“Dad?” Tara’s voice broke just a little.
“You take your mother out of here for a while. Make her eat. I can’t focus on resting if I’m worried about her blood sugar dropping her to the floor.”
Tara nodded and managed a half smile. Her dad’s eyes were closed again, but the command in his voice helped her gather her wits and pull her mother out of the room. They walked passed the front desk—the nurse buzzed them through the secure sliding door—and into the large waiting room filled with a wide variety of people clumped together in little areas throughout the space.
Owen jumped up from his chair and hurried to them. Her mother broke into sobs and threw her arms around his waist, burying her face in Owen’s flannel shirt. Startled, he stood stiff for half a second before closing his arms around her mother. He met Tara’s gaze and she nodded. She wanted a hug from Owen too, but her mom needed it more right now.
The low hum of the waiting room conversations was better than the beeping machines and overhead speaker calls on the ICU side of the sliding door. There was more positivity on this side. More hope. Mostly because no one over here was staring at their loved one sick in bed.
The tension was still present, palpable just below the surface. But out here there were children smiling and playing blocks on the floor. People were eating with each other and talking about summer plans. Everyone was trying to sneak just a little bit of normal into a not normal situation.
Owen opened an arm and beckoned her forward. She stepped into his side and let him fold her against his body. And he stood there. Not holding them but supporting them, nonetheless. Not saying a word but assuring them he was perfectly fine being the one they needed to cling to. He was so warm and for being such a massive person, he was gentle. So comforting.
Tara let her tears run. She had no idea how long they stood in the back corner of the waiting room. And it didn’t matter. Owen didn’t shift or move or say a single word. His hand stroked along her hair and down her back and then over again. The soothing stroke eventually cut through the overwhelming emotion boiling and churning inside her. The tears stopped. The shallow breathing and sobbing stopped. She twisted a bit and looked up, meeting his warm solemn gaze.
Her mother stopped crying a few moments later. She and Tara both took a step back from Owen and embraced each other.
“I’m so glad you’re here.”
“I would’ve come sooner. I’m sorry.”
“I was worried when you didn’t answer your cell phone.”
“It’s been…crazy. My phone got broken and…” Tara broke off. Her mom didn’t need more problems. “I just haven’t had a chance to get a new one.”
“It’s okay, sweetie. Things happen. You’re here now.” Her mother turned and craned her neck to look up at Owen. “Thank you. For taking care of my daughter. For bringing her here. For letting me cry all over you. I’ve cried so much this week alone in a corner…I just—”
Owen shook his head and stepped closer to Tara’s mother again, pulling her into another hug.
“Anything you need, Henrietta. If it is within my power, I will offer it.”
Tara wiped another tear from her eye and took a deep breath. This man. He was everything she needed. Everything she’d ever wanted. And he was going to be taken from her. Just like her dad. She was going to lose them both and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. It wasn’t fair.
It.
Wasn’t.
Fair.
16
“Sir,” a woman’s voice called softly. “Sir.” Owen jerked awake, surprised that he’d dozed off at all, but they had been at the hospital overnight. When the sunrise had peeked through the window this morning, he’d offered to stay with Tara’s father while the two of them went down to something called a cafeteria to eat. Tara had promised to bring him food, which was good because he didn’t think he’d eaten much yesterday and his stomach was starting to notice. But mostly he wanted them to eat. Neither woman had touched anything more than coffee yesterday.
“Yes,” he said, sitting up in his chair and rubbing his hands over his face and scruffy beard.
“Do you know where Mrs. Jenkins might be? The doctor needs to speak with her.”
“What’s going on?”
“I ah…are you family?”
Owen nodded. “Yes. Tell me what’s wrong. Tara and her mother finally agreed to go down and eat something.”
The nurse paused another few second, then sighed. “The doctor has decided to send Mr. Jenkins home…so he’ll be more comfortable.”
The weight on Owen’s chest lifted. Tara and her mother would be thrilled. Except. This woman didn’t look happy. She looked sad. Like the ‘going home’ was a bad thing.
Owen glanced over at Charlie, Tara’s father, and frowned. The man looked just as pale and as weak as he did yesterday afternoon when they’d arrived. Some of the beeping machines were gone. He’d seen them take them away during the night. Only one medicine bag remained attached to the man, running into his arm through a narrow tube.
“Your medicine can’t fix him?” Owen stood from his chair and the nurse backed up a step. “There has to be something.”
“I…we…”
“Leave her be, young man,” Tara’s father said from his bed. Owen glanced at Charlie and relaxed the tension in his shoulders.
“They are sending you home.”
Charlie nodded. “To die. I know. I may be sick, but I’m not deaf.” He pressed the button on the bedrail and raised himself up so that he was half-way sitting. “Tell the doctor to start processing the papers to get me out of here. I want to be in a wheelchair ready to go before those two get back from breakfast.”
“Yes, sir.” The nurse hurried from the room, leaving Owen alone with Charlie once again.
“You don’t look that old. What is making you sick?”
Charlie quirked an eyebrow and stared at him like people always did when he said something that didn’t make sense on this world. “Cancer. I’ve been in remission for years, but it came back with a vengeance this time. Stage four. All over. There’s nothing to be done. It’s eating me up from the inside out. I’m ready to go home. Ready to be in my own bed again and spend my last days with my wife and daughter.” He waved his hand around the room. “Not cooped up in some smelly noisy hospital with terrible food.”
Owen stood still and didn’t speak. Cancer? He wasn’t sure what that was, but a disease that ate someone from the inside sounded horrible. He’d never heard of such an ailment on Reylea, though most from his old world died from old age or a battle wound. Not many got sick and if they did, they went to the magick-benders to be healed. He couldn’t think of a single person who died from an illness for decades. Not since the Red Plague that had supposedly killed thousands over a hundred years ago.
“You don’t have other healers who could help you?”
Charlie shook his head. “You talk funny. Anyone ever tell you that? You one of those hippy crystal-wearing people?”
“No. I do not wear crystals. Why would someone do that?”
Charlie snorted out a laugh. “Don’t worry about it, doesn’t matter. You love my daughter, don’t you? I could see the way you looked at her.”
“She is my mate.” Owen tensed, realizing he’d used his own terminology, but he couldn’t call her wife. Not yet. Ceremonies had to take place for that to be official in this world.
“Mate, huh? I’d laugh at you again, but you sounded very serious. I’d go so far to say you hold that term in very high respect. Who are you?”
“Owen Di’Brahth. I live in Mystery with my sister, Ava.”
“You’re not from Mystery, though. You only got there a few months ago.” He gave Owen another smile. “My wife wasn’t the only one that noticed you lurking about the store.”
Owen felt warmth rise in his cheeks. Had everyone been able to see how interested he’d been in Tara? He’d thought he’d stayed far enough back to be in the shadows, but acco
rding to everyone who spoke to him, everyone knew.
“My home is a long way from Mystery.”
“North? You from up closer to the Arctic circle?”
“It’s a long story.”
“That you don’t feel you owe the father of the woman you’re calling your mate?”
Owen swallowed and pressed his lips together. What was the right choice here? Did he expose himself to give a dying father the truth? How would Charlie react? Would he call the police? If he did, they’d take him away faster than the Tribe could get to him. Maybe that would be better than the alternative. He didn’t want to die, but he didn’t want to bring unnecessary attention to the tribe in Mystery either. It wasn’t any of their faults that he was aonkan.
He took a step closer to Charlie’s bed and let his bear rise to the surface, just close enough that he knew his eyes flashed with magick.
“What the hell? What are you?” The older man didn’t shrink back. Didn’t act afraid…more curious.
“I am from a different place, but this is my home now. I love your daughter with my whole soul. She is everything to me and I assure you that I will protect and care for her until my dying breath.”
“You look human, but you’re not, are you?”
Owen shook his head slowly.
Charlie lifted an unsteady hand to his mouth and rubbed over the stubble on his chin. “Does Tara know?”
“Yes.”
“Henrietta?”
“No,” Owen said, shaking his head. “Only Tara.”
“Good. Don’t tell Henrietta if you don’t have to. Not sure she’d take it very well. At least not right now.”
“As my boss says, that bridge will be crossed when we come to it.” It was likely he’d never have the chance to tell Henrietta anything.
Charlie chuckled again. “You work down at Leif’s place, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Make sure you take care of them for me, both of them.”
“Why are you talking like that, Charlie?”
Both men turned to face the doorway. Henrietta was standing there. Tara right behind her. How much had she heard? But she didn’t give Owen a second glance. She marched right up to her husband’s bed and shook an accusing finger at him.
“Why are you telling this nice boy to take care of both of us, like you’re not going to be here to do it yourself?” There were tears on her cheeks and her voice cracked on every other word.
Owen looked back at Tara, heartbreak written plainly across her face in every tightly drawn muscle. Her shoulders drooped in defeat. She wasn’t crying…not yet.
He crossed the room and pulled her into his arms. She burrowed into his shirt and clung to him. Her breathing was shallow and sporadic. She was fighting her emotions. Fighting not to cry.
“I’m sorry.” It was all he could think of to whisper. He couldn’t fix her father. He didn’t know anyone who could. Even if a magick-bender could’ve helped, there wasn’t one in Mystery. The one who’d opened their portal had died before she could cross.
* * *
“You get your ass down here, Owen, or I find a new mechanic.”
“Where?”
The older man scoffed across the phone line. “Doesn’t matter. Look, I’ve got to get out to the mine to fix a generator and Troy can’t afford to be without that truck for the sheriff’s office. I need you to get over there and fix it. Today.”
“I’m in Anchorage. It will be several hours before I can get back. We are leaving now.”
“I’ll tell, Troy. Just get there. I’ll have to stay overnight at the damn mine. Last time their generator went out it took me three days. Damn thing is bigger than a house.” The grumbling continued, but Owen couldn’t make out most of the words. Then the line went dead.
He sighed and leaned against the side of his truck.
“Everything, okay?” Tara touched his arm.
“I have to go to work.”
She smiled and nodded. “It’s okay. Life can only be paused for so long. Then it comes rushing back like a river released from a dam.”
“I’ll come by the house and check on you as soon as I can.” He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her close, burying his face in her silky hair, breathing in her scent. He could barely think past his desire to carry her off to a den somewhere and make love to her until neither one of them could move. Instead he just let her go and said, “Be careful.”
“I’ll be with mom and dad at the house. How much trouble could I really get into?”
He wanted to say the wolves wouldn’t care that she wasn’t alone. He wanted to tell her she probably wasn’t safe in her own home. But he had seen a rifle in the house. And he hadn’t scented any wolves around her home while he had been there.
Still.
They’d been gone overnight.
If the wolves were tracking her at all. They would know she was back. And, that he wasn’t with her. More incentive to fix the sheriff’s damn truck that much faster.
“I’ll be over there as soon as I finish.” He kissed her, swallowing the words she tried to reply with. Her body melted into his, pressing those soft supple breasts against his chest. His bear rumbled in his chest and she chuckled against his mouth. The woman wasn’t put off at all by the beast inside him. The thought settled him like nothing else in the world. Not even his sister soothed his soul the way a simple touch or taste of Tara could. His bear didn’t stretch and claw at his conscience to get out and run or hunt. He was content.
If only it could be that easy.
“Go, before I refuse to let you go.”
She chuckled just a little before she pulled away. He watched her walk across the parking lot to where her mother was standing next to an old green truck, waiting. Henrietta waved.
He raised his hand to wave back. Then they were gone and he was left standing next to his truck and the sheriff was waiting for him to come fix their emergency responder vehicle. With a town as small as Mystery, the people depended on being able to call for local help. The nearest hospital was hours away in Fairfield. The next closest was here in Anchorage.
Owen climbed into his truck and got on the road right behind Tara and her parents. The drive north through McKinley Park was scenic and uneventful except for a slight delay across a bridge filled with a small family of moose.
He’d twitched a little with waiting for those tasty looking snacks to finally amble their way out of the way. One roar. That’s all it would’ve taken and those overgrown-deer-shaped-steaks would’ve hightailed it in a second. Had he just been with Tara, he would’ve, but he wasn’t. And there were several other vehicles trailing him up the pass now too. Roaring for an audience was out of the question.
* * *
Four long hours later they were back in Mystery. Owen drove to the station at the center of town and pulled into the parking lot. The station itself wasn’t much bigger than the place he and his sister rented to live in. A plain white single wide with a set of wooden walk-up stairs to the door. The sheriff’s pick-up truck was parked in the front along with an old blazer, also emblazoned with the sheriff’s emblem and a label that read Emergency Responder.
He got out and walked toward the blazer. He could smell the oil leak from his truck. Not good. Something else was wrong too though, there was a singed plastic smell coming from it too.
The door to his right flew open and a tall brunette stepped out, waving to him. He didn’t recognize her, but that didn’t slow her roll at all.
“Hey, you must be Owen. Leif said to look for a truck and a guy that was bigger than normal.”
Owen raised an eyebrow. “He said that?”
“Well, he actually said to look for a guy the size of a fucking grizzly bear.”
Owen snorted out a laugh. That was more Leif’s style. If only he knew how close he was to the truth. “You have an oil leak. And something’s burnt inside the engine.”
It was her turn to tip her head in confusion and stare at him in
silence. “How can you tell? You haven’t even popped the hood, much less looked underneath to see the oil spots.” She continued down the steps. She was wearing boots, jeans, and a big jacket that read Emergency Responder across both arms. A bright yellow patch on the front was in the shape of the Mystery Sheriff’s Office.
“I can smell it.” Owen continued toward the blazer. “Do you have the keys?”
She nodded and tossed a small bundle at him. He caught the key ring and used it to open the driver’s door. Then tossed them back to her. She caught them with one hand and shoved them back into her jacket pocket. He depressed the lever inside the cab that released the hood. Then closed the door and walked to the front of the vehicle.
“I’m Connie Callahan, by the way,” she said, extending her hand. Owen still wasn’t used to the hand-shakes humans insisted on as a way of greeting, especially with females, but he had accepted it as something he couldn’t avoid without coming off very rude.
He shook her hand. “Owen Di’Brahth.”
“Any coincidence your name sounds culturally similar to another couple I just met a recently. Pregnant chick and her husband living out on Doug’s property? Other side of the river.”
He knew where the tribe lived. “Just coincidence.” He replied flatly, hoping she’d drop it. “Don’t know them.”
“Hmm.” She pursed her lips and stared at him while he poked around under the hood of the blazer.
“How long have you worked for the sheriff?” He hoped the question would get her mind tracking away from him and the other Reyleans and back to herself.
“About a month, now. Went down to Anchorage for EMT training then came back. Sheriff has been waiting on me to get back so George could retire.”
“George?”
“He used to run this truck for the town. Now I’m the bandage queen.”
Bandage queen? EMT? He didn’t ask. He really just wanted to finish with this damn truck and get back to Tara. Not stand here and talk to a complete stranger who was staring at him like he had a third eye.
Bearly Hanging On: Soulmate Shifters in Mystery, Alaska Book 3 Page 14