Ember

by Ophelia Sexton

  "Thanks. And, uh, one more thing." Daniel grimaced, and hesitated, as if trying to choose his words. "Do you whether anyone around here might be hiring? I don't know how long Chris and I are going to stay, but I need a job. I'd like to find a position as a chef—or even a line cook—but honestly, I'm willing to do anything that'll earn me an honest paycheck." His smile turned wry. "And I'm sure that the last thing you need around here is a deadbeat from out of town. Which reminds me—I'd like to stay here for another week, if you have any openings. I'll pay in advance, plus whatever I owe you for last night."

  "You'll do no such thing," Margaret said, indignantly. "You are a family guest, and will stay that way as long as you and your nephew need sanctuary. We Swansons take care of our own, and you became one of us when I granted you sanctuary here."

  She saw genuine shock on Daniel's face.

  He really doesn't understand what sanctuary means, she thought.

  He frowned. "You're being incredibly generous, and I thank you for that." His faint Southern accent had suddenly grown stronger, as if strong emotions made it blossom. "But correct me if I'm wrong—don't the able-bodied adult members of this clan work and earn their own way?"

  Daniel crossed his arms over his chest, which showcased his muscled biceps very nicely.

  Margaret took a moment to admire them, along with his expressed work ethic, before realizing that he'd beaten her at her own game. She shook her head in grudging defeat.

  If he finds a job, maybe he'll decide to stay here permanently, her bear whispered silently.

  "Okay, I can't argue with that logic," she admitted. "It's just that I know you and Chris have just gone through a horrible experience, and I wanted to give you some time to adjust."

  "And I do sure do appreciate that, Margaret." Daniel smiled at her, his green eyes crinkling at the corners, and Margaret liked the way he said her name, as if it were a tasty dish he was savoring.

  She knew he could probably hear how loudly her heart began beating. It's hard to keep secrets around other shifters.

  His smile widened before he straightened up. "Well, I should probably head into town before it gets dark. Do you need anything?"

  Margaret shook her head. "No, but thanks for asking. Let me make a few phone calls while you're gone, and see if any of the businesses around here need a cook. We do have quite a few restaurants."

  Justin's Wildcat Springs Texas BBQ came to mind, as did Dancing Cow Burgers. And then there's the Bearpaw Ridge Medical Center. They have a kitchen to feed their patients, don't they?

  Daniel's smile got even warmer and sexier. "I appreciate that." He turned to leave the kitchen.

  "Wait—" Margaret said. "Where were you working in Albuquerque?"

  "Place called the Desert Bayou," Daniel replied. "My cousin Teddy owns it. It's closed now, and I'm not sure when or if it'll reopen."

  Daniel went upstairs to get his leather jacket, wallet and car keys. He left the house a few minutes later, and Margaret heard the Jeep drive away.

  She finished loading the dishwasher with the last of the glasses.

  The house was very quiet with both of her guests gone. Even the faint sounds of the washing machine in her basement failed to do more than emphasize the stillness that reigned everywhere else in her home. Normally, she liked the silence. She found it restful. But right now, it made her home feel empty.

  On impulse, she reached for her tablet, which was sitting on the counter next to the fridge. She brought up a browser window and typed "Desert Bayou restaurant, Albuquerque" in the search field.

  She stared at the search results in disbelief. There were dozens of mentions of the Desert Bayou and Daniel Langlais on various newspaper and fine dining review websites.

  Albuquerque restaurant Desert Bayou awarded prestigious Michelin Star, read one headline.

  The next search result in the list announced, An interview with Daniel Langlais, the newest star of the Albuquerque fine dining scene.

  And so on. As Margaret scanned the first two pages of search results, certain phrases leaped out at her.

  "...bowled over by the depth and complexity of the flavors in Chef Langlais' take on Cajun cuisine...

  "...The Desert Bayou puts Albuquerque firmly on the gourmet dining map..."

  "Under Executive Chef Langlais' expert guidance, Desert Bayou has quickly shot to the top of our 10-best list of places to eat in the Southwest..."

  She clicked on one of the links at random and an online article from an Albuquerque newspaper, complete with a photo of Daniel in chef's whites, popped up. The headline blared "Meet Albuquerque's Most Eligible Bachelor!"

  She read it, intensely curious to find out more about her unexpected house guest. The article mostly focused on Daniel's cooking and his Michelin star, but did mention that he was a Marine who had served two tours of duty in Afghanistan. It also confirmed that he was single, straight, never married, and his nephew's guardian.

  Margaret blew out a breath. Daniel is a famous chef. And to think I wanted to see if Dancing Cow needed a cook to make their hamburgers and fries! She shook her head in disbelief. Why didn't he tell me? I would have made a fool of myself if I'd suggested it.

  She had already figured out that the tall sabertooth shifter tended towards the modest and self-deprecating. But this was ridiculous. Any other man she knew would have managed to work in a reference to his awards and qualifications somewhere in the conversation.

  Okay, the burger place is out. And Justin's restaurant, good as it is, probably won't work either.

  She could think of only one place within reasonable driving distance of the ranch that might need a chef of Daniel's talents and qualifications.

  Margaret picked up the phone and dialed the number of the Bearpaw Springs Resort's owner. Located on the edge of the Bearpaw Springs National Park, the big century-old hotel had been built around a cluster of the area's famous hot springs. It was a popular destination for weddings and vacationers, and the last time she'd seen him, Eddy had mentioned plans to expand his business.

  Eddy Ornelas picked up the phone on the second ring. "Maggie? Is everything all right?"

  His voice was low and hoarse, and he sounded concerned.

  "Oh, I'm just fine, Eddy," she said, eagerly, "But you would not believe who just asked me about a job! Are you still looking for an executive chef?"

  "I am," he answered gravely. "It's been difficult to lure someone with the right qualifications away from big-city life. Right now, I'm willing to consider anyone who's finished culinary school and has at least a little bit of experience under his or her belt."

  "Well," Margaret asked, excited. "How would you feel about having the chef of a Michelin-starred restaurant come work for you?"

  There was a long, disbelieving silence on the line. "Is this some kind of joke?" Eddy rasped. "Are you making fun of me, Maggie?"

  "Not at all," Margaret said. "Have you heard of Daniel Langlais? Well, he's staying here at the ranch right now. And he's looking for a job."

  Another long pause. "Heard that there was some trouble in one of the shifter communities down south. Didn't know that Chef Langlais was one of 'em. Sabertooth shifter, I mean."

  "He's very nice," Margaret said quickly. "He arrived last night with his nephew in tow, and asked for sanctuary."

  "Sanctuary? Sounds like he's planning to stay a while, then." Eddy fell silent again.

  From their long acquaintance, Margaret knew that Eddy was thinking. She fought down an unreasonable surge of hope that maybe Eddy was right, and Daniel would be staying in Bearpaw Ridge for a nice long while.

  When the silence grew too long to bear, she said, "And he's an ex-Marine, just like you."

  Eddy snorted. "There's no 'ex' when you're a Marine. Once a Marine, always a Marine. We refer to ourselves as 'former enlisted Marines.'"

  He fell silent again, and Margaret tried to wait patiently.

  Finally, Eddy said, "You think that Chef Langlais might be willing to drive over
here tomorrow for an interview? I know it's a Sunday, but I'd like to invite him for lunch and to discuss my plans for expanding the resort's special occasion services."

  "I was hoping you'd say that. I'll ask him as soon as he returns from his errands," Margaret said. "Thank you, Eddy."

  Eddy gave a hoarse chuckle. "Maggie my dear, if things work out, I'll have to thank you."

  Chapter Thirteen – A Shopping Trip

  Daniel's first visit to the town of Bearpaw Ridge was uneventful until someone keeled over right in front of him.

  Following the signs on the highway, Daniel drove north from the ranch until he reached the Bearpaw Ridge exit. From there, he proceeded slowly up Main Street, looking for the drugstore that Margaret had mentioned.

  The town looked a set from one of those old-time movies. Main Street was lined with one- and two-story vintage brick buildings with colorful awnings over doorways and big plate-glass windows. There were large planter baskets of colorful flowers hanging from the antique lamp posts, and many of the second-story windows had planter boxes filled with blooming geraniums and petunias as well. No graffiti on any of the walls, and no litter on the sidewalks or street.

  The side-streets he passed were lined with older homes and tall trees with foliage in various shades of autumn flame—yellow, orange, and a variety of reds. Everything looked well-tended and peaceful.

  If I can't go back to Albuquerque, this might be a good place for Junior to grow up. The thought was strangely appealing.

  Daniel spotted the drugstore about halfway up the street, and found a parking place in front of the store's colorful window display of cosmetics, lotions, and lip balms. No parking lots in sight, but no parking meters, either.

  He emerged from his Jeep and was struck by the twin scents perfuming the air—sweet spices and warm bread from the bakery he had driven past a minute ago, combined with the scents of fragrant woodsmoke and roasting meat coming from the Wildcat Springs Texas BBQ restaurant across the street from the bakery. His mouth began to water despite Margaret's generous lunch, and he decided that he'd stop in at the bakery and buy a box of pastries before returning to the ranch.

  If his experiences with Chris were anything to go by, nothing would go stale with that mob of hungry shifter kids running around the ranch.

  Maybe I should pick up some flowers or truffles or something for Margaret. Or ask her out to dinner.

  He wanted to do something nice for her. His arousal had quickly subsided after Chris and his pack of new friends invaded the house, but the sensation of her soft curves pressed against him still lingered, as did her intriguing, slightly musky scent.

  And her mouth—holy shit. Kissing her had been so sweet and unexpectedly hot that he couldn't stop thinking about what it would feel like to make love to her.

  Then the guilt set in. At least four members of Daniel's pride were dead, murdered by Messerzahn and his goons, and the rest of the pride members had been driven out of Albuquerque because Daniel hadn't stepped up to take care of business when Pete and the rest of the pride's leadership were sent to prison.

  You knew something like this would happen eventually, he castigated himself. And you kept your head down and buried yourself in work like a fucking coward. Now here you are, all safe and sound with a roof over your head, and you're trying to figure out how to ask Margaret out on a date. What about everyone else?

  Another part of him protested. Why was it up to me to save our pride? Why didn't someone else step up?

  It wasn't enough to drown the bitter taste of failure in the back of his throat.

  What's done is done. My job now is to make sure that Junior stays safe. Daniel growled silently and went into the brightly-lit drugstore, which smelled of a dizzying variety of perfumes and lotions.

  The young woman working at the drugstore's single register was in her early thirties. She was blonde with a cute figure and friendly smile...and he caught the scent of wolf, even with all of the competing odors in the store. Her name badge read "Nikki."

  She looked him up and down with obvious appreciation, and her smile widened.

  "So, are you a fisherman or a hunter?" she asked as she rang up his purchases.

  "Neither," he said, pulling out his credit card to pay. "I'm just visiting."

  "Oh yeah?" she said, with an inquiring tilt of her head. "Where are you staying?"

  "At the Grizzly Creek Ranch."

  "Ooh, the Swansons!" Nikki said instantly. "My cousin Mary—she's the chief of police—is married to Tyler Swanson. Which of the family are you staying with?"

  She sure asks a lot of questions, thought Daniel. But coming from Nikki, it felt like genuine curiosity rather than a hostile interrogation. "Margaret. She's got a lovely house." He stuck out his hand. "I'm Daniel, by the way."

  Nikki shook his hand with a firm grip. "I'm Nikki Blackpaw. Welcome to Bearpaw Ridge."

  Daniel looked around the store to check if there were any Ordinaries close enough to eavesdrop. But he and Nikki were alone. "Pardon me for asking, but are there a lot of non-bear shifters in this town? I'd heard that this was bear territory."

  Nikki grimaced. "It's wolf territory, too. My great-great-grandparents settled in this area about the same time as the Swansons and Einarssons." She sounded a bit exasperated, as if this was an old dispute. "But yeah, this town is mostly shifters. We've got all kinds here...mostly bears and wolves, but coyote, jaguar, mountain lion, and eagle, too." She leaned forward, and her voice dropped. "We've even got sabertooth shifters here."

  "So I've heard," Daniel agreed dryly.

  Someone—an Ordinary, from the dense cloud of perfumed fabric softener that swirled around her, something that would drive a shifter insane if exposed to it for more than a few minutes—pulled open the door and entered the store. The breeze wafted his scent toward Nikki, and her eyes widened. He could see that she was dying to ask him, but couldn't because of the presence of an Ordinary.

  Daniel winked at her and gave her a slight nod before bending to sign the screen on the credit card machine.

  "Have you met Justin Long?" she asked, instead. "Or eaten at his restaurant? His smoked brisket is to die for."

  "Not yet," Daniel said, "but I could smell his smoker going when I was outside. Made me start thinking about dinner, that's for sure."

  "You won't be sorry," Nikki said. "And you can get everything on the menu to go."

  "I may have to stop in sometime soon," Daniel said. "I'm originally from the South and I love good barbecue."

  Nikki handed him his receipt and a bag with his purchases. "I hope you enjoy your stay in Bearpaw Ridge, Daniel."

  "Thank you," he replied. "It seems like a really nice place."

  Her smile returned. "Let me know if you want to go out for coffee sometime."

  Daniel blinked, surprised by his cat's instant opposition to the friendly offer. "Uh, thanks. But I'm probably going to be pretty busy while I'm here."

  It wasn't a lie, not really. He fully intended to start working as soon as he found a job. But the truth of the matter was...he didn't want to go out on a date with anyone except Margaret Swanson right now.

  Nikki's face fell momentarily, but she regained her smile. "I'll see you around then. Have a good one."

  He encountered a similar line of friendly questioning—though without the invitation to a coffee date—at his next stop, Wallace's Ranch & Home Supply.

  As Margaret had promised, the store carried a wide assortment of items. He found a parka for Chris, as well as a few other things that he and his nephew would need if they stayed in Idaho over the winter.

  The Wallace's cashier was an older woman named Barbara. She had cobalt-blue hair in a stylish bob, matching blue-rimmed eyeglasses, and bright pink lipstick that accented a warm smile. After answering the questions about where he was from, where he was staying, and whether he was in town for hunting or fishing, Daniel asked, "Since it looks like I might be staying in town for a while, have you heard of any businesses arou
nd here that might be hiring a chef or even just a line cook?"

  It had been years since Daniel had worked the line, but right now, he was willing to take any work that might come his way.

  Her brows went up and her mouth stretched into a brilliant grin. "You're a cook? I just love a man who can cook!"

  Daniel braced himself for another invitation to coffee, but Barbara continued, "I knew my husband was The One when he cooked for me on our second date. We've been married thirty-five years now, and he still makes me breakfast every morning and dinner every night." She sighed happily. "I swear I'm the luckiest woman alive."