Black Bear Down: BBW Bear Shifter Paranormal Romance (Return To Bear Bluff Book 3)

by Harmony Raines

  He looked out of the window, at the blue sky. A stray cloud floated past, while the sun shone as it always had. His life had changed, while the world moved on the same.

  Jordan closed his eyes, and tried to remember what it was like to have the wind on his face, to feel the sun warm on his skin, to hold a shovel in his hand and swing it with his powerful muscles. But all he could see were his dead friends, and the warmth of the sun turned to the blazing heat of the burning helicopter in which they perished.

  Would he ever find joy again? Would he ever be able to feel again? He didn’t mean his legs; Skyla was right, he could live without those. But his bear, could he live with that part of him gone, severed in one awful moment?

  “Today is the first day of the rest of your life. And if you don’t like it, that’s OK, because when you wake up, tomorrow is the first day of the rest of your life. One thing I can promise you is that if you face it head on, every day will get better.” She came and leaned over the bed, capturing his eyes with hers and smiling, her lips curling up, her eyes sparkling. “I promise you, Jordan, I will face each of those new beginnings with you, until you tell me you don’t need me anymore. Will you let me?”

  She didn’t know what she asked of him. She didn’t know he couldn’t refuse his mate.

  Chapter Three – Skyla

  “I’ll try.” That was the best she was going to get for now, and that was good enough.

  “Great. Let’s get going, then.” She placed a small duffel bag down on the bed and opened it up. “Ben gave me your approximate size and measurements. I hope these fit.” She took out the clothes and laid them on the bed. “They look good.”

  “What are they for?” he asked suspiciously.

  “To wear.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s what you usually do with clothes.” His mouth twitched at one corner, but he didn’t smile. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to my sense of humor.”

  “You’re not going to be around me long enough for that to happen,” he said.

  “Is that a challenge? I like a challenge.” She took out some jeans and a blue T-shirt, laying them on the bed. “OK. Let’s get you dressed.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “You are not dressing me like a doll.”

  “A doll would be far less trouble,” she said smiling, seeing how uneasy he was. “Listen, I’m a big girl, I’ve done this so many times, I don’t even bother looking.”

  “You are not dressing me.” His face was set.

  “Have the other nurses dressed you, washed you?” she asked, sure the answer would be yes.

  “Of course,” he admitted.

  “So it’s just me you don’t like.” A lump threatened to make her voice croak, but she swallowed it back down. It was the first time someone had taken such an instant dislike to her. “Do you want me to fetch one of the other nurses?”

  He studied her, a myriad of emotions crossing his face. She tried to make them out, but mostly she just saw sorrow. “No. I can do it myself.”

  She let out a breath; he wasn’t sending her away. That was a positive step. Still confused, she took the clothes, setting them down on the chair by the side of the bed. “Are you sure you can do this?”

  “Positive.” He shifted his weight, using his strong arms to move his body. The determination on his face was intense, and she caught a glimpse of who this man used to be, and who he could be again, if only he would give himself a chance.

  “Then I will leave you to it.” She moved away from the bed, and pulled the curtains around so he could have the privacy he wanted. “Call me if you need me.”

  Her last glimpse of his face as the curtains drew together was a look of hunger, and the lump in her throat was from a different emotion. He wanted her, she knew he did, and the faint hope that they were mates blossomed bigger inside her. However, she would never act on it, never mention it, they had a professional relationship, and that had to be the way things stayed until he said otherwise.

  Walking towards the door, before turning and pacing back towards the bed, she listened carefully, hearing him groan. Skyla could picture Jordan trying to dress himself, struggling with a body that didn’t cooperate in the same way it used to. It was tough, but she resisted the urge to rush in there and help him.

  Skyla waited, hearing movement, several grunts as if he was straining, followed by him saying, “You can come in now.”

  She let out her pent-up breath, pulled the curtains open, and looked at the man resting on the bed in front of her. “Those clothes fit really well.” The T-shirt pulled across his upper body, emphasizing his muscles, which had been hidden under the hospital gown and blankets.

  “What now?” he asked.

  “We get you into the wheelchair and then we go,” she said.

  “Where?” he asked, watching her intently as she folded his gown, and generally made sure everything was left tidy.

  “I’ve arranged for us to go and visit your new house. It’s ready, so they want to hand the keys over.” She looked at her watch. “We need to hurry if we aren’t going to be late.”

  “I’m not worried if we are.”

  “You should be. The house is wonderful, and you can’t stay here forever, they need the bed.”

  “Whatever you say,” he sighed.

  Skyla walked over to the hospital wheelchair in the corner of the room. “Can you get into this on your own too?” she asked. Jordan was an independent guy, and she would have to factor that in to everything they did. It was good he wanted that independence, but at the same time, he was going to have to learn that she was there to help him and make life easier. At least until his body adjusted to this new life.

  “Yes. I’ve managed it plenty of times, just like I manage the bathroom.” His voice was adamant, and she understood his pride meant he wasn’t going to stand her helping in that department.

  “That is good to know. And it’s good that you already have such a sense of independence. My job is to nurture that and to help you do your exercises. The house has a gym, which should be all set up for you in the next few days.”

  “As long as you don’t expect me to do those stupid exercises where they just reinforce the fact my legs don’t work,” he said.

  “The exercises are for you to try to stimulate your muscles into working again.”

  “No point, I can’t feel them, there’s too much damage.” Jordan heaved himself up and over to the wheelchair, which she had set by the side of him, with the brake on.

  “You know what your report says, right?” she asked.

  “If we are going to have any kind of civil relationship, you can drop that psycho mumbo-jumbo now. I know the scans show there is no damage, but I think the fact I have not been able to feel anything from the waist downwards for the last two months means they are wrong.”

  “I’m not arguing with you, Jordan. I simply wanted to make sure they have made you aware of it.”

  “Aware of it, yes. Until I came back to Bear Bluff, the doctors tried everything to get me to walk again, not exactly calling me a liar, but the insinuation was there all the same. Being told something is in your head, when it is so obviously not, is unsettling. Do they think I want to be like this?” he asked her, anger simmering just under the surface.

  “No. I don’t think they believe that. But our brains do not always work as we expect them to. They short-circuit.”

  “Short circuit,” he repeated, as she adjusted the foot rest for him. “I think I blew more than a fuse. You read the report. So, you tell me why I’m here while everyone else died?”

  “Do you blame yourself?” she asked, grabbing her purse, and the duffel bag, and heading for the door. Turning around, she backed out of it, and then headed for the elevator, sure she saw Beth disappearing around the corner as they approached. The nurse had probably been waiting to see if Skyla might need assistance, maybe uncertain as to whether Jordan would refuse to leave his bed.

  She was probably right to make herself scarce as t
hey left the room. Skyla didn’t want Jordan to have any excuse not to go and visit his new house. Pressing the button, she waited for the elevator, the conversation having stalled after her last question.

  However, when they were in the elevator, and the doors had slid shut in front of them, he spoke. “Wouldn’t you?” he asked. “They were there, burning in front of me. If I had been able to get up, I could have tried to drag them away. Instead, I was thrown clear and could only watch them die.”

  “That is not your fault,” she said.

  “Why isn’t it?” he asked vehemently. “One minute you are saying it’s all in my head, and there is no reason I can’t walk. The next you tell me it’s not my fault I couldn’t get up off the ground and save them.”

  “The impact of the crash temporarily bruised your spine. There was swelling; you couldn’t walk then. But that does not mean you cannot walk now, the swelling has gone.” She came around to crouch down in front of him, taking his hand and looking into his face. “If it was one of your friends, one of the men you served with, who was here in this wheelchair, what would you say to them? Would you tell them to get on with their lives, or would you expect them to give up?”

  He looked at her, their eyes locked, and then his gaze dropped to her lips, and she couldn’t help it, her tongue slipped out to moisten them, wanting the kiss his expression promised. But this was not the time for kisses; it was the time for taking back control.

  “Please, Jordan. Let me help you. It’s what I do, and I’m good at it.”

  “OK.” Then the doors behind her pinged open and they were thrust into the busy world of the hospital ground floor.

  “Great, let’s go check this house of yours out. It’s very cool,” she said, and pushed the wheelchair forward.

  He was heavy in the wheelchair, but once she got some momentum, she could walk at a normal pace. She watched him looking around, breathing in the fresh air, and turning his head to look at the mountains all around them.

  “I can see why you moved back here,” she said. “It’s beautiful.”

  He nodded. “It is, I’d forgotten. But all I’ll be able to do is look. The mountains are not for a man who can’t walk, can’t even crawl.”

  “What about your other side?” she asked, her voice low as she explored the subject of his inability to shift.

  “I don’t have another side.” He turned his head away from the mountains and looked ahead of them. “That’s gone too.”

  His words hit her hard, and made sense of his moods. When he told her he had lost everything, he really did mean it. And in that moment, she wanted to help him get it all back. Or at least as much as she possibly could.

  A silent promise swirled through her brain. Jordan would have a fulfilling life, even if it wasn’t the one he had planned.

  Chapter Four – Jordan

  “Why are you handing me the keys?” he asked, as she stopped the wheelchair in front of a brand-new Volkswagen. “I can’t drive, remember?”

  “That is what you think,” she said. “This is a specially adapted car. If you can get yourself dressed on your own, you can definitely drive this, no problem.”

  “I can’t use my legs.”

  “Open the door, and see how it’s adapted. I drove it here, and I can tell you there is no need to use your legs. You have hand controls. A smart man like you should have the hang of it in five minutes.”

  He pressed the button on the key to unlock the car; she opened the door, and he was surprised when the controls were revealed. He shouldn’t have been, his job had always been to find answers to problems, work-arounds to help the people whose homes had been ravaged by war and natural disasters to get themselves back on their feet. Even the poorest, simplest of villages were able to find ways of adapting to their new circumstances with ingenuity if their survival depended on it.

  “Thank you,” he said simply, trying to hide his emotion. He felt like blubbing like a schoolboy.

  “Don’t thank me—this, like me, is funded, because of the accident. So, you see, the Army doesn’t think you are faking it.” She grinned. “Well, come on then, get yourself inside.”

  She stood back out of his way, and he took control of his life for the first time since the accident, wheeling his chair close to the car, assessing the hand holds and then grabbing them and hoisting himself up so he sat sideways on the driver’s side of the car.

  “What about the chair?” he asked.

  “I’ll stow that in the trunk for you. Usually you’ll be able to use the ramp, but that’s for when you get your motorized wheelchair, which is due to be delivered in a couple of days. There was a mix-up in the delivery schedule.”

  “And there was me thinking you were perfect,” he joked. He joked. She made him feel normal: it wasn’t just the car, or getting outside, it was her. Everything about her. She was perfect, for him, but he wasn’t perfect for her, no matter what the feelings inside of him said.

  “It was the chair company’s mix-up, not mine,” she said, holding on to the car door for him. “Go on, show me how clever you are.” Her eyes teased him, and a warmth spread through him, touching places that had been cold and dormant since the accident. Was it possible she could bring him back to life?

  He couldn’t hold on to that hope, he couldn’t do that to himself again. The fall from hope was too hard, as he’d already learned.

  The day the doctors told him the only permanent injury he had was the scar on his face, he had been so relieved. The horror of what happened still haunted him every night, but he believed that he could move on, could rebuild his life, and swore to make a difference to the world, just as he used to with his comrades in the Army.

  Then, as one day melted into another, and the doctors continually asked him if there was any feeling, anything, when they pushed pins into his legs as if he was a pincushion, he began to realize he had been cursed. That by not getting himself off the ground and trying to save his mates, he deserved to lose the use of his legs. That message was compounded by those long lonely nights, when he tried to call his bear to him, and there was only emptiness. He slowly understood that the reason he had been deserted by the other part of him, was because he had failed everyone in their time of need.

  “Jordan.” Her hand touched his shoulder, making him jump. “It’s OK.”

  He frowned, looking around him, taking a moment to remember where he was. “Sorry. I drifted off.”

  “I could see. Is there anything you need to talk about?” she asked with her soft warm voice, that offered him a new life, a new hope.

  He shook his head. “No, there’s no use, I’ve talked about it a thousand times, and still I’m stuck in a wheelchair.”

  “Maybe when we’ve moved in to your house? Maybe when you trust me, you can tell me about it all.”

  “There’s nothing to tell. We crashed, I’m a cripple.”

  “There’s always more to tell,” she said, and then stood up straight, her voice lifting. “Dylan is waiting to hand over the keys, and we are already late.” She pulled out her phone. “Let me tell him we’re on our way.”

  She stood back while he lifted his legs one at a time into the car. He listened while she spoke briefly on the phone, and then she collapsed the wheelchair and went around to open the rear door and slid it in. As she worked, he sat and studied the controls, nodding at how clever they were. This would be easy; he could control everything from the levers next to the steering wheel.

  “Want a lesson?” she asked, when she slid in next to him.

  “I think I have it,” he said, switching on the ignition and listening to the smooth engine as it came to life. “I used to drive a pickup before…” He cleared his throat, he still struggled to think of the before. His life had begun that day the helicopter crashed. As if he was born from the flames.

  “This is a little different to a pickup, but it will get you everywhere you want to go.”

  “Except onto the mountain,” he said wistfully and put the car
in drive.

  “Does it mean that much to you?” she asked. “Going on to the mountain?”

  He pushed a lever and they moved forward out of the parking space. “It was where I spent so many happy days as a child.”

  “Then we’ll get you up there again.”

  “How?” he asked, pressing another lever to ensure he knew how to stop.

  “I’ll find a way, or I’ll drag you on a sled. My job is to make you happy, Jordan. To let you know life goes on.”

  “Well,” he said, as he accelerated, “I think you’ve already accomplished that.”

  “Typical man, give him a car and he’s happy.”

  “You’ve already given me much more than that, Skyla. So much more.”

  Chapter Five – Skyla

  She wasn’t sure what he meant and knew she couldn’t allow herself to read too much meaning into his words. Skyla was well aware that one of the reasons she took this job was so that she could mingle with bears, could maybe brush up against one who was her mate. The looks Jordan gave her made her believe she had found that man. But then those looks would vanish just as quickly and he would become cold and distant.

  Her training told her this was what she should expect from a man so traumatized by the accident. Her heart told her she wanted more from this man.

  “Where exactly is this house of mine?” he asked, as she told him to turn left out of the parking lot.

  “It nestles under the Bluff. I have the address.” She took a piece of paper out of her purse and entered it into the GPS. “I still don’t know my way around the area; I only arrived last night.”

  “Have you seen the house?” he asked.

  “No. Dylan sent me photos on a regular basis. He’s done wonders with the place.”