Bear Pause (BBW / Bear Shifter Romance): A Billionaire Oil Bearons Romance (Bear Fursuits Book 6)

by Isadora Montrose

  “Nothing so bad it can’t be mended.” Steve attempted to reassure Prescott.

  “I don’t see how we can fix this one,” Lance retorted. His fists were clenched.

  “What’s gone wrong?” Laura asked.

  “Someone seeded the training paddock with these,” Lance opened his gloved hand where two vicious, pronged devices were resting. “Carlos stepped on one of these. It went right through his boot, and into the sole of his foot. I sent him into Success with Darrell to see a doctor. He didn’t want to go, but you can’t be too careful. And I called the police.”

  Steve picked up one of the caltrops between a cautious thumb and forefinger. Laura looked around his shoulder. “What is it?” she asked.

  “Caltrop. Tactical weapon,” he answered. “This one looks like it might be a special order.”

  “I don’t understand,” Laura said.

  “Caltrops have been around for centuries. Since the Middle Ages. They’re simple and effective. Third Marine Corps uses them as its symbol.” Steve’s voice was abstracted.

  “I don’t understand?” Laura said.

  “It just four prongs arranged in a pyramid. No matter how they’re tossed, they land business end up. They can take out tires, horses, people. Modern armies use them, cops deploy them to stop cars.” Steve touched one of the spikes respectfully. “This would pierce a boot sole like a knife through butter.”

  “Or do real damage to a horse’s hoof,” Laura breathed.

  “They’ve been raked into the soil in the training rings,” Lance told them. “I was on duty last night, Boss. And I swear to God, I didn’t see anything or anybody.”

  “I’m sure you didn’t,” Laura said. She touched the stable hand on one shoulder. “Did you call Rosa Diego?”

  Lance smacked his forehead. “I clean forgot, Miss Laura.”

  Laura whipped out her cell phone and spoke quietly into it. “He’s at the Success clinic, Rosa,” she said. “Why don’t you give them a call, and see if they’re going to release him?” She rattled off the number from her cell phone. “Don’t be silly, I’m sure he’ll need to you. And I don’t expect him back at work unless the doctor says so.”

  “Deputy Brown said we should wait till he got here before we started to clean up those things,” Lance said.

  “I want to take a look,” said Laura.

  “Not on your life,” Steve slid into his command voice. “I don’t want you – or anyone – going over there, Laura, not in ordinary boots. Those things are dangerous. I don’t want you on the injured list as well.”

  He thought she was going to balk at his order. But she nodded. “I want to see it for myself,” she said.

  “And you will. Only not before we get some heavy boards to stand on. These things are designed to wound. And if they’ve been in contact with horse manure, they’re blood poisoning and tetanus waiting to happen.”

  “Who the hell would’ve done such a thing?” Lance asked what they were all wondering.

  The Sheriff’s deputies brought metal detectors with them. And rubber boots that they said had steel soles. They took photographs of the training rings from several angles. They raked the yard, collected what they could, and put them into evidence bags. Then they got out the metal detectors which turned up a couple dozen more of the nasty little devices which had been scattered over the three training enclosures.

  “I want to look at your video,” Deputy Brown told them when they all agreed that the last of the devices had been found.

  “We’ll look at it together,” Steve said.

  “I see you still have the same shitty equipment. I thought you guys were going to invest in some decent cameras.” Brown’s voice was peevish.

  “We did. But I didn’t see any reason to advertise it. I left the old cameras up and the old video feed is still running in the tack room. You can look at it. But I’m sure buddy avoided those – just like last time. We’ll go into Miss Laura’s office, and take a look at what the new cameras show us.”

  What the new CCTV showed, was Lance Prescott going into Sweetie-Pie’s stall, and assisting her with her labor. At about the same time, Cory Saunders carefully pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up and turned his face away from the old camera outside of the central stable block.

  Saunders was holding a cardboard box and wearing heavy leather gloves. He went into the empty training rings, carrying his box and a rake. He sprinkled the little caltrops around, raked them into the soil to disguise them. He was done in six minutes and forty-three seconds.

  It was obvious to them all, that he was convinced he had outsmarted the cameras. As soon as he was done, he walked around to the barn, still keeping his face averted from the old cameras. He went behind the barn and after a few seconds Camera Twelve showed a truck driving away.

  “You know who that guy is?” Brown asked.

  “Cory Saunders,” Steve said. “Carlos sacked him two days ago.”

  “We’ll pick that son of a bitch up before he’s much older,” Deputy Brown said. “Think you can pick up that tag number?”

  “You bet,” said Steve. His fingers flew over his keyboard and he began to go through Camera Twelve’s footage, frame by frame. He froze it when he had a clean shot of Cory’s rear license plate. Brown wrote it down.

  “Just make sure you find out who is working for,” Laura said.

  Brown scratched his head. “We can ask him, Miss Laura. But he may not answer us. Or he may lie. We’ll probably have to get warrants for his bank and cell phone records if we want to know the truth, and that will take a good few days.”

  “What I want to know is where he got those things?” Laura said.

  “Online,” Brown and Steve said together.

  “Is that legal?” Laura demanded.

  Brown shrugged. “Depends where he ordered them from. They’re not illegal in Colorado – but deploying them to injure people and livestock like this sure is. We’ll get him for that.”

  “I’ll look forward to hearing you have Saunders in custody,” Laura’s voice was grim. Steve put an arm around her shoulders and squeezed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Steve pulled up to the Belingtons’ huge split-level house. He stalked around to the back, and opened the gate to the pool enclosure. Piper was sitting under an umbrella, avoiding the afternoon sun. He hauled out a chair from her table, turned it around and sat down with his arms folded on the top rail before he spoke.

  “I thought I’d stop by,” he said cordially. “I wanted you to be the first to hear our good news.” He laid his hands flat on the table top so that they framed Piper’s cup and saucer.

  “I don’t know what you’re doing here,” Piper sneered. “This is private property. Get lost!”

  “I came to tell you that Laura and I were married yesterday.” Steve stood up again. He pushed the chair back under the table, nodded once, and left.

  Her incoherent imprecations followed him to the truck.

  * * *

  Three days later, Sheriff Ramirez showed up at the stud to update Laura on the progress of their investigation. Laura summoned Steve and Carlos in to listen to the Sheriff’s report. They sat around the chipped Formica table in the office building and drank Rhonda’s coffee.

  “We’ve arrested Saunders. He had holed up at a friend’s place. We brought him in. Unfortunately, he lawyered up before we could question him properly,” Ramirez reported.

  Laura made a disappointed noise.

  Ramirez smiled ferally. “That was his first mistake, Ms. Bascom. Feller that has no record, shouldn’t have a fancy criminal lawyer on speed dial.”

  “Not an offence to have a lawyer,” Steve pointed out. “Not in America.”

  “No. But it sure made us wonder,” Ramirez said. “We put our heads together, pooled what we knew about Alonzo Bruckner that Saunders hired. Then we called some of the other Sheriff’s Departments in this area. Turns out Bruckner has a nice roster of clients that have been indicted for among other
things, cattle rustling.”

  “Oh.” Carlos smiled for the first time in three days.

  “Mind you, Bruckner got them off – on technicalities,” Ramirez continued. “But his client list suggested possible confederates to look at with regards to Saunders. Right now, I’ve got some good men following up on those leads. The good news is that the judge gave us warrants for Saunders’ domicile, his bank and phone records, and his computer. The bad news is that he granted bail.”

  “We’re going through his email. We’ll get his bank accounts tomorrow or the next day. We’ve already seen some stuff he’s been posting on Facebook.” Sheriff Ramirez shook his head. “Time was a feller went bad, he knew to keep a secret. But nowadays, criminals brag about their crimes right on the Internet.”

  Steve snorted. He didn’t know what Ramirez was complaining about. It just made catching crooks easier.

  Ramirez stood up and put his hat back on his head. “I don’t think there’s any way that we can charge Saunders for the damage to the barn roof. But now that he is under bond, things should settle down around here.”

  Steve and Laura stood together outside the office building as Sheriff Ramirez drove away in his black and white SUV. “I sure hope I can look forward to a quiet life,” Steve whispered into Laura’s hair. “We have a wedding to plan.”

  She laughed. “We’re already married,” she said.

  * * *

  Steve was sitting on the little bench at the end of their bed, pulling off his boots. It had been a long hard day, and she knew he was looking forward to a shower and a cold beer. Since Saunders had been caught, and things were back to normal at the stud, if not on the ranch, she was less worried.

  She and Steve had fallen into the habit of cleaning up together after work. But maybe this evening, they could do something different. Laura had decided that the time had come for her to be a shade more adventurous.

  She had been letting Steve take the lead, and while that had been a lot of fun, and they had had a lot of good times together, it seemed she’d been letting him do all the work. That didn’t seem like the equal partnership she thought a good marriage should be. But did they have a good marriage? And would Steve like her being aggressive?

  Steve glanced up and smiled when she stood in front of him. He ran a hand over her hip and squeezed lightly. She began to undo the snaps of her short-sleeved shirt one at a time. He did a double take, took his hand away and leaned back on his palms. His mouth fell open.

  “Now, what are you doing, my darlin’?”

  “I’m taking off my clothes.”

  “So you are. Would you like me to give you a hand?”

  “I can manage,” she said. Steve’s avid face gave her confidence. He didn’t look a bit amused by her impromptu striptease. She slid the shirt down her arms and twirled it twice before throwing it behind her.

  “Woo doggies,” he whistled.

  Laura undid her belt buckle. She pulled her belt out and tossed it after the shirt. She unsnapped her jeans and gave her hips a little shimmy. Steve mimed a body blow. Emboldened, Laura unzipped her jeans and pulled them down a couple of inches.

  “Are you sure I can’t help?” He leered. “I have some experience with those jeans.” He paused a bit and winked at her. “And those hips.”

  Laura answered him by turning around and bending over. She tugged her jeans down and stepped out of them. She waggled her butt at him. Big hands gripped her hips and pulled her back hard against a rock hard zipper.

  “Are you taking charge again?” she asked him.

  “I’m taking something, sweetheart. Might be advantage. You got a license for that ass?”

  “You got a license for that cattle prod?”

  “I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours.” She was giggling so hard, that even though she put both palms on her knees, it was only Steve’s strong hands that kept her from toppling over.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m no good at this.”

  Steve sat down on the little bench again. She was naked except for her socks, bra and panties. So not sexy. He turned her sideways and nibbled on her neck. That always made her hot. Of course, being in the same room as Steve made her hot.

  “I don’t know what it is you think you’re no good at,” he said. “But I was enjoying your striptease. And I’m enjoying this. Making love doesn’t have to be deadly earnest, Laura darlin’, sometimes love is funny. Doesn’t mean the feelings aren’t serious. What exactly did you have in mind before you started laughing?”

  Laura put her mouth to his ear, and now it was Steve’s turn to go brick red and start laughing so hard he nearly fell over. “I’ve created a monster,” he said with masculine satisfaction.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  “I’ll pick you up at lunchtime,” Steve bent over and kissed Laura’s cheek. “We’ll have that picnic. You catch up on your sleep. Promise?”

  “All right.” She rolled over.

  He turned at the door, but she was out like the proverbial light. Pregnant, he thought smugly. He was glad he had persuaded her to take the afternoon off. He knew that even though they were married, he still had some courting to do. And now that, as the police had promised, things had settled down, he thought he and Laura were entitled to an afternoon of freedom.

  Steve went out to the barn to give a hand with the morning turnout. He returned at noon on his bike and picked up a cooler from Rosa.

  “Where are we going?” Laura asked as she swung aboard his motorcycle and buckled her red helmet on.

  “You tell me,” he said. “This is your spread. I’ve only seen the bits of it that are visible from the road.”

  “Do you want to go north? Towards the foothills?” She gestured to the misty blue lumps on the horizon.

  “Sure.” He kicked the chopper into life and braced himself for the thrill when she slid her arms around his waist and held on. The electric jolt was as bad as he had feared. And twice as addictive. He would have thought that sharing his wife’s bed would have cooled him off. Instead, he was more attuned to Laura every day.

  The May sun was hot, but a cool breeze blew out of the mountains. The forecast called for snow, and he could believe it, even this late in the spring. Colorado weather was nothing if not changeable.

  When Laura took a hand off his waist and pointed, he turned onto a narrow road that wasn’t much more than a gravel track. It was as die-straight as most of the other roads through the Double B, but on either side taut barbed wire fences framed green pastureland. In places the grass was almost waist high.

  The lush, bright green was dotted with wildflowers. The undulating prairie was broken here and there by outcrops of rock and the occasional tree still trying to come into leaf. Steve relaxed and enjoyed the breeze, the ride, and the feel of his very own mate resting against his spine.

  He kept his eyes open for the perfect spot. He had asked Rosa to pack him a picnic and a blanket to go with it. He spotted the glint of water in the distance. He knew that the ranch was laced with streams that filled the stock ponds and made the Double B the lush pastureland it was. But he couldn’t tell if what lay ahead was a muddy cow pond or a picturesque running brook. Well, sometimes a fellow had to take a gamble.

  Steve aimed for a spot where a little cluster of trees rose above the waving grass. He didn’t see a single cow, he hoped this meant there were no cow patties in the pasture. The road passed over a culvert, through which a rippling brook ran. He slowed down a bit, and watched for a gap in the fence. But although there was a road, it didn’t seem as though the Bascoms had built many gates in their fence.

  But eventually there was a barbed wire gap. Steve had gone past it, before it registered. He had to turn and come back. Laura clutched his waist tightly as he made the unexpected pivot. She was laughing. He could feel her chuckles vibrating through his spine. He braked by the gap.

  “Why are we stopping?” Laura asked.

  “I thought this would be a good place for a picnic,�
� Steve suggested.

  Laura seemed to be making up her mind. She looked at the gate. She looked at Steve, and at the waist high grass. She looked at the bushes growing on the bank of the creek.

  Amusement curved her lips. “I guess we could go over by the water. But the grass is very high on this side of the creek, and we wouldn’t like sitting on it. We should go back and picnic on the other side where the stream has carved out a bare patch.”

  “Okay,” Steve was agreeable.

  He turned the Harley and they went back over the culvert until he found another gate. Laura swung lithely off the bike. She opened the gate wide and held it open while he drove through. She latched it again before remounting.

  Once they were in the middle of the grass, Steve was surprised at how difficult it was to see any distance. The tall blades came up almost to the windscreen. Fortunately, he could hear the brook babbling across the stones. He followed the downslope towards the sound of the brook.

  Suddenly his motorcycle broke through the grass to the bare edge of the bank, and he had to steady his Harley to prevent it from plunging into the water. It looked as though the spring melt had scoured the edge of the stream and left a pebbly beach about a hundred yards long. While on the other side, the bank was four or five feet higher.

  “Next spring, we’ll have a stock pond here,” Laura said happily.

  She helped him spread out the blanket beside the water. The stones were warm from the sun, but the ground was not the soft spring grass that he had imagined. Even with a blanket, making love on this would bruise them both. He would just have to adapt.

  He pulled the little cooler out of his carrier. He and Laura set out the sandwiches and fried chicken that Rosa had made for them. The cook had included a couple of bottles of lemonade and one of water, so they had something to drink.

  Laura was a good sport about the hard ground, and his misapprehension about the open prairie.

  “I hadn’t realized how tall the grass got out here. I guess closer to the house and the stables, it’s all eaten low,” he said as they were finishing up with the brownies Rosa had packed for dessert.