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A Very Beary Christmas: A Howls Romance by Abbie Zanders (6)

Chapter 7

Sam

It was her! Her golden hair was disheveled, and she looked as though she had been ridden hard and put away wet, but there was no question it was her.

Big, tired brown eyes first looked at O’Malley, then rose up to me, at first questioning, then widening in recognition. “Sam?”

I smiled and nodded. “Yeah, Chloe, it’s me.”

She fainted.

I caught her before she hit the ground, scooped up her tiny body and held her against me. “It’s freezing in here, and she’s burning up,” I told O’Malley.

He nodded. “I’ll go get the doc and tell Gladys to turn up the heat.”

Tucking Chloe against me, I went over to the bed and sat down, unwilling to let her go. She was shivering, shaking like a leaf. I held her close, willing some of my body heat into hers.

Her eyes fluttered, and then she looked up at me. “Is it really you, Sam, or am I dreaming again?”

The knowledge that she had been dreaming of me made my chest both swell and ache. “Yeah, Chloe, it’s really me. O’Malley went to get the doc.”

“Will you stay for a little while?”

“Hush now, I’m not going anywhere.”

Her lips curved into a ghost of a smile, even as her eyes closed and she snuggled closer against me.

I held her like that until O’Malley returned with a capable-looking woman he introduced as Doc Banner. The doc took one look at me then told both of us in no uncertain terms to get out while she examined Chloe.

I knew my eyes had gone full bear when hers widened, but to her credit, she stood her ground. O’Malley’s hand on my arm and assurances convinced me that it was best for Chloe.

We went back downstairs, where Chloe’s landlady, Mrs. Jankowski, fixed us a cup of tea, visibly upset. O’Malley gently but firmly chastised her about her frugality, to which Mrs. Jankowski broke down in tears and started talking about her grandson, who was apparently “a good boy who fell in with a bad crowd.” She was signing over the lion’s share of her social security checks to him, claiming he needed the money more than she did.

After a few minutes of listening to that, I was convinced her grandson needed a swift kick in the ass more than he needed her money.

I got up to pace around at the bottom of the steps. I didn’t need to hear any more excuses, not when my mate was upstairs sick and freezing.

The door was opened, and then the doctor came down the stairs.

“How is she?” I asked, all but blocking her path.

“I’m sorry. Who are you?”

“Sam. Sam Brown. I’m her ...” I caught myself before I said ‘mate’ “... old friend.”

She narrowed her eyes at me. I had the feeling she suspected what I was. I hoped she did, because then she would understand how determined I could be and it would save us both a lot of time.

“It’s the flu,” she confirmed. “She’s weak and dehydrated, but she’ll be fine with some TLC. I gave her something to make her more comfortable, but there’s not much we can do with a virus. We’ll just have to let it run its course. In the meantime, she needs plenty of fluids, lots of rest, and to be kept warm.” She directed a pointed glare at Mrs. Jankowski at this last directive, who had the good sense to lower her eyes.

Damn straight the woman was going to be turning up the heat, at least until I could get Chloe out of here and back to the lodge with me.

When the doctor left, I looked to Mrs. Jankowski. It was important that she, too, had no misconceptions. “I will be staying on Chloe’s couch until she’s better,” I told her. She looked as if she wanted to argue, but the hundred bucks I slapped into her palm made her reconsider. To O’Malley, I offered a couple more bills and said, “Can you keep that stew coming?”

He waved me off, looking slightly offended. “Of course.” The man earned himself some more points in my book.

I went back upstairs, my heart breaking all over again when I saw Chloe huddled under the covers.

She opened her eyes when my weight settled on the bed beside her. “It really is you, isn’t it, Sam?”

I reached out and stroked her hair. “Yeah.”

“You need to go,” she said weakly, causing my heart to seize, until she added, “I don’t want you to catch what I have. It sucks.”

“I won’t.” My shifter nature meant I was immune to human ailments like the flu, common colds, and diseases in general, but she didn’t know that. “I’m not going anywhere. Can I get you anything? Water? Soup? Another blanket?”

“No,” she said through a yawn and a soft sigh. “I’m good. Just don’t leave yet.” Then she was asleep.

I tucked the covers around her, adding my coat, wanting her to be surrounded by my scent. It was a shifter thing.

While she rested peacefully, I familiarized myself with her space. It didn’t take long since there wasn’t much. Then I poured O’Malley’s stew into a small pot and turned the hot plate on low so it would be warm for her when she awoke.

Next, I looked through her paintings. They all had one common theme: me.

I was the big brown grizzly in each and every one. That amazed and humbled me. As far as I knew, Chloe had never seen me in my bear form, nor did she know about shifters. I could only surmise that whatever had forged the connection between us had also provided her with subtle hints along the way until we found each other again.

That made me feel slightly better about telling her the truth about what I was and what she was to me. I had no idea how Chloe would react, but I felt great relief in the fact that she hadn’t hated me upon sight for breaking my promise and failing to protect her all those years ago.

I settled in then pulled out my phone, typing out the message I had been praying I’d be able to send since I left the lodge.

There will be one more for Christmas. I’m bringing Chloe home.