Chapter Three
Olivia struggled against strong arms that held her tight, but not painfully so.
“Take it easy. Everything’s okay.” His voice warmed her from the inside out, like a shot of fine, aged whiskey. Smooth with a slow burn.
Exhaustion gripped her and the day’s tension had tightened every muscle in her upper back and neck. Something about the man comforted her, and slowly she relaxed in his arms until she went limp, unable to hold her own body up or fight against the unseen any longer. If he was the Big Bad Wolf, then she’d not be able to fight him today.
No, he wasn’t Alfred. Her legs dangled off the edge of a soft chair or couch or something, and her ankle was numb. She’d never been so tired, and so confused. Surely they hadn’t gone all the way to Oakwood. Her luck had never been that good, and there was no reason to think it was going to change today. Besides, even a shifter couldn’t have made it so far in the bad weather.
The air warmed her, and there was no wind slapping her hair on to her face, no sound of twigs snapping under an icy load. The lack of noise was deafening. He must have brought her inside.
Somewhere.
“Who are you?” She sniffed, her breath catching in her throat. No! Sniffed again, scenting bear, not wolf. The chill returned to her gut and she shook. Bears and wolves had a tenuous peace, and she’d heard plenty of stories about what the bears did when they wanted something.
They took it.
Not sure whether to be afraid of the bear or happy he wasn’t Alfred, she licked her lips and waited for his response. At his mercy to some degree, she listened for anything that might help her escape if she needed to. An opening door or a piece of furniture she could hit him with if he tried to hurt her. Blind, and with an injured ankle, she was at quite a disadvantage.
“I’m a park ranger here in Deep Creek.” The man’s voice, strong yet worried, resonated inside her. “You can trust me.”
“Says who?” Her voice came out weak and uneven. Dammit, the day hadn’t gone as planned.
“I didn’t hurt you. I found you.”
“I wasn’t lost.” She pulled from his grasp too hard and fell backward, then quickly sat up. The cushions were soft, like a couch. And there was a fire—she hadn’t noticed it before but as the heated air brushed against her skin, ripples of sensation crawled up her arms. She turned her face to the heat, palms out, closing her eyes for a brief moment to savor the warmth. The room echoed with the crackling and popping of the fire.
Still so tired.
The bear harrumphed. “Well, excuse me. What were you doing, pretty much face down in the snow? Checking for buried acorns?”
She felt his weight lift off the couch then heard his footsteps cross what sounded like a wooden floor. Where was she? A house in Deep Creek, maybe. But where? Could she escape? The mocking tone in his voice set her nerves aflame and tears filled her eyes. She wouldn’t cry in front of this bear. Typically, she held it together well, even with Alfred picking on her.
This bear was no match for what Alfred could inflict, but she was so exhausted, she didn’t have the strength to continue the banter with him.
So what if he rescued her? She didn’t owe him. The next thing he’d tell her would be that he’d called Alfred and the wolf was on his way to claim her. Her chin quivered and she couldn’t stop it. Her whole body shook, and her muscles ached.
Had she planned and escaped only to be turned back to the pack? She’d spent too much time figuring out when to leave—when the wolves were busy and less likely to notice. The only miscalculation had been the weather.
It may have cost her everything, and she should’ve taken into account that the weatherman was often wrong about how much snowfall Deep Creek was going to get. She should’ve waited till later in the season to leave, but the fear that Alfred might set a wedding date sooner than later had been enough of a catalyst that she wanted out as soon as possible.
How long had she been lying in the snow before the bear found her? She’d heard footsteps as she closed her eyes. That must’ve been him approaching. She was lucky he’d seen her, or scented her.
“What were you doing face down in the snow?” he repeated.
“Obviously, I fell.”
“So you needed me.” The grin in his voice was as apparent as the scent of masculinity that flooded off him.
She sniffed again, and the smell of bear, and fire, and wood permeated her senses. No wolves had been in the room in a long time, if ever. Maybe Alfred didn’t yet know where she was. The hope was almost painful in its intensity.
“I didn’t say that.” She fought against the urge to cross her arms and chew her bottom lip. The last thing she wanted to appear as was a petulant child.
The ranger poked at the fire—she recognized the sound of metal against wood and the scrape of coals on the hearth. A blast of heat washed over her as the fire was stoked higher. “Well? Why were you out in the snowstorm in the first place?”
She smirked and crossed her arms anyway. If he was going to prod her, she was going to push back. “None of your business.” Her tears dried on her cheeks.
“Fine, I’m merely trying to help.”
“You can help me by telling me where I am. I need to get to Oakwood.”
“I brought you back to my ranger cabin. Wrapped up your ankle and treated a nasty cut on your shin.” His back was still to her—she could tell by the muffled tone of his voice. His voice grew louder—he must’ve turned around. “I got some warm dry socks out for you, if you want them. I was about to put them on your feet when you woke up.”
“Yes, thanks.” She nodded, teeth clattering. Once she got warm, she could go back to being perturbed at him for taking her to his cabin without her consent. “I’d like some warm dry socks.”
“Don’t think you’ll be heading to Oakwood tonight. Not on that ankle and not in this heavy snow. I wouldn’t go out on ranger duty unless it was an emergency.”
Who did he think he was? The Deep Creek park rangers were always messing in the wolves’ business. She felt beside her for the socks.
“They’re right there...” His voice held a question.
Cold dread settled in her stomach. He didn’t know, but he was figuring it out. Quickly. And he was probably pointing to where the socks had landed. Could she fool him? She felt for the socks on the cushion she sat on, acting like she was merely pulling at the hem of her shirt.
Her hand warmed when he covered it with his own, and tingles shot up her arm at his soft touch. She jerked her hand away like she’d been burned by fire. She could sense his presence, close. He didn’t move away and she breathed in a deep breath, unable to stop herself from scenting his intoxicating manliness. The dread in her gut spread and bile burned the back of her throat.
She was the enemy.
Injured or not, he probably didn’t like that she was wandering through the forest on the bears’ turf. The wolves were as territorial. It was as if Deep Creek were divided by magical lines delineating territory. Bears, wolves, lions.
He towered over her—she felt it. Yet, he didn’t say a word, which made things worse. How could she respond to something when he stared at her without questions?
She swallowed hard. “What is it?” she whispered.
The socks were shoved into her hand and she clutched the thick ball of fabric.
“You can’t see, can you?” His voice was warmer than the fire and low, full of empathy. Compared to Alfred’s shrill whine, the bear was downright soothing. She wasn’t used to anyone feeling sorry for her. Most thought she was a drain on pack resources and were glad she was going to be wed to Alfred, put to use providing heirs. In their eyes, she was finally giving back.
She was the disabled wolf among a pack of warriors and thieves.
He cupped her cheek, his rough thumb tracing the line of her jaw, then he pulled away.
She shook her head. Now what? Would he take advantage of the poor blind wolf? Her heart fluttered in fear, and she tugged the sock on to her good foot in silence, the popping and crackling of the fire the only sound in the room. Maybe she should’ve expected as much. The wolves always did say the bears were barbaric.
“I’m sorry.” His words no more than a whisper, his fingertips trailing up her arm.
“Not your fault.” She turned away from his touch, unsure of what to think. He’d felt comforting, not frightening. But that went against everything she’d learned. She eased the other sock over her tender ankle, wincing as it passed over the bandaged area. Surely, her shifter ability was already helping it heal faster.
Not quickly enough.
Maybe by morning she could escape.
“Meow?” Then a bump against her leg.
A cat? Olivia froze, then sniffed the air. Yes, she should’ve scented it immediately. Sure enough, the bear had a cat.
How unusual.
“That’s Nar. As in Narcissus. And I’m Powell.”
Powell moved away, and she cooled from the loss of his presence. The shivering returned, and she ran her hands along her pant legs—her clothes damp from the wet snow.
Despite her discomfort, she smiled, though she hid it as much as she could. The idea of a huge bear taking care of a little cat amused her. She didn’t know why. Who was the alpha? Wasn’t the cat usually the one in charge? She ducked her head to suppress a giggle and smoothed the oversized socks. Her feet already thanked her for the fuzzy warmth, though her injured ankle began to throb as feeling returned in the thaw.
After straightening the other sock over the bandage on her ankle, she tugged her shirt straight. How much should she tell the bear? Sure, he’d rescued her, but that didn’t buy him her trust. For all she knew, he’d take Alfred’s side. “Olivia. I guess I owe you my life. You’re right, I wouldn’t have survived long out there, so thank you.”
“I thought you wanted to be out in the snow.” His words carried a smile. “I can dump you back out there if you want, but I don’t think you’d make it through the night.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me. Is that what you want? I can arrange it.” His levity spread.
“I don’t want to leave right now, but soon. I have to.”
“You aren’t going to be able to walk for a while. Even with super shifter healing power, it’s going to take some time.”
“It won’t take that long.” She’d show him. Maybe she couldn’t see or shift, but she’d always healed quickly.
“We’ll see.” His voice held plenty of skepticism.
“I heal fast.”
“So do I, but there’s a massive snowstorm outside to complicate things.”
“I won’t be here long.” She tugged the elastic hair band from her hair and finger-combed the braided tangles. Yeah, the snow would be a problem, but she’d worry about that when it was time.
“You can stay here at my cabin while you heal. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“I guess I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” She shifted on the couch, rubbing her hands together. Her skin was so dry. “I appreciate you bandaging my ankle.” He must’ve removed her gloves while she was passed out. And her coat and scarf.
“I could still toss your backside out in the snow.” The humor returned to his voice. “If you don’t want to be here.”
“I’ll stay inside.” She wouldn’t give him the benefit of a smile. “Where it’s warm.”
“Let me get you a blanket and some coffee or something to eat.”
“A blanket would be great. But I’m not hungry.”
“Maybe later, then.” He walked away and she heard a sound from the other side of the room. The cat jumped up onto something, small thuds followed by claws on wood.
“Maybe.” If she had her way, right now she’d be sleeping not eating. She yawned.
“Get down, Nar.” Powell came close, and then she was surrounded by a heavy blanket on her shoulders.
“Thank you.” She tugged the blanket tight. Whatever had happened—whether she’d hit herself on the head and knocked herself out or what, her current situation could be a lot worse. Would Alfred find her at the ranger cabin? She turned in the direction she assumed Powell was standing. “Where is your cabin located?”
“In Deep Creek. On the fringe of the southwestern edge of the forest. We’re pretty far from what you’d call civilization now that there’s so much snow, and until it lets up, we aren’t likely to be going anywhere.”
“We aren’t near Oakwood?”
“No, not at all. Why? I have plenty of rations. We won’t starve.”
If she waited for Alfred to show up, he’d kill Powell. Alfred didn’t want anyone to be near her. With Powell alone, he was vulnerable. “I have to go.” She stood then immediately fell back onto the couch, streaks of white pain shooting up her leg.
She cried out.
“Silly wolf. Why’d you do that?” His hand was under her elbow, guiding her into position on the couch.
“I need to get to Oakwood.”
“Not tonight.”
“But—”
“Sit still. You can’t walk yet, much less to Oakwood. Let me get you some coffee and pain medicine. Then you need to rest.”
She set her mouth in a line and sighed. Staying and waiting for Alfred to come pick her up was not acceptable. She had to be proactive and get away from the cabin, and into Oakwood. The prospect of hiking in the snow wasn’t pleasant, given what had happened already. Still. She needed a plan.
“Where are my boots?” She asked.
She heard the tinkling of silverware and glass. He’d walked away.
“On the floor, but you can’t put them on till that swelling goes down in your ankle.” He bumped around in what she assumed was the kitchen area. “Relax and get some rest. Tomorrow we can call your den. Find someone to come get you if the snow isn’t too deep. If that’s what you want.”
“You haven’t called anyone?” She tucked strands of hair behind her ears, sure his gaze was piercing through her.
“No, I’m sorry. I’ve been busy tending to you.”
The aroma of brewing coffee wafted through the cabin. The cat hopped up beside her and curled against her leg. She stroked his head and scratched under his chin, and he purred. A crack sounded outside, and she whipped her head toward the noise, though she couldn’t see it.
Was it Alfred? Another burst of adrenaline shot through her. She’d run from Alfred until she dropped dead if she had to.
“I need to go.” She gripped the edge of the couch.
Powell was right. She wouldn’t get far in the dark and in a snowstorm. And with a bum foot, it wasn’t likely she’d make it to Oakwood in three days much less one. Staying in the bear’s cabin meant they were all sitting ducks in a game where she was both the target and the prize.
“Not tonight, you don’t. We can talk tomorrow. Tonight, you rest.” He approached her, his footsteps soft on the creaking floorboards. “Here, take these.”
He took her hand, opened her palm, and dropped tablets into it.
“What are they?”
“Ibuprofen. And I’ve got a glass of water. Let me know when you need it.” His voice soothed her, though she didn’t want to be soothed. She wanted to be away. Out. In Oakwood where she could figure out how to get to Florida where her aunt lived or anywhere but Deep Creek. Anywhere away from Alfred.
“How do I know you aren’t lying?” She turned her face toward his voice. He could poison her, and that would be it. Or sedate her to turn her over to the pack.
“I guess you don’t. But I’ve done nothing but help you. Take the medicine and let me get some more wood on this fire. And stop this nonsense about going out in the snow tonight.”
She held her hand out and the cool glass was shoved into it. She popped the pills then chased them with a gulp of water. Then another. Thirsty, she drank the rest then held the glass out. She felt Powell take it from her hand.
She listened to him return to the kitchen area and set the glass down then come back and heft a larger piece of wood onto the fire. Lots of sputtering and popping as the wood hit the flames, and a blaze of heat seared her.
“That ought to last a while.” He sat beside her, but at the other end of the couch. “Coffee will be ready soon. Then we can go to bed.”
Her blindness couldn’t hide her embarrassment. Powell snickered.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“Fine.”
“I can tell you’re anxious. I’ll protect you while you’re in my care. I promise.”
She didn’t respond. What would the bear expect in return for all his kindness?
“You haven’t told me what’s up with the wolves but the howls didn’t sound happy.”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t call them, okay?” She hated the pleading tone to her own voice. Nothing worse than sounding weaker than she already felt.
“If you don’t want me to, I won’t.”
“I don’t.”
Nar meowed from somewhere across the room.
“What does he want?” She turned her head in the direction of the sound.
“He thinks I’m going to let him out in the snow but I’m not.”
“It’s too cold outside for a cat.” She fought to stay awake. Her clothes, now dry and warm, plus the heated air, combined to make the day’s exhaustion set in hard. So much more comfortable than being outside in the cold. She yawned.
“Yes.” He stood. “He can go out when it’s daylight. Are you ready for coffee?”
“No.” She shook her head. “My ankle aches, and every muscle I have and some I didn’t know I had hurt like crazy. A good night’s sleep will help.”
“You didn’t hit your head when you fell?” His voice held the serious question. “No chance of concussion?”
“No, just my ankle. I’m so tired, I want to sleep.”
She heard Powell yawn. “I am too. I agree. Rest tonight, fresh start tomorrow. Hold on.”
Arms slipped under her and before she could protest, he’d swept her up and was carrying her...somewhere. Part of her wanted to lean against him and let him take care of things and part of her wanted to punch him in the nose for being so presumptuous.
Before she could decide, he dropped her on a soft bed.
“The cabin is small, but adequate. This is my bed. There’s a bathroom right here to the immediate left.”
She wasn’t sure what to say. The bear was being super nice to her. All the stories she’d ever heard were about how bad the bears were, with few exceptions. “Thank you,” she managed.
“Lie down.”
She obeyed and the covers settled over her. He tucked her in all the way around, then laid a heavier blanket or a quilt over her. The bed seemed to sink in and the warmth from the blankets soothed her aching muscles. So comfortable.
“I’ll be in the next room if you need anything.” His footsteps retreated. “We’ll deal with everything else in the morning.”
“Okay.”
He paused at the bedroom door and it squeaked as he started to pull it shut. “You realize how lucky you are?”
She nodded. She needed sleep, so much sleep.
“Not much longer out in that weather and you’d not be alive.”
She yawned. “Thank you, again.” She tugged the covers higher around her chin, and the scent of him washed over her, setting her insides jumbling. Of course a bear would give her a stomachache.
“I’m going to feed Nar and turn off the coffeepot.” The door squeaked closed after his whispered words. “Stay put till morning. We’ll get you home.”
She didn’t answer, though. The wind rattled the windowpanes nearby, and she listened as ice crystals pelted the glass.
Thank the gods, she was inside, safe and warm. Even if it was in a cabin somewhere unknown in the forests of Deep Creek. A good night’s sleep would help a lot before she continued her journey.
A howl began, far away then seemingly nearer, its purpose and intent clear. Olivia belonged with the Green Glen wolves. She belonged to Alfred. Unless she found a way to get into town with an injured ankle, she’d need to hide out. Shifter healing had already begun, but she’d messed her ankle up and it would take some time for it to heal enough for her to be on the move again.
She wouldn’t be running the next day unless she had to.
Alfred bayed again, insistent. Persistent. The sound trilled on the wind and through the bare tree branches, which clicked together like secret code in the icy wind.
Olivia...where are you?
My Olivia...