Alpha's Rescue (Shifter Ops 5)

The cabin is empty. No sign of Teddy in the kitchen or living room. At least there’s no bear. I’m not sure I’m up to shooing away a bear before coffee. Or in this lifetime.

I step out of the cabin. Without a helicopter landing in the meadow, the grasses and wildflowers are pretty as a picture on a postcard. I’d snap a photo if my phone wasn’t as cracked as my head.

Man, I’ve been through a lot in the last twenty-four hours. Hiked a mountain, hit my head, lost my stepbrother, got rescued by a sexy mountain man and ensconced in his cabin… There’s too much to even recount. Cuddles with Teddy were the high point. My head injury and forgetting how it happened is the low. Bear sightings, including a bear raiding Teddy’s refrigerator, are somewhere in the middle.

I’m also worried about my brother. I’d be more frantic about finding him if I deep down didn’t believe that he simply abandoned me and hiked down without me. I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt and assume he left before I hit my head.

Hmmm.

All these thoughts are dark, and it’s a beautiful day. I’m in a field full of happy flowers. I spent the night in the arms of a mountain man. For now, I can pretend I’m on vacation. I’ll deal with the rest later.

I wade deeper into the field, shielding my eyes from the sun. I could attempt a Sound of Music montage, complete with twirling, but that might not be good for my head, so I settle for a gentle stroll, following a path through the grasses towards the treeline. Beyond the copse of pines, there’s a row of wooden boxes. A few more steps, and I hear a humming sound. Bees. The boxes are beehives.

There’s a shadowy shape moving among them. I shield my eyes, about to call Teddy’s name, when the figure lumbers into view.

It’s a bear, the biggest one I’ve ever seen. Its fur is dappled in shadow, but its paws are clearly outlined as it picks up the top of a beehive and places it–crawling with bees–on another hive. Bees hover in the air around the bear’s head. Some of them land on its fur, but they don’t seem angry. The bear’s movements are slow and calm as it shuffles the boxes of beehives around.

I rub my eyes. Is this really happening? I’ve stopped short in the cluster of trees, unable to walk, unwilling to run and draw the bear’s attention to me.

The bear sees me anyway and rears up on its hind paws. It’s still in shadow, so I can’t tell if it’s brown or black or a pizzly bear. Not that the color of its fur matters. If the bear wants to eat me, I’m dead either way.

For a long moment, the bear and I stare at each other with the bees buzzing between us.

The bear waves a huge paw at me and drops to all fours then lumbers off into the forest beyond the beehives.

I sag against a tree trunk. Teddy’s right. I must have hit my head harder than I thought.

“Lana!” Teddy storms out from behind the cabin.

“Teddy,” I say weakly.

He snatches me up and heads back to the cabin. “You can’t be out here, it’s too dangerous.”

“I know.” I clutch his neck tight. His beard chafes my forehead, and it feels just right.

Once we’re back in the cabin, I get over my shock. “I just saw a bear trying to get honey out of the beehives back there. You should’ve seen it, Teddy. It was different from the others. I didn’t see its fur, but it was huge. It had to be a pizzly bear.”

Teddy grunts and puts me down on the couch. “Are you okay?”

“I’m not hurt.”

He’s patting me down, so I catch his hands. “This is incredible. I can't believe no one’s done a nature show on this mountain.”

Teddy pulls away. “No shows. We like our privacy.”

“I get it. But it’s a shame no one’s done even one documentary. This place is a national treasure. It’s almost as if the bears around here act like people.”

Teddy has paced to the door. He pushes it shut and stands in the shadows, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

He doesn’t answer. Was it something I said?

It's funny, I can let Bentley's rejection roll off my back, but Teddy's bothers me. I draw my knees up to my chest.

Teddy’s head is bowed, but I sense his agitation. It must have been something I said. Or did.

“I should probably get going. Get out of your hair. Get back to my business.”

“No,” he barks.

“No?” I blink at him.

He returns to my side as swiftly as he left. Once he gets close, he doesn’t seem to know what to do, so he grabs the blanket and tucks it around me. “You need to stay here and rest.” His gentle tone makes me relax.