by Anna Lowe
Home. Did she really dare believe?
Jessica clapped once and smiled as if everything was decided. “So, lunch. Would you like a wrap or a sandwich?”
Sarah blinked at her. Was it really so easy to do what she had to do?
Jessica took one more look at her, then stepped behind the counter. “I’ll make both.”
Sarah plucked at her loose-fitting blouse and jeans. Did she really look that hungry? Probably. Just about the only thing holding up her pants was the baby bump, because she was rail thin. She shuddered to think what the stress of the past months might mean for the baby.
“No thinking,” Jessica ordered her with a kind smile. “Just let go for a little while, and let someone take care of you for a change.”
Sarah tried her best to smile. “Not sure I know what that’s like.”
“Well, you came to the right place. You want papaya or mango in your smoothie?”
She could practically feel her body crying for vitamins. “Um…”
“Got it.” Jessica smiled. “Both.” She gestured Sarah over to the counter and started throwing chunks of fruit into a blender — richly colored, juicy chunks of papaya, orange, and strawberry Sarah could practically taste with her eyes.
It wasn’t long before she was licking her fingers from the best chicken wrap she’d ever tasted, bar none, and downing her first smoothie in what felt like years. The second she drained the glass, Jessica snatched it away, refilled it, and thumped it back on the counter along with a grilled vegetable sandwich.
“Oh, my God. This is so good,” Sarah mumbled between bites.
Jessica shot her a weary smile. “It better be. We’re opening tomorrow.”
Sarah looked around the café. The walls were sparkling white, and every chair was painted a different color, making a rainbow effect. Tiny wildflowers filled the vases placed on each table, and an oversize photo of a nearly full moon rising over a magnificent desert landscape hung on the wall. The place was cheery. Upbeat. Full of hope.
In other words, everything she’d given up on.
“Your café will do great.”
“You’ll do great,” Jessica said with a wink.
Jess kept the food and drink coming as she laid out her master plan without letting Sarah get a word in edgewise. “You can stay in one of the spare rooms upstairs and work the register here in the café. I’m desperate for help, and it shouldn’t be too hard on you.” Jessica’s eyes dropped to the baby bump, and she smiled. “It’ll all work out. Trust me.”
Sarah felt like she could trust Jessica with just about anything, except foreseeing the future. What about Soren? How would it ever work out?
“We’ll figure it out,” Jess said. “Don’t worry.”
Worry was about the only thing she had — in spades.
“But…but…”
“But, hush,” Jessica said.
The food was delicious, and Jessica’s company was so comforting that Sarah gave in at some point. She ate until she was too full to fit another bite, and then followed Jessica out the back entrance, into the place next door, and up an uneven flight of stairs.
The building had to be at least a century old, judging by the high ceilings and airy rooms, but the place sure needed a lot of work.
“This is the apartment. I know it doesn’t look like much, but it’s getting there. You can have this room,” she said, pointing.
“Really, I can’t impose this much,” Sarah protested, though the words came more out of habit than from the heart.
Jessica just shook her head. “I can’t pay back everyone who helped me, but I can pay forward. And believe me, I have a lot of catching up to do.” She smiled kindly. “Now, get some sleep. Everything will seem easier after you sleep.”
“I doubt I can sleep…”
“Then just rest a little.” Jessica showed her to the second room on the right — one with big, arched windows looking on to the street. The room Soren had pointed to earlier.
Every nerve in her body twisted and turned. Did Soren live in this apartment, too?
“Just rest,” Jessica murmured, spreading fresh sheets on the mattress on the floor.
Sarah leaned against the doorframe. She didn’t believe for one second that she would ever find any rest or that she’d found some kind of miraculous solution to her predicament. But if nothing else, she’d found a place for a brief reprieve. She let her eyes slide shut. God, she was tired.
“Sorry we don’t actually have a bed.”
“This is fine,” she said, straightening before Jess caught her sagging.
It was more than fine. It was perfect. As perfect as she could wish for. Cool, clean sheets. A nice, soft pillow, and a second, firmer one, just perfect for curling up against. A glass of water at the bedside, the soothing scent of lavender, and a quiet ceiling fan.
Ten seconds after she lay down, she drifted off to sleep, wondering how soon the nightmares would come.
Chapter Five
Soren stalked into the office at the back of the saloon, congratulating himself for keeping his shit together long enough to escape back here. He closed the door, flopped into the chair, and stared at the wall.
Sarah. Sarah Boone, back in his life. His bear was still shedding tears of joy at the thought. His human side, too, but the joy was tempered by mournful thoughts.
Sarah Boone was no longer his.
He stared at the stacks of paperwork on the desk, took a deep breath, and promised his bear a long walk in the woods later that night. Right now, he had to get to work as if it was any other day.
Which was ridiculous, because how could he do that on the day Sarah had come back from the dead? The day he ought to have gone from existing to living, if it hadn’t been for fate kicking him in the balls at the same time as it granted his most fervent wish.
The door squeaked open, and he looked up with a scowl, ready to cut off another lecture from his brother.
But it wasn’t his brother. It was Jessica’s younger sister, Janna. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.
“You really shouldn’t have run out on Sarah like that.”
He sighed and scraped a hand through his hair. That was the catch about leading a clan full of feisty she-wolves who liked to speak their minds. They could and they did, more frequently than he’d like. Especially Janna.
“Janna,” he started.
She ignored him and plowed right on. “You could have been nice. I mean, really. The poor thing…”
“Janna,” he growled.
“She was barely on two feet and—”
“Janna!” he barked, and she went from lecturing to giving him the evil eye.
Soren glared at the youngest of his denmates. The problem with Janna was that innocent little sister thing she had going. And that she was right. What had he been thinking, running out on Sarah like that?
“Not discussing this with you, Janna. Not now. Not ever. Got it?” Janna might be right, but he was alpha here, and that was that.
She heaved a frustrated sigh and glowered a little longer before opening her mouth — again.
“Just think how much she can help. Her parents used to run the trading post in Black River. Didn’t she do the books for them?”
Soren kept his mouth shut. Yes, Sarah had helped her parents run the trading post. A modest, middle-of-nowhere place that scraped by on doing a little bit of everything because there weren’t too many stores in their two-bit town. Yes, Sarah knew all about running a business. And yes, Sarah was supersmart. The only reason she hadn’t gone off to some fancy college was money and her loyalty to her ailing parents.
Sure, Sarah could help the saloon and café. A lot, because they were expanding before they really had the man or woman power to do so. He looked at the mountain of paperwork on his desk, though his mind was already running away.
To the past. To Montana. To the trading post. He and Sarah had known each other as kids, when they’d snuck off to climb trees and play
knights in the woods. Sometime in their teens, they made the transition to sneaking off to make out in the woods, and he’d known the whole time it was destiny. She was his destiny.
His first time had been with Sarah. His last time, too, because he’d never, ever been remotely interested in anyone else. By the time they hit twenty-five, they’d all but claimed the abandoned cabin halfway up Cooper’s Hill as their own, spending every spare day and night there whenever work allowed. They’d make a fire in the stone hearth, make love for hours on a mattress he’d hauled in, and talk about fixing the place up some day. They’d carried water from the creek, cooked over open flames, and headed out on long hikes she loved as much as he did. She loved all of it — his outdoorsy, capable Sarah.
She’d make a great bear, his inner beast murmured for probably the thousandth time in his life.
“Earth to Soren, hello.”
He pulled his focus back to the present. Jesus, he could really kill Janna sometimes.
“Good-bye, Janna,” he said, pushing the door shut with his foot.
“Fine,” she called from behind the door. “Be a grouchy bear. I’m going to check if Sarah is all set up in her room.”
He nearly groaned out loud. They had a couple of spare rooms in the sprawling maze of an apartment upstairs, but only one made sense to offer a guest. Janna and Cole had the suite of rooms around the back. Jess and Simon had set up a cozy nest for themselves in the section of the apartment that stretched over the café. Opposite the bathroom — the only working bathroom, a problem they really, really had to fix soon — was a big, pleasant room, but it was completely unfurnished. No curtains, no bed. Which left…
He winced. That left Simon’s old room, right next to his. He’d die living that close to Sarah without being able to touch her. She’d be torturously near, yet so far. He would be able to sniff her heavenly scent, hear the siren call of her voice, see her every morning and every night — but he’d never, ever be able to touch his true love, his destined mate.
Why not? his bear protested. We love her, and she loves us.
He stared at the desk, seriously considering thumping his head there a few times. Maybe that would bring the stupid beast to its senses.
She loves someone else, idiot. She slept with someone else.
And Christ, he’d pretty much encouraged her to, hadn’t he? When he left Montana, he told her he was breaking up with her because there was no way it would ever work, not with his clan dead set against it. So he’d said good-bye and even encouraged her to find another guy.
And judging by the baby belly, she’d done just that.
Maybe you shouldn’t judge, the bear tried. Maybe there’s a good reason.
He clenched his jaw so hard it clicked as he mulled that over. It was his own fucking fault. Clearly, Sarah was over him. So why couldn’t he get over her?
His bear snorted. She loves us. Wants us. Didn’t you see the look in her eyes?
Yes, damn it, he’d noticed the way she lit up when he’d stopped her on the sidewalk.
So why don’t you let her explain?
He shook his head vehemently. No way did he need to hear how she’d screwed some other guy.
She loves us. We love her, his bear insisted. True love—
He cut the beast off right there. What the hell do you understand about true love?
His bear just snorted. More than you.
Did he have to spell it out for the beast? She’s pregnant — by some other guy!
His bear just shrugged. Doesn’t make her less mine. Just let her explain—
He banged a fist on the desk, making the phone rattle and a pen jump. What the hell could there be to explain?
Anger took over for a second, and his bear claws popped out, raking four parallel lines into the oak desk. The desk he’d spent hours restoring, right after he’d finished work on the carved bar, back when they’d first taken over the saloon.
Stupid bear.
Stupid man.
Stupid bear, he roared. Let me think!
The silence in his mind was bliss, though he suspected the bear was only giving him the headspace to find a way to get back together with Sarah, which he could never, ever do. She was a human, and besides, an alpha wasn’t supposed to beg for a woman to take him back. An alpha had to keep his pride, no matter what misery that might entail.
He schooled his spinning mind into a colder, more calculating state. Fine. Sarah could take Simon’s old room. He wouldn’t let it bother him. She could work as easy a job as they could create for her and rest her ragged feet. If she worked in the café — and God knew Jessica needed the help — they’d keep opposite hours, with her busy in the mornings and him working late nights. Every spare minute he had, he’d spend ferreting out the Blue Bloods and finding some place for Sarah to go where he knew she would be safe.
Safe, his bear nodded solemnly. Keep our mate and the baby safe.
Just the thought of someone threatening the baby made his blood boil. He would never stop thinking of Sarah as his, no matter what. And by extension, that meant…
He stopped short, because whoa, it hit him for the first time.
The baby could be ours, too, his bear breathed, and damn if his gritty voice didn’t rise in hope.
For a split second, Soren’s soul galloped away with the idea. He loved Sarah, so he couldn’t help but love her baby, too. And hell, wasn’t that just what he’d been hoping they’d get around to before he’d been forced to leave Montana? Every time he and Sarah had come across a hiker with a baby backpack, he’d wondered what that would be like — a pair of tiny feet bouncing over his shoulders and a cooing voice narrating all the wonders of nature as they walked.
Of course, those visions always involved a baby he’d helped make, but hell, Sarah could make a batch of burned cupcakes and he’d love them, too.
If the baby is Sarah’s, how could we not love it? his bear demanded.
And damn, did it take a hard swallow to fight those thoughts away.
It’ll be perfect, his bear rambled on. Sarah will be safe here. The baby will be safe. We’ll keep them safe.
For a moment, he nearly nodded along. But then it hit him. Sarah and her baby would never be truly safe here, even with him ready to defend them to the death. The Blue Bloods had their eye on the saloon, and inviting Sarah to stay could provoke the enemy into another attack.
God, the irony. There was no one better to keep her safe than him, but simply being near him would make Sarah a target.
The baby, a target? his bear growled, and the hair bristled on the back of his neck. So we kill the Blue Bloods. Get rid of them all.
He wanted that — God, how he dreamed of that — but how? Where? When? The Blue Bloods were nowhere, even if they seemed to be everywhere. Eliminating them was a game of patience — and caution, because the Blue Bloods fought dirty and mean. They could strike any time, any place. A week from now. A year. The only sure thing was that the enemy would strike as soon as they found out Sarah was here.
He took a deep breath and forced himself to face facts. Sarah could stay with his shifter clan for a short time, but then he’d have to let her go. She was human; he wasn’t. It would never work. Not with her, not with the baby. Not with enemies that would hurt them for mixing with his kind.
For their own sakes, he had to let them go.
Chapter Six
Sarah woke slowly and did a double take at the bedside clock. Had she really slept fourteen hours straight?
Wow. It sure felt like it. Fourteen glorious hours, blissfully free of the usual nightmares. She’d slept clear through the previous day and the entire night and woke feeling better than she had in months. She stared at the ceiling for a while, listening to the sounds of a household quietly waking up. A shower tap rattled from somewhere down the hall. The scent of coffee wafted from downstairs, and footsteps padded outside the closed door.
She stretched under the sheets. God, when was the last time she’d grabbed more
than a short nap? When was the last time she woke slowly instead of jolting to her senses, terrified at what she might find?
Someone had set fresh, neatly folded clothes on the chair by the bed along with a towel and a Post-it note signed with a smiley face and a big letter J.
Sarah reached for the note with trembling fingers and held it close. As a kid, she’d kept an old shoe box and filled it with precious finds like white feathers and pretty rocks and a robin’s egg.
Your treasure chest, huh? her dad had said.
She bit her lip and slid a hand over her belly. The treasure chest was gone, along with her parents, her home, and whatever innocence she’d managed to hang on to as an adult. But damn, if she still had the box, that note would have fit right in.
She took a deep breath and forced herself up. She was thirty now, hardly a kid. And she had a job to do. After listening nervously at the door for a second, she stepped out into the hall.
“Morning!” Janna, the younger sister, called so casually, you’d have thought they had been sharing an apartment for years. Janna had one towel wrapped around her hair and another around her torso as she bounced down the hall. “Bathroom’s all yours.”
Sarah stepped into the still-steamy bathroom as Jessica called up the stairs. “Are you coming, Janna? Today’s the big day!”
It took Sarah a second to register what that meant. Of course — opening day for the café. Her chance to pay back a little of the kindness Jess had shown her. So instead of soaking in the old claw-foot tub, she sped through a shower, combed the tangles out of her long hair, and hurried downstairs.
Well, she tried to hurry, but she ran into something big and solid as she turned the corner to the stairs and stood blinking for a second in surprise.
“Sorry,” Soren rumbled. He’d been coming the other way, and now he was holding her by both arms while she recovered her balance.
Fiery tingles ran up her arms, divided into little lightning bolts, and short-circuited every nerve in her body.
His eyes sparkled as she leaned in out of habit — or instinct or sheer stupidity. A good thing she hit the brakes before she got up on the balls of her feet and planted a good-morning kiss on his lips.
