Fate Mountain - Complete

by Scarlett Grove

  It was the house he'd grown up in. Being able to restore it was a source of pride for him. That couldn’t match the pride he felt bringing home his mate. As he helped her through the front door, he couldn't believe that this was all actually happening. Just a few hours ago he'd been a grumpy grizzly, thinking about his mother's pressure to find a mate. And now here she was, his fated mate in his arms.

  Of all the ways it could have happened, she’d crashed right onto his ranch. Almost every other shifter he knew who'd found his mate had been matched on Mate.com. But after all these years of being on the dating website, Connor had instead found his mate in a car crash.

  There was something kind of hilarious about that, but he wasn't quite sure what. Mia looked around when she entered the front room. In the old Victorian layout, it had been the front parlor. He’d knocked out a couple of walls and turned the bottom floor into an open concept modern home.

  He had a big living room that opened up into an equally big kitchen with brand-new appliances and granite countertops. That was a touch that he was particularly proud of since he and a few of his buddies had installed all of it.

  His friend Angus was one of the most well-known woodworkers in this part of Oregon. Angus made the custom black cherry cabinets that graced his beautiful new kitchen. He thought of all the holiday meals he would help prepare for his new bride and their family.

  Mia let out a sigh at his side and it broke him out of his fantasies. He couldn't exactly start cooking Christmas dinner for his new bride when she didn't even know her own last name. He helped her into the living room and she took a seat on the sectional couch that his mom insisted would look the best in his big living room. Connor's favorite part of the room was the big screen TV where he liked to watch sports.

  “I'll get you some tea. What kind do you like?” he asked.

  “Tea?” she repeated, looking up at him blankly. “I don’t know if I even like tea.”

  “Coffee?” he asked.

  “I don't know if I can handle caffeine with this pain medication I'm on,” she said. “Maybe I'll have some herbal tea. Do you have chamomile?”

  “I have fresh dried chamomile from the garden.”

  He hurried into the kitchen and pulled the Mason jar of dried chamomile flowers out of the cabinet and set it on the granite countertop. Then he grabbed his chrome kettle and held it under the faucet before putting it back on the stove.

  Connor grew some nice juicy tomatoes in the summertime and he kept a supply of fresh and dried herbs on hand at all times. He mostly had the herbs for the rubs that he used on his steaks. And everybody loved his steaks. Thinking about it, he decided he was definitely going to make his mate steak and potatoes for dinner, ‘Connor Milton’ style.

  The tea kettle whistled when the water was boiled. Connor poured it over the dried herbs in a tea strainer and let it steep. After a couple of minutes, he added a dollop of honey and a little bit of cream and brought the cup to Mia in the living room. He handed it to her and she accepted it with both hands. Bringing the big widemouth porcelain cup to her lips she took a deep inhale of the aroma and then let out a deep sigh.

  “This smells delicious. I guess I do like chamomile tea after all,” she said.

  “Is it bringing back any memories?”

  “I'm afraid not.”

  “Maybe something in your suitcase will jog your memory,” he said. “It’s in the back of the truck. They gave it to me at the hospital. I'll be right back.”

  He hurried outside and grabbed her suitcase from the back seat of his crew cab pickup and brought it into the house to set on the couch beside her.

  “This doesn't even look familiar,” she said, looking up at him sadly.

  He knew that she must be hurting. Of course she was. The poor woman couldn't even remember her last name. He couldn't imagine what that must be like. But he vowed as he sat down next to her on the couch that he would do absolutely everything in his power to help her.

  Mia unzipped the suitcase and looked inside. All Connor could see was a bunch of clothes. She rifled through them and picked up a T-shirt with a comical painting of a narwhal on it. Mia draped it over her chest and gave Connor a questioning look.

  “Apparently, this is my fashion sense,” she said flatly.

  “I think it's pretty cute,” he said.

  “Okay,” she said, wadding up the T-shirt and throwing it back in the suitcase. “I would have to have lousy taste.”

  “I don't think it's so bad. It looks like you’re kind of hip or something. Like your hairstyle. I like the pink tips.”

  Mia took a lock of hair in her hand and examined the dyed pink tips on her brown hair. She raised an eyebrow and looked back at him.

  “If you say so,” she said. “I don't think it's that great. I'm beginning to question what kind of woman I was in the first place.”

  “I'm sure you’re a fantastic woman,” Connor said. “And I don't want you talking trash about my fated mate.”

  “About being your fated mate,” she started. “We should probably discuss that.”

  “Okay,” he said, his heart sinking.

  She couldn't already want to get rid of him. She didn't even have her memory back yet. How could she possibly make a decision about their relationship if she didn't even know her own last name?

  “It's probably a mistake for me to jump into a new relationship. Maybe I'm married and have three children waiting for me at home.”

  “That could be,” Connor said, thinking it over.

  He hadn't even considered that before. What if she did have a husband and three kids? His heart sank farther into the pit of his stomach and started to fester there. That would be just his luck. For his fated mate to crash right into his property, lose her memory, and then end up already married with children.

  What would his mother say?

  “I don't think you're married,” he continued. “If I was your husband, I wouldn't let you drive on an icy road in the mountains before it's even light outside.”

  “I would hope that you wouldn’t try to stop me from doing things like driving on a snowy road,” she said.

  “You like living dangerously. I can respect that,” he said with a chuckle.

  She let out a deep sigh and slumped in her chair. “I suppose you're right. It was dangerous. I really wonder why I’m here. Nothing seems familiar. No one in town recognized me. It just doesn't even make sense.”

  “I know why you are here,” he said.

  She looked up at him hopefully.

  “You’re here to be my fated mate.”

  Her shoulders slumped again and she groaned.

  “For some reason, I don’t think that's it.”

  “Mia, this is Fate Mountain and strange things happen here. Ask any shifter you meet and they'll tell you that if there's a way for a shifter and his mate to come together, it will happen on Fate Mountain. Mark my words.”

  “I don't doubt you, Connor. I just doubt that’s why I was driving on the snowy road first thing in the morning. There has to be some other reason. Where was I heading? What was I doing? What's on the other side of the mountain?”

  “Fate Valley. Does that ring any bells?”

  “Not really.”

  “All of those mysteries will be solved when you get your memory back. The doctor was sure that it would come back at any moment. I wouldn't worry too much about it, Mia. Everything is going to be fine. I was thinking of making steak and potatoes for dinner tonight. How does that sound to you?” he asked, trying to change the subject. He didn’t want to spend too much time thinking about some other husband waiting for her.

  “That sounds fine,” she said. “But I'm still pretty concerned about who I am and where I come from.”

  “I think the best thing for you to do is stop worrying and try to relax. Anxiety never helped anybody with anything as far as I know.”

  “Haven't you ever heard of the fight or flight response? Anxiety helps people all the time.”


  “Stress doesn't help anybody. They say it's the number one cause of death.”

  “Now I know you're making that up,” she said, giggling.

  He was making it up, but he’d made her laugh and that’s all that mattered.

  “I'm going to start dinner,” he said. “How do you like your steak?”

  Chapter 5

  Mia sat down at the table for the big feast that Connor had spent the last hour cooking in the kitchen. She'd been sitting in the living room, watching shows on TV while he worked away across the house, making a special dinner for her. Her mouth had watered at the scent of baking biscuits in the oven and the smell of grilling steaks. Connor forked one of the half a dozen steaks piled on a platter in the middle of the table and lifted it onto his plate.

  Mia grabbed a biscuit and pulled it apart, revealing the flaky center. Connor had cooked it from scratch and it smelled absolutely divine. She scooped up a dollop of butter and spread it over the hot biscuit and then took a bite. It melted in her mouth and it was so delicious it almost made the pain in her head go away.

  “This is so good, Connor. You really are a very good cook.”

  “Most shifters are good cooks. Especially bear shifters. We love our food.”

  “I have no idea if I can or cannot cook, but I know for sure that I like to eat.”

  She dished up the baked potatoes and steak onto her plate along with some garlic green beans and another biscuit. She had just taken a pain pill and was feeling a whole lot better as she sliced into her meat. The first taste of Connor’s grilled, homegrown steak melted in her mouth. She groaned as she chewed and her eyes rolled back in her head. It was even better than the biscuit.

  “Wow if I could eat like this every day, that would be a really good reason to keep you around,” she said.

  “That's not the only reason,” he said suggestively.

  She couldn't help blushing and glanced up into his eyes for a split second before looking away. Connor Milton was a dreamboat. That was a term that popped into her head out of nowhere. Who said things like dreamboat?

  Apparently, she did, and she had gotten it from somewhere. Where? She still had no idea. But at least it was a clue. From the pink-tipped dyed hair to the weird graphic T-shirts in her suitcase she hoped that the woman she used to be wasn't a weirdo. But if she was a weirdo, she figured she was going to have to deal with it eventually. She'd rather be a weirdo with memories than normal with none.

  She asked Connor about his ranch instead of thinking about her past. He told her about how it had been in the family for six generations. After his father passed away, the ranch had been left to him. He’d remodeled almost the entire house and had made it into a really nice place. He also informed her that when he'd started the renovation, it was with the intention of finding his fated mate and bringing her to live here.

  His words made her blush even harder and she wanted more than anything to hide the heat in her face from his scorching eyes. Connor Milton was smoking hot. He had a great house. He had friends and family and a community who trusted him, but Mia had just met him.

  She also didn't even know her own name. It probably wasn't a good time to be making life decisions about fated mates, or anything else for that matter. But she did know that she appreciated Connor’s help, his cooking, his sense of interior design, and his humor.

  After dinner Connor grabbed her suitcase and carried it up the stairs to the second floor. He showed her into a guest room with a brass bed with a handmade patchwork quilt over it. He set the suitcase in the corner and stood near the door.

  “There’s a guest bath through that door,” he said, pointing. “If you need anything, I’m just down the hall.”

  “Thank you, Connor,” she said.

  “Good night, Mia,” he said, closing the door.

  She kicked off her shoes and pulled off her dirty clothes before going into the bathroom to turn on the shower. The guest bathroom was well appointed with an old fashioned clawfoot tub. She turned on the faucet and waited for it to fill before stepping into the warm water. Mia slowly sat down, holding onto the sides of the tub. She let out a deep sigh as the warm water started to work through her sore muscles.

  As she soaked, dark thoughts ran through her brain. She couldn't stop wondering who she was or where she had come from. Connor told her she shouldn't worry, but she didn't know what else to do. Having no memories was the only thing she knew about herself. How was she supposed to not think about it?

  After she had soaked in the bath for a long time she climbed out and toweled herself off. She changed into a pair of pink bunny pajamas and climbed into bed. Mia was bone tired and it didn't take long for her to fall into a deep sleep. In the misty twilight of dreamland, the sights and sounds of the past swirled just beyond consciousness.

  She was running and it was dark. Strange men were chasing her through the mists. She couldn't get away. She owed them something, something they would take from her. They wouldn't take no for an answer. Her only option was escape.

  Mia woke up the next morning with a start, her brow sweaty and her heart racing. The dream had been all too real. And she believed that it was a clue to her identity. Who were those men that were chasing her? And what could they possibly want? She climbed out of bed, feeling less pain and less ache than she had the day before.

  Mia made her way into the bathroom to wash her face. She looked up at herself in the mirror, barely recognizing the woman looking back at her. She had long straight brown hair, almond shaped brown eyes, a turned up little nose and full pink lips.

  She looked at her profile from side to side and then decided that even with bags under her eyes and a bandage on her head she wasn't half bad looking. Carefully, she unwound the bandage and found the wound on her temple wasn’t as bad as she’d thought. It was mostly just bruised, with a little gash that looked mostly healed. She rifled through the bathroom cabinets and put a Band-Aid on the little cut.

  She walked back out into the bedroom and got dressed for the day, hoping that more clues to her identity would be revealed sooner rather than later. She could get on with her life and not have to draw out what would inevitably be a disappointment for poor Connor Milton.

  If she did have a husband who loved her, she would have to go home to him. Poor Connor would lose out. He seemed to be banking on her being single, and that she would choose to stay with him when she remembered who she was.

  There was no way she could guarantee that, no matter how cute and sweet and kind he was. The more Mia thought about it, the more she realized that anyone would be lucky to have a man like Connor wanting to be her fated mate.

  But Mia was not just an ordinary woman, she was a woman with a past and a secret that she could not remember. It wasn't fair for her to lead Connor on any longer. She was going to have to tell him that any possibility of romance between them was out of the question. In her opinion, that was the only way to keep from hurting him.

  He had helped her in so many ways, she had to let him down gently. She couldn't possibly commit to him, and that was what he wanted more than anything.

  As soon as she stepped out of the bedroom and into the hallway on the second story of Connor’s farmhouse, she smelled the delicious scent of frying bacon and pancakes on the griddle. The smell of coffee wafted up the stairs and her mouth started to water as soon as she got to the bottom floor.

  She turned the corner into the kitchen and found Connor sliding a pancake onto a plate. He had already prepared a spot for her at the kitchen counter. She slid onto the stool in front of it. Everything was set and ready. A cup of coffee, a cup of OJ, a stack of silver dollar pancakes covered in fresh berry syrup and crispy bacon.

  “Another triumph of your cooking skills,” Mia said.

  “This?” Connor asked. “This is nothing. I cook like this every day.”

  “A girl could get used to this.”

  She forked the pancake and shoved a piece into her mouth.

  “A girl co
uld get used to this, huh? Does that mean you're sticking around?” he asked.

  “I probably should talk to you about that.”

  “About what?”

  “I can't remember who I am. And I could have a husband and children. I can't possibly commit to you. You have to understand that.”

  “I know,” he said, shoving a slice of bacon into his mouth.

  He was taking the news well, but she could see by the look on his face that he was disappointed.

  “It isn't because I don't think that you would be an excellent fated mate. Because I think you would be. It just can't be.”

  “A shifter only has one fated mate.”

  “I'm sorry, Connor,” she said.

  He looked so dejected she couldn’t stand it. This was the last thing she wanted to happen. She hadn’t wanted to hurt him. It made her heart ache knowing she’d done just that. More than anything she wanted to make him feel better. She just didn't know how.

  “So Christmas is coming soon, isn’t it?” she asked, trying to change the subject to something happier. She’d seen the decorations in the hospital.

  “Christmas is two weeks away. And I'm going to have to explain to my mother how I let my fated mate slip through my fingers.”

  “Why is it any of your mother’s business?” Mia asked.

  “Oh believe me, it's her business. She makes it her business.”

  “Let's just take this one day at a time. Neither of us knows what my situation is. But I can say that I don't want to cheat on any husband that I might have. I'm sure you can understand that.”

  “Of course I understand. You're a good woman and that only makes me want you more,” he said, his smile returning to his lips.

  Mia's heart almost melted. He completely changed her mind about keeping her boundaries in that moment. The chances were just as good that she wasn't married.