Coveted by the Bear

  The door opened, and I sat up a little straighter. Whether it was because I was relieved to see her or because I was ready to drive the hell away from this awkward situation, I couldn’t tell.

  I reached over and swung her door open for her, but Mira stopped when she saw something on the ground. She bent over to pick it up. It was a penny someone had dropped. The thought of that penny meaning so much to anyone put a raw feeling in my gut, but instead of pocketing it, Mira flipped it over neatly and replaced it in the exact spot she had found it.

  “Why did you do that?” I asked as she climbed in and shut the door.

  She stared at me in confusion.

  “The penny. Why’d you flip the penny?”

  “Oh,” she said. “It was on tails. It’s bad luck to pick one up on tails, so I flipped it to heads so someone else will have good luck.”

  And that, I decided, wasn’t all I wanted to know about Mira Fletcher.

  It was, however, all I needed to know.

  ****

  “Why didn’t you tell me the favor you needed was for electric work on Crazy Mira’s land?” my brother, Brian, asked. He’d been grumbling since the moment we turned onto Dark Corner Road.

  “Don’t call her that,” I said, shutting the door to my truck a little too soundly.

  “What’s going on with you?” he demanded, slamming his own.

  “Nothing’s going on.” I pulled two full plastic bags out of the bed of the truck and handed one to my sister, Sadey.

  “Something’s going on,” Brian said.

  “Just lay off, Brian. I asked for a favor and you said you would do it. If I would’ve known you were going to piss and moan so much, I would have just asked Drew to do it.”

  “Drew is a lightning rod. My work is better.”

  “Which is why I asked you. Plus, I didn’t think you were going to rag on me so much. You’re acting like Evan.” Low blow, but I was pissed with the twenty questions. “Don’t be that guy.”

  He grabbed his tools, backpack, and huge duffle bag out of the back of the truck. “No, it’s cool. I feel like hiking through a haunted forest on my only day off,” he said dramatically. “Except this is the part in the horror films where the sidekick,” he said, pointing at himself, “disappears, only to be found nine scenes later hanging from a tree with his face eaten off.”

  “What is wrong with you?” Sadey asked, shaking her head.

  I could see the goose bumps on her arms from where I was standing.

  “Finished?” I asked.

  “No, I’m not. Do you like her?” He searched my face like it would hold the answer.

  “Yeah, and you would too if you actually talked to her.”

  “Not like that, Caleb. You know what I mean.”

  I growled and rubbed my hands over my face before I unhooked the small gate to Mira’s property. I couldn’t tell him what my real problem was, or what I’d become, but I’d be damned if I started lying to my family. I’d give him as much as I could and hope it was enough. “Look, Mira saved my life. And I don’t just mean saved it. I mean she used up every last ounce of energy she had in her body to drag my carcass up to her house. She probably hadn’t eaten in days. You didn’t see her lying there, passed out, because of the effort she had put into getting me on her horse. Her stomach was rumbling so loud I thought it was the damned grizzly back to finish me off. She’s young, scared, has no family, has been through God-knows-what and she was still cool with standing over a stranger and shooting a bear.” I stopped walking and turned on Brian who was following quietly behind Sadey.

  “Do you know how many hours I was out there with that grizzly? Thirteen hours, and most of that time in the pitch black. Think about that, Brian. It was playing with me. Letting me bleed out slowly like it was punishing me. If I moved to try and save myself, it swatted me down like I was nothing and went back to eating my horse. I could hear him crunching its bones, knowing that it would be me next. It would leave for hours only to come back again and again, and each time I thought this is it. He’s going to kill me now. And a part of me was relieved by the end because it hurt so damned bad, I was ready. I owe her.”

  “That’s not what I asked,” Brian said quietly.

  I puffed air out of my cheeks and started walking again. He wouldn’t get an answer from me. I didn’t even understand the reasons I was here.

  “Why didn’t you tell anyone what it was like?” Sadey asked. “You never talk about it. That stuff is poison in your mind, Caleb. You have to get it out.”

  Of course Sadey would think that way. She was so like my mother had been. She thought talking about problems solved problems.

  “I feel like I’m talking about it all the time. It’s all I ever think about, dream about. And if I have a moment of peace when I’m not thinking about it, someone is staring at my scars and reminding me all over again. Talking about it doesn’t feel better. This doesn’t feel better. The only thing that takes my mind off of everything is thinking about how to fix Mira’s place up for her and pay her back for what she did.”

  Mira was an addictive distraction.

  Brian clapped me on the back, and I winced in pain. Everything still ached.

  “Sorry, man,” he said. “You won’t hear any more complaints from me.” He grinned wickedly. “But if she cooks me for dinner you have to engrave I told you so on my gravestone.”

  I ignored him and picked up the pace. We had come to an incline and carrying all of the gear was starting to wear on my legs. I was ready to get over the hill.

  “How old is she?” Sadey asked breathlessly, changing the subject.

  I had never worried about bringing my sister. She was sensitive and kind and a great buffer.

  “She’s around your age. Just turned twenty.”

  “Does she know I’m coming?” Sadey sounded nervous.

  I almost felt bad for going through with my plan before telling anyone. “No. I didn’t want to stress her out any more than she is already.”

  Brian cursed softly when the house came into view. I tried to look at it from new eyes. Maybe I had just become used to its dilapidated appearance in all of my visits here, both human and bear. In all fairness to my brother, it did look like one of the old abandoned shanties off the highway outside of town. They weren’t fit to house livestock, much less serve as a home for someone.

  Brian and Sadey followed me up the porch steps. The front door had been propped open with an old chair and the smell of bacon and eggs wafted out, reminding my stomach that my bagel breakfast that morning hadn’t been sufficient.

  As I brought my hand up to the door frame to knock, I heard the soft cadence of an old record, more scratch than music, and something more. The sound of Mira’s voice stopped my fist mid-knock.

  “I don’t know, Brady. What do you think we should do?” Mira asked in a faraway voice.

  She stood over her stove, cooking breakfast and talking to her deceased uncle as if he were in the room, and the realization made my heart slink to my ankles. She wasn’t right. Misfortune had wound itself into every strand of her life, and it had caught up to her. No one could survive what Mira had and come through to the other side undamaged. My siblings leaned over my shoulder to see what held me up.

  “Electricity sure would make the winter more bearable up here,” she continued, unaware of our presence. “Maybe you’ll stick around this time, huh?”

  The fine hairs on my body stood on end and made my skin feel prickled and raw. Watching madness wasn’t for the weak.

  “Settle down,” she said. “No one’s here. You always think someone is watching us.”

  Could old Brady Fletcher really see us from the grave? The thought made me fidgety and uncomfortable. “Mira?” I asked. “Are you okay?”

  Mira jumped like a frightened jack rabbit and clutched her chest. A squeak escaped her parted lips and her eyebrows drew up in startled fear. A huge dog leaped up from its unseen position beside the stove and let out a menacing growl. br />
  “Brady!” Mira said, recovering enough to wrap her hands through the collar at the dog’s throat.

  “You named your dog after your deceased uncle?” I asked, shocked and a little angry, as if I’d been tricked.

  The dog was scrabbling toward the door, teeth bared and ready for a fight. Mira was losing the battle. “It’s not my dog. I didn’t name him. It was my uncle’s harebrained idea to name him after himself.”

  The relief I felt was tangible. I could almost pluck it out of the air like the tight string of a guitar. Talking to one’s dead relative like they were sitting at the breakfast table? Creepy. Talking to a dog like it could understand you? Not so bad.

  I squatted down and offered my knuckles for the mutt to sniff. He growled again, but I lifted my lip and let out a low rumble too low for the others to hear. Brady-the-dog tucked his tail and bolted for the door, then disappeared into the woods out front.

  “He doesn’t like strangers,” Mira said apologetically.

  From the way she looked fearfully at my siblings who hovered in the doorway, she likely shared her dog’s sentiments.

  “Mira, this is my brother, Brian, and my little sister, Sadey,” I said, introducing them.

  Mira smiled shyly at Sadey and squinted at Brian. “I know you,” she said. “You were outside of the clinic.”

  I looked at Brian questioningly.

  “Mira came to visit you at the clinic,” he explained. “Your girlfriend wouldn’t let her through the front doors, though.”

  If I hadn’t been turning to look at Mira for further explanation, I would have missed the fallen look on her face.

  “Becca?” I guessed, and Mira nodded.

  A tiny triumphant feeling ignited in my gut that I would have to think about later. I’d been wrong. Mira had come to visit me after all, the brave woman.

  I set the bag I was carrying inside of the doorway and nodded for Sadey to do the same.

  “How long have you been out of power up here?” Brian asked, taking on his taskmaster voice. He knelt down and opened his bag to check his equipment for the third time this morning. His thoroughness was part of what made him so good.

  “We haven’t had electricity since I’ve lived here, but we had a generator that powered what we needed. That went out about nine months ago.”

  Brian’s head shot up, and his mouth hung open. “You haven’t had any power for nine months?”

  Mira’s cheeks turned the most appealing shade of pink, and I couldn’t take my eyes off the attractive color against the smooth porcelain of her skin.

  “No, sir,” she said quietly. “I thought you guys could have some breakfast before you start working. I made some eggs and bacon and biscuits.”

  “You didn’t have to spend your groceries on us,” I said.

  “I wanted to. It’s the only way I can repay you right now.”

  Sadey cut in. She understood proud people because she had been raised with them. “Smells good, Mira. Do you need any help?”

  Mira looked relieved and let out a little puff of a sigh. “Maybe you could set the table?”

  The girls got to work and, for lack of something to do, I took the two plastic bags Sadey had brought into Mira’s room. I placed them by the door and looked around. She had made her bed, and the green shirt I’d bought her was draped over a wooden chair in the corner of her room as if she were trying to keep the wrinkles from it.

  The sight made me smile, and the stretch of my lips felt good.

  It had been a long time since I had allowed a grin on my face.

  Chapter Eight

  Mira

  Breakfast had been one part relief and two parts terrifying. Brian and Caleb had remained silent for the bulk of it, but Sadey had kept up a running commentary that included me answering questions about myself. There were only so many ways to avoid speaking on the subject, which had made me most uncomfortable. She didn’t seem to be doing it out of spite, though. On the contrary, she seemed as if she was actually interested.

  Brian had stalled on taking the first bite for so long that Caleb had glared at him until he was halfway through and had complimented my cooking. It made me feel uncomfortable for him, so I ate at warp speed to have an excuse to leave the table. When I had stood to rinse my dishes, the atmosphere in the room seemed to relax and Caleb bantered easily with Sadey. I smiled over my dishes at their ease with each other and wished I’d had a sibling growing up. If, for nothing else, just to pacify the ache of loneliness that seemed to hover around this place like a storm cloud.

  The legs of the dining chair scuttled across the wooden floor as Caleb pulled out from his place at the table. I turned my head slightly to watch him approach. He hadn’t shaved this morning, and his chin sported dark blond stubble, which only made me want to touch it just to see what his casual face felt like. I wouldn’t dare, but the urge was still present. My stomach clenched as he approached with an easy smile over something Sadey had said to him. His eyes looked off to the left as if he were thinking on the conversation, but I could still see their brilliant cerulean color. Whatever animal instincts I’d dredged up yesterday, his family didn’t have the same effect on his inner bear. He placed his dishes in the sink, and in a gesture so comfortable and casual and unexpected, he placed his hand on my hip to let me know he needed me to scoot over so he could get to the trashcan beneath the sink. My breath caught at his touch, and I lifted my startled gaze to him. His wide eyes met mine and held me.

  “I’m sorry,” he breathed.

  He was so close to me that I could feel the tickle of his breath and the power that rolled off his skin, as if it was a natural part of him. I pulled away first because I would explode if I stayed captured in his gaze another moment. The absence of his hand over the thin material of my worn tank top was a dull ache. The skin there felt cold, as if it was missing something vital it didn’t know it had needed. He threw his used napkin into the small trashcan and headed back to the table. When I could draw a steady breath again, I began rinsing his dishes.

  “What?” he asked ruefully, and I turned to see Brian and Sadey staring at him like their brother had just grown antlers. “Come on, Brian, let’s get this done,” Caleb clipped as his brother rose from the table. “Sadey, I’m going to help him out today. You okay to stay here for a while?”

  I saw nervousness in Sadey’s wide eyes, but above that there was a brave determination. I liked her more for it.

  “I’ll stay here with Mira. We have girlie stuff to take care of.”

  That sounded downright terrifying, but no eight words had ever scared off two men faster, and I soon found myself completely alone with Sadey McCreedy, youngest heir to the McCreedy fortune. I was intimidated into silence. Hell, I was surprised I wasn’t in a stress coma yet, but she took charge and led me into my room.

  “I have something I want to show you, but I don’t want you to get upset. Caleb told me a little bit about you,” Sadey explained. She looked at the hurt on my face and specified. “All good stuff, I swear. But he said you wouldn’t accept clothes. I’m going to beg you to reconsider. Woman to woman.”

  I had already started shaking my head. I was nobody’s charity case, and it didn’t sit well with me that he’d been telling people I needed clothing.

  She turned away from my negative answer and rifled through one of the bags against the wall nearest the empty dresser.

  “Don’t say no until you see this,” she said through a smile as she pulled out a white summer dress with a light pink satin ribbon around the waist. The straps were thick, made to fan the tips of feminine collar bones.

  I bit my lip. It really was the most beautiful dress I’d ever seen in person. It seemed Sadey could feel my resolve falter because she pounced.

  “I swear,” she whispered earnestly. “I’ll never, ever tell anyone I gave you these.”

  “Where’d you get them?” I asked, standing on tiptoes and stretching my neck to peer into the opened bag.

  “They
were mine. I already had them bagged up to take into the city. I wanted to donate them, but then Caleb said he thought you were about the same size as me.” Sadey pulled shirts, pants, jeans, shorts, dresses, and shoes out one by one. “If you don’t like any of them, we’ll re-bag them and donate the cast offs.”

  My eyes kept traveling back to the white sundress.

  Sadey grinned brightly. “Try it on.”

  And try it on I did. Except I didn’t stop with the sundress. I tried on every single piece of clothing Sadey had brought. A lot of the colors were made for Sadey’s skin tone. She had blond hair like Caleb and fair skin, and some of the pastel colors that looked so amazing against her complexion made me look like I had jaundice, but who was I to be choosey? In the end, I only tossed two shirts that were much too short back into the bag.

  My emotions were everywhere. As if I had just gone on the longest shopping trip in creation, I was exhausted. On the other hand, I had actually had fun trying on the beautiful clothes, knowing that tomorrow morning I would wake up and have a choice.

  I laughed, the noise sounding foreign. I plopped on top of the pile of clothes on my bed and pretended I was swimming. Sadey had taken up the chair beside my bed and laughed as she folded up three pair of jeans that were way too loose on me but would be helpful during the cold winter.

  “Mira, do you want me to cut your hair?” she asked suddenly, as if she were saying it before she lost the nerve to do so.

  I hadn’t had my hair cut in a really long time. Not from lack of wanting, but from lack of resources.