she’d swore she’d never speak to him again. She’d called him a coward and had claimed he’d never really loved her. She hadn’t understood his decision to leave, and he’d never forgotten the look of betrayal in her eyes.

  He tensed. “What are you doing here?”

  Chapter Two

  Rachel shivered less from the cold than from the look on Brady’s face. The initial shock of seeing him vanished as anger flashed in his eyes.

  “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

  She fought to keep her voice steady. “I didn’t know you were back.”

  “I’ve been back two months. I thought you’d moved to Bozeman.”
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  “I did.”

  He didn’t say anything. As the silence stretched between them, she tried to ignore the way the long-sleeved plaid shirt stretched across his huge biceps. She pretended not to notice his broad chest or thick, muscle-bound thighs.

  How many times had she wrapped her legs around his narrow waist? How many times had she peeled his shirt off to reveal the thick patch of wiry hair on his chest? How many times had she kissed the sensitive spot on the side of his neck where it met his collarbone?

  She shivered and looked away as white-hot fire rushed through her body. She hadn’t seen him in four years, and yet she knew he’d smell of nutmeg if she wrapped her arms around him. He’d taste like red wine and warm summer nights. His flesh would tremble under her roaming hands. And if she ever got him naked again, she knew he’d still be harder, thicker, and more virile than any man she’d ever met.

  He cleared his throat. “Why are you really here?”

  “I just wanted to see you. I wanted to see how you were doing.”

  “I’m fine.”

  She knew that tone. Threads of sadness bound his words together, but the underlying pain cut straight to her heart and stole her breath. The urge to step forward and pull him into her arms rolled through her like thunder. For a second, she forgot the real reason she’d come to the ranch. But the moment passed and she regained control.

  She said, “The ranch looks good. Your mom always does a great job decorating.”

  He grimaced. “She passed away two years ago.”

  She flinched and took a step forward. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

  “How could you? When I left for the Marines, you disappeared. You didn’t call. Didn’t write. I sent postcards to your mother’s house and I never heard anything. Did she give them to you?”

  “She did.”

  “And you chose to ignore them? Or maybe you’re just lying to protect your mom. She never liked me. She has a vendetta against shifters.”