A Bear's Journey Read online

None of it seemed to faze Jasper, who stepped up to the counter and ordered a cappuccino, a mocha, and four different pastries. The barista had to practically crane her neck up at him, since he towered over her by at least a foot and maybe more.

  “Would it be possible to get that chocolate chip cookie microwaved?” Jasper asked.

  I didn’t know you could request that, thought Craig.

  “Of course,” the barista answered. “We’ll bring it out to you.”

  “Thank you,” Jasper said, and left a dollar in the tip jar.

  Once they got their coffees, Craig looked around for a seat.

  Then he froze, literally stopping mid-stride.

  There was a girl, sitting at the bar, with red-gold hair halfway down her back, wearing jeans and a cardigan. She was gesticulating wildly and talking to another man, their heads close together.

  Craig nearly threw his coffee cup.

  He hadn’t known he could feel like this. It was her, he was one thousand percent sure of it, even from seeing just her back. The knowledge was deep down and primal, he didn’t need to think about. He just felt it.

  His bear was just under his skin, growling and roaring and absolutely itching to get out and murder this guy who had the nerve to sit there, talking to her, in public like that.

  “Craig,” said Jasper, through gritted teeth.

  Craig jolted back to earth, and realized that his cappuccino had spilled a little into its saucer and people were looking at him oddly.

  He gave them a single business-like nod, grabbed the chocolate croissant off the counter, and joined Jasper at a small table right behind Olivia and her companion.

  “They roast their own beans here,” Jasper said, too loudly.

  Craig just nodded, then picked up the chocolate croissant and shoved a third of it into his mouth. He couldn’t believe that Jasper had wanted this table, right behind Olivia and her companion.

  Just thinking the word made his bear grumble. Craig cast a sidelong look at the guy. He was big, yeah, and a grizzly shifter for sure, but if Craig took him by surprise...

  Then he overheard a snatch of conversation.

  “...On Saturday night?”

  Craig watched from the corners of his eyes, facing Jasper who was obviously doing the same.

  Thank god for shifter hearing, he thought.

  “Where is it?” Olivia said.

  Craig shoved more croissant into his mouth. The taste barely even registered, and that made him even madder at the guy who was talking to Olivia.

  Why not just wreck everything? He thought. If we can’t have her, why bother with anything? Why not just run off into the woods and be feral forever?

  “The Double Moon Ranch,” the guy said. “Starts at eight, but we could get dinner somewhere in Long Prairie first.”

  Olivia ran one hand through her hair, and Craig thought that she shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

  She allegedly killed two wolves and this asshole wants to take her back to a town full of wolves? He thought.

  Craig shoved the rest of the croissant into his mouth and chewed it furiously. He was dimly aware of the satisfying, buttery way that it just barely crunched between his teeth, but he couldn’t pay attention to it.

  “Or we could grab dinner here,” the guy said.

  “I bet my parents would love to see you,” she said. “Give my mom more than just the three of us to cook for.”

  Across the table, Jasper was staring into his coffee like he could light it on fire with his mind.

  He’s already met her parents, Craig thought. He clenched his jaw, out of croissant to gobble.

  “That would be great,” the guy said. “I’ll eat your mom’s cooking any time I’ve got the chance.”

  They’re practically engaged, thought Craig. They’re going to get married and have a bunch of babies and then find a third person and be super happy and none of it is going to involve us at all.

  “Six o’clock?” the guy said.

  “Sure,” she said.

  He looked at his watch, then said something too quiet for Craig or Jasper to hear, and patted Olivia on the shoulder. They both got up, cleared their coffee cups, and left.

  For a brief moment, she looked straight at him, as she turned to walk away. Craig gasped involuntarily, feeling heat and light and something molten rush into him.

  He’d never seen her human face before, but somehow, it was exactly like he imagined. Jasper followed his gaze, and she looked at him too.

  The tiniest smile lifted one corner of her mouth, almost a little smile of recognition. Unable to do anything else, Craig lifted a few fingers of one hand in a wave, still staring open-mouthed.

  Then she walked through the door of the cafe, following the guy she was with, out onto the street, and disappeared again.

  Craig covered his face in his hands. Jasper stared into his coffee despondently.

  “What now?” he asked.

  Craig just shook his head.

  “Why would anyone invite her to a ranch run by wolves? In a town run by wolves? Is he trying to get her killed? Why did she say yes? Are they dating? Is there something we don’t know?”

  “Slow down,” Craig muttered. It was too much: seeing her for the first time, only to find out that she was almost certainly lost to them forever.

  “We have to go to that square dance,” Jasper said. He crumpled his napkin and tossed it onto a tiny plate. It looked like he’d also destroyed some pastries in a rage. “She can’t be there alone. What if she’s walking into a trap?”

  Something doesn’t quite add up, Craig thought. There’s something here that we’re missing.

  He almost disagreed with Jasper, because that sounded insane. Who the hell went to a dance that they weren’t invited to — a square dance at that, he hadn’t even known people still had those — to protect some girl they’d never even really talked to?

  Then he imagined Olivia, in the center of a square dancing floor, the fiddler still playing. Wolves surrounded her, growling, their horrible yellow eyes practically glowing as she turned frantically from side to side. Just the thought of it made fire burn hot through his veins.

  “Okay,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Five

  Olivia

  When she saw them, Olivia nearly dropped the coffee mug she’d been holding. This time, the guy she’d seen outside the library — Jasper, a name she knew she’d never forget — was there with another man.

  The three of them stared at each other for a beat, and once more, Olivia felt like there was a shower of sparks washing over her, raining down over her skin, hot and icy all at once. Her bear sat up and took note, growling just a little, but she didn’t feel like it was about to burst through her skin.

  This time, she didn’t open her mouth and cover her eyes or start sweating everywhere or practically have a meltdown in public.

  Instead, she half-smiled. Whatever it was about these guys, she liked it. It was terrifying and overwhelming, yes, but maybe in a good way. The guy who wasn’t Jasper, with the blue eyes and the reddish short beard, lifted a few fingers in a tiny wave.

  Then she turned and walked out, silently congratulating herself on acting like a normal person. It hadn’t felt any different from the first time she’d seen Jasper, taken by surprise on that bench, but at least she’d handled it better.

  “You know those guys?” asked her cousin Austin.

  “I met one of them really briefly,” she said. She could feel the color rising to her cheeks, just a little, at the memory. “I, um, left something on a bench and he gave it back.”

  Well, he tried, she thought. Instead I ran away and he’s still got my book.

  “Why, do you know them?” she went on.

  He just shook his head.

  “I don’t get out here enough, and it’s mostly to see family,” he said. “I’m not up on Granite Valley gossip anymore.”

  Olivia laughed.

  “Me either,” she said. “For obv
ious reasons.”

  They walked up to her car, parked on the street, and stopped.

  “This is me,” she said. “See you Saturday?”

  Austin nodded. He had brown hair, tan skin from working in the sun, hazel eyes, and seemed to perpetually have a thin layer of stubble on his face, like he’d always forgotten to shave to a few days in a row.

  “Six, at your place,” he said, then looked at her, a slight frown creasing his forehead between his eyes. “Listen, Olivia, I really want to make sure you’re comfortable with this.”

  “I think I’ll be okay,” she said. “If I start freaking out, we can always just leave.”

  “Of course,” Austin said. “And Barb and Bill really want you to know that Buck doesn’t represent all wolves.”

  “I know he doesn’t,” Olivia said.

  A tremor went through her. Buck was the wolf who’d kept her in a cage for days as retaliation for killing two of his pack. He’d only fed her kitchen scraps, though there had been one kind wolf who sneaked her steak and sausage. She wished she could remember the kind wolf’s name or what he looked like, but all she could remember was the timbre of his voice and his scent: sweat, horses, and the fresh smell of pine needles.

  Kind of how Austin smelled, actually.

  Must be from working on the ranch, she thought.

  “It was good to see you, kiddo,” Austin said. “Can I hug you?”

  Olivia wrapped her arms around her cousin and he hugged her back. He felt warm and safe, solid and protective.

  I should add that to the list, she thought. Hugs from cousins.

  “See you Saturday,” she said as she got into her car and drove away, Austin still watching from the sidewalk.

  Olivia’s mother spent most of Saturday cooking. Olivia tried to help, though she mainly got in the way. Ultimately, her mother told her to roll out the biscuit dough and cut the biscuits while she quizzed the girl about her cousin.

  “You told him he could bring his mate, right?” her mom asked, casting Olivia a sidelong look.

  “I don’t think he has a mate,” Olivia answered.

  She pressed the biscuit cutter into the dough, feeling the satisfying squish before it hit the counter.

  “No?” her mom asked. “Still no mate? Either one?”

  “I didn’t ask, mom,” Olivia said.

  “And he’s still living and working on that ranch run by wolves.”

  “I think so. That’s where the square dance is anyway, I didn’t really ask about that either.”

  Her mom sighed dramatically.

  “Have I taught you nothing?” she teased her daughter.

  “Sorry,” Olivia said, teasing right back. “Next time I’ll ask for his full five-year plan, including whether he’s got a mate, what he’s doing about it, how many kids he and his imaginary mate are going to have, the whole kit and kaboodle.”

  “But be subtle about it,” her mom said, winking at Olivia. “You can’t make him feel like he’s being interrogated.”

  “Got it,” Olivia said, cutting the final biscuit. She put the biscuits on a baking sheet and then balanced it carefully on top of a pile of food in the fridge so they’d be fresh-baked later.

  This goes on the list too, she thought, closing the fridge and wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. Gossiping with mom in the kitchen.

  The sliding door that led from the kitchen to the back yard opened, and her dad came in.

  “Smells great,” he said, reaching for a morsel.

  Olivia’s mom swatted his hand away, and her dad took it back, grinning.

  “I had to try,” he said.

  Olivia couldn’t imagine that Austin felt anything but interrogated. The moment he came to the door, holding flowers for her mom, she made a show of looking around for his mate.

  At least Austin had been doing this for a few years now, and seemed completely unruffled by the whole charade. Olivia was impressed; she probably would have shifted and tried to claw someone’s eyes out after the third time her mother dropped a heavy hint about her sister’s friend’s son, or how Austin’s cousin Julius’s mate worked for a dating site and she must know someone.

  Sitting next to Austin at the long table, surrounded by her mom, her dad, and her papa, Olivia gave silent thanks that at least her mom wasn’t on her case about a mate.

  Not yet, anyway. She figured she probably had six more months before her mom started pointing out cute boys at the grocery store.

  At last, Olivia’s papa broke in with the other topic of the night: the wolves.

  “How are they to work for?” he asked around a mouthful of pot roast.

  Olivia’s mom shot him a look, but he just wiped his mustache with his napkin.

  “Barb and Bill are great,” Austin said. “I’m the ranch manager now, so I do a lot of the day-to-day business. I look at more spreadsheets than most cowboys,” he said.

  He took another biscuit and slathered it with butter.

  “These are delicious, Aunt Lydia,” he said.

  “That’s why we mated her,” said Olivia’s dad.

  “Gary!” said her mom, swatting him for the second time that day.

  Olivia’s papa, sitting next to them, laughed and took another bite.

  “Now, Austin, you said it’s Barb and Bill,” Olivia’s mom said. “They don’t have a third?”

  “They did,” Austin said. “But he died thirty years ago when he was thrown from a horse.”

  “How awful!”

  “We’re all very careful now.”

  “Do you wear a helmet?”

  A smile tugged at the side of Austin’s mouth, but he managed to keep a straight face.

  “No ma’am,” he said.

  “You should,” Olivia’s mom admonished.

  “I’ll consider it,” Austin said, his face still perfectly serious.

  Olivia looked at the clock on the wall, trying to make apologetic eye contact with Austin.

  The moment they got into Austin’s truck, Olivia apologized.

  “I’m really sorry about my mom,” she said.

  He laughed his good-natured laugh and started the engine.

  “It’s fine,” he said. “I’ve known what to expect from Aunt Lydia for a long, long time. For a while, the word was that you went feral just to escape her questions.”

  For a moment, Olivia didn’t really know what to do. People usually avoided the f-word around her, like if they said it she’d immediately shift and start tearing everything to shreds.

  Then she laughed. The idea that she’d gone feral to escape her mom wasn’t true, of course, but all the best jokes had an air of almost-believability.

  “Still, she really ran you over the coals.”

  “I’ve had much worse,” Austin said. “With Cora having a baby, my mom’s reached some sort of fever pitch too.”

  “I figure I’ve still got a good excuse for about six months,” Olivia said, leaning her elbow against the door frame. “Then it starts.”

  “Maybe seven,” Austin said.

  They drove for half an hour, up through a mountain pass and partway down the other side, before pulling through a huge gate that said Double Moon Ranch, with a crescent moon on either side. Austin parked in a field, and when Olivia walked with him toward the brightly-lit barn, the ground squished a little under her feet.

  She hoped she’d dressed properly for a square dance. She’d never been to one before, mostly because wolves and bears just didn’t mix that much, even as humans.

  They mixed even less in their shifted form. That was why Olivia had gotten into trouble, though it had been with an entirely different wolf pack. Austin swore that Barb and Bill were much, much more reasonable.

  Olivia could feel her mom’s pot roast and biscuits churning in her stomach as she walked toward the barn. This was the first time she’d be in a big social setting, and the closer it got, the more it seemed like a bad idea.

  Am I really ready for this? She thought. Yesterday, at that
coffee shop it hadn’t seemed like a big deal at all. She’d go, learn some square dancing, and then whirl around with people in a big group.

  Then the smell hit her, and she stopped dead in her tracks.

  Wolves.

  Olivia’s vision started narrowing, the blackness tunneling in from the outside of her vision. She could see the veins in her eyes, and she started sweating again. Her legs wouldn’t work, but she was vaguely aware of Austin, standing next to her, gently taking her by the shoulder and saying her name over and over again.

  She felt like she couldn’t breathe, but then she was hyperventilating, breathing much too fast. White sparkles in front of her eyes, her hands shaking.

  Her bear roared, and she could feel the very beginning of a shift coming on, her skin breaking into fur, her fingers into claws.

  Then Austin was guiding her off to the side, his big, gentle hands on her shoulders. Sitting her down on a bale of hay.

  “Put your head between your knees,” he said, softly. “Close your eyes and breathe deep.”

  Olivia tried.

  Her therapist had told her, once, to think of an hourglass when she felt panicked like this, to think of the sand slowly sifting through to the bottom. Making a perfect pyramid, everything taking its own sweet time, no sounds but the very, very soft sound of sand on sand.

  Austin’s hand rubbed her back. Olivia thought of sand, of a pile at the bottom of a glass getting bigger, and that was all she thought of.

  She took a deep breath and could feel the cold air hit the bottom of her lungs. It felt good. She took another and another. Now she was imagining that she exhaled sand and it fell to the ground between her feet, forming that perfect pile.

  At last, she opened her eyes to see the grass between her feet strewn with straw, her vision no longer narrowed and sparkly.

  “You’re all right,” Austin said. He wasn’t asking a question, he was telling her.

  Olivia put her elbows on her knees, still looking down at the grass, and nodded.

  “I’m all right,” she repeated.

  “I’ll take you back home,” he said.