Chapter 5

Mattox watched her dress flap in the wind. She ran all the way back to the house and slammed the door. Was she looking toward the barn behind the lace curtains? Not likely. She wouldn't come near him again.

He turned away to his work. He made a big mistake talking to her at all. This whole sickening situation never would have happened if he hadn't said a word to her. Now Riskin thought Mattox was getting mixed up in his relationship with his mate. Nothing could be worse.

He fetched a wheelbarrow and set to work mucking out the tie-ups on the barn floor. He pitched forkfuls of muck into the wheelbarrow and dumped them on the manure pile behind the pigpen. The sun scorched the parched earth outside, and Mattox squinted against the bright light. He wiped his sleeve across his sweaty brow.

He considered taking off his jacket, but discarded the notion. He couldn't relax his vigilance for an instant, especially after this latest attack from Riskin. Maybe he should leave this ranch and fall back on Brody. Brody would never turn him away if he found out what was going on around here.

Mattox couldn't keep living in the same house with these people. Azer and Riskin never went as far as Riskin did today, and the trouble all started with Lyric. What was he thinking, baring his soul to her?

He replayed every nuance of the scene in his mind. Every twitch of her expression told him volumes about the woman hiding inside her hard shell. He followed Riskin's hand down her hip to her thigh. He tasted the sweet flesh of her leg exposed to the daylight. Her skin gleamed pearly white when Riskin pulled up her dress to drive between her hips.

Mattox shook those images out of his head. He couldn't think about her like that. She belonged to another man. She belonged to the man who just attacked him in broad daylight. He didn't want her, anyway. She hated him as much as he hated her. She was tainted goods. She was just as cruel and capricious as that idiot mate of hers.

He couldn't hate her, though. Hadn't she defended him when he refused to defend himself? She risked her own safety to stop Riskin attacking him. She’d never done that before. Those soft, sad eyes spoke volumes to him when he opened himself up to her for the first time.

He had to get away from this place. He had to get away from her. He had to get back to his own Homestead before this whole situation blew up in his face. He couldn't sit across the table from her and listen to her laugh at him. He couldn’t dream about her when she insulted him to his face. He couldn't live in this house when Azer and Riskin escalated their mistreatment to abuse and open attacks. The last thing he needed in life was Riskin getting jealous of him talking to Lyric.

He put up with a lot in six months, but Riskin crossed the line today. He almost forced himself on Lyric. Mattox would have no choice but to pummel him into submission. Only Lyric stopped Mattox from doing it by getting gotten herself out of danger on her own.

Man, she was something else, though. If Mattox ever thought twice about finding a woman for himself, he wouldn't mind a woman like her. Not her, you understand, but a woman like her. He didn't want her. She was poison to him.

He wouldn't mind a woman with her kind of curves. He couldn't stop himself seeing the way her dress slithered over her thighs. He wondered, just like Riskin, if she wore any panties under that dress. Was she hot and wet under there? Did she hunger for someone's fingers discovering how bleeding hot she really was?

He'd like to slip his hand up that dress sometime and find out. He'd like to slip that dress up over her rounded ass and bend her over for his tongue. He'd like to squeeze that beautiful alabaster flesh in his hands and hear her sigh and sob in panting excitement.

He'd never do it with her, though. He'd go home to Farrell Homestead. He wouldn't live at the big house with Star and Brody. He'd build a house for himself down the north side of the Peak so he wouldn't interfere with Brody's authority. He'd meet himself a nice little gal at one of these big Bruin gatherings, and they'd make a nice little home for themselves, all on their own. He'd forget all about Lyric Mackenzie and her screwed up life.

A strange noise intruded on his daydreams. He parked the wheelbarrow and listened, but the sound didn't come back. He stuck his pitchfork into the dirty hay and heaved when he heard it again. This time, he couldn't mistake the sound of a faint voice.

He leaned on his fork and listened. There it was again. It sounded more like a mouse than a person, but it set all his senses on end. That sound screamed Bruin, pure and simple. He trained his ears to locate it. It came steady and uninterrupted now, a high-pitched, constant moaning. Another long moment listening, and he determined it came from the hayloft overhead.

He hadn’t made up his mind an instant before he set his fork against the wall and swung around the corner. A wooden ladder rose from the barn floor to the loft overhead. He handed himself up and stopped under the roof gable to listen again. Yes, that sound definitely came from somewhere up here.

He bent his head one way and then the other. He rolled his boot heels to soften his steps on the hollow floor. The whole place smelled of hay, so he couldn’t use his nose. He didn’t have to. Whatever made that noise kept it up without stopping. It paused just long enough for some person to take a breath before it started up again. He inched forward, one foot in front of the other.

The sound got louder behind stacks of loose hay piled in the loft’s far north end. Mattox held his breath. Every muscle tensed in anticipation of what he would find. Maybe the cat had kittens up here or something. It couldn’t be that, though. That sound grated his nerves. Only a Bruin could make that sound, but he didn’t recognize it. He never heard that sound in his life. What could cause a person to wail and moan so high and mournful like that?

He took the last step around the hay stack and caught his breath. He stared into the darkest recess under the roof gable. He came face to face with the source of that mysterious moan. Something dark and round huddled in the corner. Shadows hid it from view, but that sound came right out of its center, stronger than ever.

Mattox stared at the thing in wonder. What on Earth was it? Should he run for his shotgun? He took a firm grip on himself. Behind the hay smell, the whole loft reeked of Bruin, but not like any Bruin he knew. A rotten stench fouled the air. It emanated from that thing crouched under the roof truss.

Horror and disgust drove him forward the last agonizing steps. He bent over and nudged the thing with his foot. It jumped and yelped in alarm. The thing uncurled a fraction of an inch and collapsed back on itself.

Mattox’s stomach turned at the stench. A horrendous combination of filth and decay stung his sinuses, but he couldn’t back down now. He had to find out what that thing was and get rid of it before he turned his back. He braced himself for one final confrontation and wedged his boot hard against the thing. He gave it a shove and sent it sprawling across the barn floor.

The thing uncurled in one long line of sour grunge and human detritus. It came to rest on its back spread out on the loft floor. The sun slit through the roof boards caught it, and Mattox got a good look at it for the first time. The thing splayed two arms and two legs sideways, and its head lolled first one way and then the other before it lay still. Mattox stared in wide-eyed horror. It was old Rex Mackenzie, Lyric’s father.

Green crust glued Rex’s eyes closed and his mouth sagged open. Alcohol fumes and stale urine stunk up the loft, and stains darkened his pants and the armpits of his shirt. A trail of sticky saliva dribbled into his matted hair.

Mattox wrinkled his nose in nauseated disgust at the sight, but he couldn’t walk away. He couldn’t leave Rex here like this. For one thing, drunken Rex Mackenzie was still Alpha of the Mackenzie tribe. Maybe he wasn’t a very good Alpha and no one wanted him to be. In fact, no one could imagine a worse Alpha if they tried. He threw away countless millions of the ranch’s hard-earned profits on gambling and drink, and he contributed nothing to his family economy.

None of that mattered. He was Alpha, and that was that. As long as he kept the Alpha position, no matter what else he did, Mattox had to help him. Mattox committed to working for the Mackenzie tribe, and that meant Rex.

For another thing, no one knew where Rex was. Everybody thought he must be living under a bridge somewhere, drinking himself to death. No one guessed he was huddled up in the hay loft of his own barn, passed out on the floor.

Mattox’s mind whirled. What should he do and how should he go about doing it? How could he get a grown man out of the hay loft when he couldn’t walk or even open his eyes?

He hesitated to go near this stinking wreck of a Bruin. Every instinct told him to walk away, to tell…who? He couldn’t tell Azer or Riskin. That was absolutely out of the question after the way they treated him, first at the breakfast table and now in this latest encounter with Riskin. That left Lyric and Melody.

No way under the sun would Mattox ever tell either of the girls where or how he found their father. He would rather die. Their faces floated before his eyes, first Lyric and then Melody. Lyric’s sad eyes got even sadder when he imagined telling her what he found. And then what? She would have to come up here and see for herself. She would have to puzzle out how to get her father down that ladder.

Of everyone on the ranch, Melody treated Mattox the most like a human being. He couldn’t break her heart by leaving this to her, either. Whatever happened, Mattox couldn’t go down to the house, tell either girl or both of them their father was dead drunk in the barn loft, and then stand back and wait while they worried about what to do. He couldn’t and he wouldn’t.

That left only one option. He recoiled from touching this piece of discarded Bruin toilet paper, but that’s exactly what he had to do. He knelt down at Rex’s side and laid a hand on the old man’s shoulder. Rex didn’t budge. His shoulder stuck out bony and emaciated under Mattox’s hand. His flesh felt rubbery and dead.

Mattox squeezed that shoulder. Then he shook it and called, “Rex, can you hear me?”

He already knew he wouldn’t get any answer. Rex couldn’t hear a freight train rushing by, much less a friendly voice. Mattox took a deep breath. Whatever else happened, Rex had to get down that ladder. Someone had to carry Rex down that ladder. Mattox already knew he was the strongest man on the place. He stood inches taller than Azer and Riskin and outweighed them both.

He took a closer look at Rex. The old Bruin’s pants hung loose around his bony hips. Every bone poked through his papery skin on his wrists and hands. His face hung loose on his cheek bones. Nothing remained of the Bruin who inherited one of the most prosperous tribes on the Peak.

Mattox’s heart softened. No matter how dirty and stinking this man was, he needed help. He needed his family, and he needed his home. Mattox caught hold of one skinny wrist and hauled Rex up on his scrawny backside. Rex’s head dragged back and then slumped forward to bump his chin on his chest. Mattox pulled again and hoisted him onto his feet.

Mattox bent low and hooked his shoulder into Rex’s midsection. He straightened his legs and swung Rex’s spindly weight onto his shoulder. Mattox held one arm down behind him with Rex’s legs flopping against his chest. He had to get this over with fast before he retched in the hay.

He beat it back to the ladder and turned around to inch backwards onto the first rung. He eased himself down the ladder, one step at a time, with Rex’s frame draped over his shoulder. He touched the floor with a sigh of relief.

At that moment, Rex lurched and knocked Mattox to his knees. He suddenly weighed a ton, and he jerked sideways to crush Mattox to the ground. Mattox came down hard, and Rex’s body pitched across the floor.

Mattox caught hold of Rex in one last ditch effort to break his fall, but he yanked his hand back in surprise when his fingers closed around thick rough fur instead of frail clammy skin. He rolled the other way to get clear, but in half an instant, Rex hit the ground with claws and fangs flying. Mattox barely had time to get his feet under him when he spun around to face the massive snarling bear.

Rex launched himself at Mattox with a deafening bellow. His black lips shivered around his glistening teeth. One mighty paw shot to slash his claws at Mattox’s chest. Mattox leapt backward to escape the blow, but Rex advanced on him in snarling fury.

Mattox never had a chance to think before his instincts took over. He jumped clear, and before his feet hit the ground, he experienced that all-encompassing sensation of his skin falling away like a worn-out jacket. His humanity sloughed off and disappeared to vapor. It left behind the raw, unchained Bruin soul hidden underneath.

Mattox Farrell didn’t shift often. He had enough to deal with back home, with two younger brothers running wild. His mother, Mona, taught Mattox young to keep his claws to himself and mind his manners. Brody and Austin didn’t take correction as well as their older brother. They shifted right and left and reduced the house to tatters whenever they lost their temper or wanted to make a point.

Mattox was a different breed of Bruin. He kept his head, and he kept the bear under wraps. He minded his own business and kept quiet. He made himself a model of decorum and control compared to his brothers. He only shifted under extreme circumstances—like now.

The shaggy bear with the grey muzzle bore down on him. Mattox rose up on his hind legs and thundered his challenge. He raised his hackles along his back so his fur stuck up on end and made him look twice as huge. He drew his head down low between his shoulders and fixed his beady black eyes on the old bear.

Rex stretched his grizzled neck to bellow in Mattox’s face. He curled back his lips to snarl and roar, but no matter what he did, he couldn’t outmatch Mattox in size, weight, or sheer ferocity. Mattox towered over him and drowned out his roars with pure Bruin thunder. He shook the barn with his guttural growl, and when Rex still wouldn’t back down, Mattox snapped his jaws shut and rushed him.

He plowed his shoulder into Rex’s sternum and bowled the old Bruin backward across the floor. Rex slammed down hard on his spine with a hideous yowl. He rolled back and scrambled to get his feet under him, but Mattox pounced on top of him in a second.

Mattox landed with all four feet surrounding Rex’s body. He brought his weight down hard so Rex couldn’t get away. Mattox stretched his jaws to their breaking point and clamped them shut on Rex’s throat.

Rex squeaked in fright, but Mattox never gave him a chance to fight back. He closed his jaws around Rex’s throat to cut off his air. Rex gave one weak struggle before he went limp. His eyes rolled back in his head, his neck bent sideways, and his eyelids fluttered closed.

The moment Rex passed out again, Mattox rolled off. He came up on his knees next to Rex, but the old Bruin shifted back into a man just as fast. He couldn’t keep up the bear fury when he lay unconscious in the dust.

Mattox let out a shaky breath. The bear always taxed his energy more than he realized, but extreme circumstances called for extreme measures. He couldn’t let Rex attack him like that without responding in kind. A Bruin had to give as good as he got to hold up his head on this mountain.

Mattox slipped two fingers into the groove next to Rex’s windpipe. A steady pulse thumped underneath the skin. He never wanted to hurt Rex, just send him back into drunken oblivion where he couldn’t do any harm. Mattox scooped up the fragile man and slung him over his shoulder one more time.