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Wildcat and the Rock Star (The Lone Pine Lodge Book 3)

Page 3

by Haley Jacobs


  “So am I,” said Barbara.

  Barbara knew she was strong, but this would push her to her limits. Still, officiating at Jake and Julia’s wedding was the right thing to do. So many shifters had found their mates at the Lone Pine. It was a place of love and magic. Barbara knew that as soon as she had arrived.

  The Lone Pine had helped Barbara heal. Even though her father had other ideas in mind when Barbara got the job at High Mountain, Barbara knew as soon as she arrived that she could leverage her position to help shifters who had no other place to go. Barbara’s own pain gave her the determination to help others.

  Barbara breathed deeply to get her emotions back under control. She dried her eyes and calmed herself.

  There was another knock at the door.

  Ryan, the Manager of the Lone Pine, stuck his head in the door.

  “Are you ready for our meeting?” asked Ryan.

  Ryan met weekly with Barbara. He had a knack for spotting shifters, and he used his position at the Lone Pine to keep track of who was staying there. Owl shifters like Ryan were well known for being psychic. His ability was enormously helpful in keeping Shifter Council spies from causing problems.

  “Sure,” said Barbara.

  “Are you okay?” asked Ryan. That whole psychic thing meant hiding anything from Ryan was impossible.

  “Yes and no,” said Barbara. “As much as I love Jake and Julia, the whole wedding is stirring up some old stuff.”

  Ryan twitched his head to the side. He always did that when his sixth sense kicked in. Barbara braced herself.

  “You may be able to get rid of the ‘old stuff,’” said Ryan. “But it seems the ‘old stuff’ isn’t able to get rid of you.”

  “Meaning…” said Barbara.

  “The ‘old stuff’ is being stirred up for a reason,” said Ryan. “I can’t figure out what that is at this point.”

  “Maybe so that I can deal with it once and for all,” said Barbara. “Is that what you’re saying?”

  “Maybe,” said Ryan. “Or maybe not.”

  Barbara cleared her throat, ready to close the subject.

  “So who do we have this week?” asked Barbara. “Anyone suspicious?”

  Ryan handed Barbara the list of guests staying at the Lone Pine. Shifters and their families were marked with an asterisk.

  “Not really,” said Ryan. “But there is a shifter either here or on the way that I can’t quite identify.”

  “That’s unusual,” said Barbara. “You usually nail all the shifters.”

  “It is unusual. I’m pretty sure it’s someone connected to the wedding party,” said Ryan. “But I’m not picking up any threats.”

  “That’s weird,” said Barbara.

  “I know,” said Ryan. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Besides, we have bigger fish to fry.”

  “Nothing good can come from a statement like that,” said Barbara.

  Ryan sighed. “As you know, Burwell Property Management owns the Lone Pine. They have a new controlling shareholder.”

  “That happens all the time,” asked Barbara. “What’s the problem?”

  “It’s Charles Gravier,” said Ryan. “Your father.”

  Barbara’s inner cat hissed. Barbara felt cold prickles on her skin.

  “Oh no! Really?” asked Barbara. “He can’t shut the Lone Pine down all by himself, can he?”

  “No,” said Ryan. “We have a 99-year agreement with Burwell, and the Lone Pine is still making the company money.”

  “So we’re okay?” asked Barbara.

  “We’re far from okay,” said Ryan. “The Lone Pine is a historic building. It needs about $5 million in repairs to stay open. We were counting on that money by the end of the summer. Without it, we’ll be condemned within a year or two. Charles—your father—has pledged to block the money.”

  “It’s just the excuse the Shifter Council needs to shut down the Lone Pine,” said Barbara. “Without a place to stay, we won’t get visitors to High Mountain. It’s likely the Department of Interior will put the Park on the chopping block. Is there anything we can do?”

  “Not unless you have $5 million hidden somewhere,” said Ryan.

  It was 10:30 PM. It was Ron’s turn to drive. Ron and Alf were taking turns sleeping and driving. Even at the late hour, it was broad daylight—June in Alaska. They had just passed through Tok, Alaska, and were headed toward Fairbanks, the last major city before High Mountain National Park. Alf had enjoyed having the much time with Ron, shooting the breeze about everything and nothing. Now they were driving in silence while Alf idly strummed the pink ukulele. They were about half way through the case of moonpies.

  The Lotus was truly an awesome piece of machinery, and Alf had a blast driving it. But it was clearly the wrong car for the Alaska State Highway. There were several mishaps involving some truly evil potholes, aggressive truckers and a near miss with a mother moose and a pair of calves. Ron’s beautiful new car was starting to look and sound like it had gone through the Battle of the Bulge.

  “Have you thought about what you are going to say to Barbara?” asked Alf. Ron was silent.

  “Ron?” asked Alf. Ron’s eyes were closed. He was asleep. “RON!”

  Ron’s eyes flew open. He jammed on the brakes and the Lotus spun twice, skidded off the highway and sideswiped a tree. The car came to rest, listing at a dangerous angle in a ditch by a dense thicket of pines.

  Ron blinked a few times. “Sheee-it! You okay, Alf?”

  “Uh huh,” said Alf. “You?”

  “Yeah,” said Ron. “I’m okay. But I’m not so sure about Ellie.”

  “Ellie?” asked Alf. “Who’s Ellie?”

  “The car,” said Ron. “I named her ‘Ellie.’”

  “Ellie,” said Alf, shaking his head. “Ron—and I say this as your friend, and in the most respectful way possible—you’re a fucking nut case.”

  Ellie the Lotus leaned toward Alf’s side of the car. His door wouldn’t open. Ron opened the driver’s side door and climbed out to survey the damage. Alf somehow managed to get past the center console, past the steering wheel, and climbed out. The pink plastic ukulele was still in his hands. Alf gently set the ukulele in the grass. He surveyed the damage. Both left side wheels were off the ground. Ron and Alf were stuck in the middle of nowhere.

  “So now what, Einstein?” asked Alf. Ron took off his cowboy hat and began unbuttoning his shirt.

  “Oh no,” said Alf. “No! Please tell me you’re not going to shift. You can’t be serious.”

  Ron was removing his boots and socks.

  “You got any better ideas?” asked Ron. “We’re miles away from the next town. They probably wouldn’t get to us until tomorrow morning. God gave us shifting for a reason, and we can’t get the car out of the ditch in our human form. We gotta shift and pull Ellie from the ditch.”

  “We? No!” said Alf. “Absolutely not!”

  “C’mon, Alf,” said Ron. “You’ve gotta do it.”

  “No way, man! I’m not shifting,” said Alf. “You shift and people say, ‘Oh cool! A grizzly bear!’ I shift and they run screaming.”

  “Look, Ellie’s gonna stay in the ditch and we’ll never make it to the Lone Pine in time if you don’t shift and help me move it. Even as a grizzly bear, I can’t move the car all by myself,” said Ron.

  “I’m not taking my clothes off in the middle of the highway!” said Alf.

  “May I remind you that if you shift wearing your Levis, they’ll be torn to shreds and you’ll arrive at the Lone Pine pants-free?” said Ron. “Drop them drawers and shift like a man!”

  “Uh uh,” said Alf. “What if somebody sees us?”

  Ron was standing naked, leaning on the hood of the Lotus. “It’s almost 11:00 at night and no one’s around. And besides, it’s not healthy to keep your inner beast inside, so drop ‘em!”

  Ron finished undressing and shifted into his grizzly bear form.

  “Aw, shit!” said Alf. He shed his clothes, a
nd with a grunt, shifted. It had been a long time since Alf’s last shift, and he had to admit that it felt good.

  “Come on,” said Ron in his bear voice. “Let’s get to work.”

  The two of them struggled to get Ellie the Lotus back onto the shoulder. Ron was on the back end of the car. Alf, because he was much bigger, handled the front of the car, where the engine was. Alf looked around nervously, hoping no one would see him. They had just gotten Ellie back on the side of the road when Ron noticed a pickup truck heading their way.

  “Alf!” said Ron. “SHIFT BACK NOW!”

  Alf and Ron quickly shifted back into human form just as the truck passed. Its tires squealed as it came to a halt, leaving twin streaks of rubber on the highway. The car slammed into reverse and stopped next to the Lotus. Two young women stared bug-eyed from the truck’s cab. Alf opened the passenger door and crouched behind the car while Ron leaned nonchalantly, buck naked against the hood. He tried looking his rock-star best.

  “Get down, you idiot!” said Alf. “They’ll recognize you!”

  “You boys need some help?” said a blonde woman from the passenger’s side.

  She was ogling Ron’s impressive frame—his broad shoulders, well-defined pecs and washboard abs. The woman lowered her gaze and raised her eyebrows.

  “Nah,” said Ron. “We’re good.”

  The driver was eying Alf. “Hey you! Come out from behind the car!”

  Alf stood up. He covered his penis with the pink ukulele.

  “Yes...?” said Alf.

  “Aren’t you Alf Walters?” said the driver. “You know…the guitar player?”

  “Oh Jesus!” said Ron. “Not again!”

  Alf nodded cautiously.

  “You’re awesome!” said the woman. “I’ve learned all of your licks!”

  4

  Barbara awoke shortly before the alarm went off. Today was Jake and Julia’s wedding. Even though Barbara was happy for them, today was going to be tough on her. That and she was a bit hung over from the rehearsal dinner.

  She threw back the covers and sat on the edge of the bed. Barbara’s inner cat purred as she stretched herself out.

  “Come on,” said her inner cat. “Let’s go for a run.”

  “Once a cat, always a cat,” said Barbara. “Maybe we’ll take a run tonight after the wedding. It’s going to take awhile to get ready.”

  She put on her favorite pink bunny slippers and walked toward the bathroom.

  “Ugh!” said Barbara. Her thick, blonde hair was tangled.

  She turned herself sideways and looked in the mirror.

  “Not bad, I guess,” said Barbara. “But I’ve got a lot to do to get ready.”

  After a nice, hot shower and some breakfast, Barbara bundled herself in a thick terrycloth robe and sat on her porch nursing a cup of coffee. Most Saturdays, Barbara would be in her office working by 7:00, but today she decided to give herself a nice leisurely morning. The wedding wasn’t until 3:00, so she had some time.

  “God, I love it here,” Barbara said to herself. The pines were rustling in a chilled, gentle breeze as the warm and constant sun of late spring in Alaska kissed her face.

  “Ronnie would love it here, too,” said Barbara’s inner cat. “I miss my bear.”

  Barbara thought for a minute. “What I don’t miss is having our needs shoved to the side.”

  “It’s Pete!” Barbara’s cat hissed. “He made our Ronnie go away. I blame it all on Pete!”

  “Pete, definitely,” said Barbara. “But Ron went along with it. I didn’t mind Ron being a rock star, but he was always gone.”

  “Pete did everything he could to keep him away from us,” said her cat. “I hate Pete!”

  “I’m not a fan of his either,” said Barbara.

  Barbara finished her coffee, got dressed in causal clothes—it was Saturday, after all and she didn’t need her uniform—and went next door to her office. One of the first things Barbara had done as Park Superintendent was to move the official High Mountain National Park offices and her official residence to the Lone Pine Lodge. She told the Department of Interior that it was a cost saving move, and it was. But Barbara knew that if she was going to help other shifters in any real way, she would need to be at the Lone Pine.

  As she unlocked the door, the phone rang. That had to be Ryan. No one else was psychic enough to know the exact moment when Barbara arrived at the office. She picked up the phone.

  “Thank you for calling the High Mountain National Park offices, this is Barbara.”

  “Why did you go through all of that when you knew it was me?” asked Ryan.

  “Not all of us are as psychic as you, Ryan,” said Barbara. “How are you this morning?”

  “Could be better,” said Ryan.

  “Why? What’s up?”

  “I just got off the phone with my inside contact at Burwell Property Management,” said Ryan. “The Board of Directors voted last night to officially block the repairs to the Lone Pine.”

  Barbara’s heart sank. “So that’s it then. What’s the time frame? How long do we have?”

  “Well, the Lone Pine still has 52 years left on its 99-year lease,” said Ryan. “So Burwell can’t do anything about that. But what they can do is just let it decay and rot until the building is no longer habitable.”

  “How long would that be?” asked Barbara.

  “For most buildings as old as the Lone Pine,” said Ryan. “I would say three to five years. But as harsh as our winters are here, I’d give it a year or maybe two at the most.”

  Barbara was quiet.

  “Can the money come from anywhere, or does it have to come from Burwell?” said Barbara.

  “The agreement with Burwell gives us a free hand,” said Ryan. “The bottom line is that it doesn’t matter where the money comes from, just so long as we can get it.”

  “Thanks, Ryan,” said Barbara. “Let me see what I can do about the money situation.”

  “I don’t know if there’s anything you can do,” said Ryan.

  “We’ll figure this out,” said Barbara.

  “I hope we can,” said Ryan. “See you at the wedding.”

  Barbara hung up the phone. She felt a heaviness, and her heart was pounding.

  After Ron crashed Ellie the Lotus, Alf insisted that they stop and get a proper night’s sleep. They pushed through to Grinsberg Springs, a sleepy little spot off Alaska Route 2 with a single motel, gas station, and diner, just before the cutoff to High Mountain National Park. The motel was a nice, clean place, run by a well-known family of black bear shifters—modest, but very comfortable. Although most people flew in to High Mountain, a few intrepid souls insisted on driving the treacherous highway. Grinsberg Springs was a mandatory refueling stop.

  At 7:00 the next morning, Ron pounded on Alf’s door.

  “C’mon, Alf!” said Ron. “Wakey, wakey!”

  There was an annoyed groan on the other side of the door.

  “I’m coming,” said Alf. “I’m coming.”

  “Gotta get my Wildcat back!” said Ron.

  Alf opened the door. He stared bleary-eyed at Ron.

  “You’re crazy,” said Alf.

  “I brought doughnuts,” said Ron, holding up a pink box.

  Alf eyed him suspiciously. “You got crullers?”

  “I got crullers,” said Ron. “Crullers, maple bars, buttermilk, chocolate, glazed and jelly doughnuts.”

  “You got coffee?” asked Alf.

  “I got coffee,” said Ron.

  “Come on in,” said Alf. “All I need to do is pack up. I took a shower last night.”

  Ron put the coffee and doughnuts on the table. Alf grabbed a cruller.

  “Tell me something,” said Alf. “Is this what finding your mate does to you? Makes you totally nuts?”

  “Uh huh,” said Ron, his mouth rimmed with chocolate frosting. “You’ll know what I mean when you find yours.”

  “Yeah,” said Alf. “Not gonna happen. I’m 38 years
old, and I’ve been around the world. We’ve played hundreds of shows for thousands of people. No mate. Just through the law of averages, I should have run into her by now.”

  “You haven’t run into her yet,” said Ron. “Everybody’s got a fated mate. I’ve got Barbara. Jake’s got Julia. It’ll happen to you. Besides, the Lone Pine’s famous for bringing mates together.”

  “Like I said—not gonna happen,” said Alf.

  Ron and Alf finished their coffee and doughnuts, paid the bill and loaded up Ellie. Ron cringed as he took stock of the damage to the car. It had been a blast to drive, but clearly was the wrong choice of car.

  “You think she’ll make it?” asked Alf.

  “She’s got to,” said Ron.

  “You know the road up to the Lone Pine is supposed to be pretty rough,” said Alf. “We’ve got to be careful on those corners. Ellie’s pulling pretty bad to the right.”

  “Well one way or the other, we’re gonna have to drive pretty fast if we’re gonna make it for Jake’s wedding,” said Ron.

  5

  The Grand Ballroom was filled with wildflowers that Jessica, the Lone Pine’s shuttle driver and resident coyote shifter, had picked that morning. They looked amazing. The heady fragrance filled the room with joy and light. Barbara was surprised to see that the Grand Ballroom’s giant stained glass window had been cleaned and revealed, adding specks of color to the whole scene.

  Barbara let out a low whistle. The scenes in the stained glass had been covered for as long as she had been at the Lone Pine, and now she knew why.

  The window depicted scenes of shifters out in the open. People shifting into animals and back, and people were making love. Even Emilia made a shadowy appearance in a corner that depicted the Lone Pine Lodge. No wonder the Shifter Council was so against the place.

  Barbara sincerely hoped that no spies from the Council were in attendance. Ryan had told Sally, the Lone Pine’s Front Desk Clerk, to let him know immediately if she saw anything suspicious. The Shifter Council did not approve of shifters marrying non-shifters. That was certainly the case with Jake and Julia. Jake was a grizzly bear shifter. Julia was not a shifter at all.

 

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