Rescue Bear: Cortez (Silvertip Shifters)

by J. K Harper

  Scrubbing her hands over her face, she shoved away the direction of her thoughts and focused on her irritation. She was still pissed at how he'd brushed off her work ethic like it was nothing. She'd always been a hard worker. Always. And for the past several months she'd been working even harder than ever before, stretching her limits almost to the breaking point, learning something new, doing everything herself because she had to. Frowning at the screen, she stabbed out a few words with the keyboard, but they made no sense. Glaring, she highlighted and deleted them. Great. Now she couldn't even work because she was so mad at that big, galumphing, irreverent jokester of a bear up there, banging around her peaceful sanctuary and breaking her concentration.

  Darned big, loud, nice, good-smelling bear shifter of a man.

  By the time he jogged back down the stairs fifteen minutes later, Haley hadn't written a single word. She was ready to wring his big, distracting neck. Springing up from her chair as he strode to the front door, she marched after him. “You know,” she blurted out to his bristly face, his warm eyes, the overall bigness of him as he turned in surprise toward her, “I don't have time to play while I'm here. That's not why I came here and took this amazing house-sitting opportunity.” Passion exploded through her chest, making the words come faster. Why did she even care what he thought? But she did. “I work really hard! I have to. I have to support myself, I'm my sole support, and I'm building something from the ground up again because I have no choice.”

  He stared at her. Words tumbled and spilled from some place she hadn't realized still ached so much. “This is what I choose to do. It's my choice to work as hard as I do, and I like it. Life isn't all about parties and having fun, Cortez Walker.” She said his whole name for effect as she pointed at him, then popped her fists on her hips, breathing hard, still frowning at him.

  Feeling almost naked like she'd just shared something so deep with this guy, and she didn't even know him.

  He stood still, just looking back at her. Face now expressionless. She waited for a cocky response. Or defensive anger at her sudden crazy girl act. Instead, something so shadowed and troubled dropped over his face that her breathing hitched. “Yeah,” he finally said in a low voice. “Yeah, I do know that. Really well, in fact. Which is why I think having as much fun as we can before we die is so important. Because one day, without any notice, it's all over.”

  Wait, what? Haley's lower lip fell away from her upper one. Oh, shit. She'd said something without knowing, and it had zinged him. But zinged the wrong way. The air between them was heavy and dark, like his voice. Behind her, the grandfather clock quietly ticked.

  “No second chances to have fun, pretty Haley.” His voice got softer, but still just as serious. “This life is your one and only shot, and there are no guarantees how long it will be. So.” He cleared his throat and seemed to shake off the odd flash of darkness. “See you around town, maybe. Hope you get all the work done today that you need to. If that's what you want to do.” A small twist to his lips that passed for a casual good-bye, then he was out the door, gently closing it, his steps quick on the stairs and then gone.

  Gone, just like that. Leaving her with cryptic words. Words that made her suspect Cortez Walker might have just as much of a dark past as she did, one that was just as painful.

  2

  Cortez watched the clients as they stalked away from him, all graceful and panther-y like panthers supposedly were. Fucking panthers, his ass. He quietly snorted so they couldn't hear him. They'd said they were panthers from back east somewhere, nothing at all like the mountain lion shifters who lived here in Colorado. Yeah, whatever. Same damn things, but these two were insistent on being called panthers, like they were some kind of big cat royalty. And he'd pissed the hell out of them this morning by being an hour late. An entire hour. Fuck.

  Quentin would kill him when he found out. Hell, Cortez was angry enough at himself about it. He'd been so late, when here he'd thought he'd be early, even be able to get in a little paperwork before the clients showed. But they'd been waiting for him at the lodge, tapping their feet as they sat by the roaring fire inside the main building, angrily drinking fancy coffees that Abby, Quentin's mate, had made for them. Gratis, of course, since their day had been upended by his being late.

  Cortez the perpetually late, the irresponsible youngest of the family. Your basic screw up, if anyone asked his brothers. Awesome. He'd pasted on his best game face, apologizing and explaining that he'd forgotten he told them 7:30 am, he thought he'd kept it at the usual 8:30 am. But no problem, he'd add an extra hour to their Winter Wonderland Sleigh Adventure (cheesy name, but he was trying to collect customers with every hook he could use since he desperately needed the business) and all would be well. Right?

  Oh, fuck, no. Nope. Too damned bad for him, they had to leave early today to catch their flight out of Durango, which was why they'd set the meet time an hour earlier. So he'd had to cart around pissy, snooty panther shifters all morning, showing them the “secret” spots up on the mountain with the most spectacular views of the snow-covered San Juan mountains sprawling out in every direction, perfect for pictures and snuggling under the blankets in the back of the sleigh while he sat up front, holding the long reins on the horses as they trotted and jingled through the snow.

  Better yet, the horses who pulled the sleigh, Paxton the sweet gray mare and King Lear the grumpy sorrel gelding, who Cortez was sure was perpetually grumpy because he'd only been gelded a few years ago and probably remembered his stallion days with frustrated longing, had today of all days decided they didn't like the smell of big cat shifters. Even more fucking great. They'd been snorting, prancing, eye-rolling snots the entire time, sometimes lunging forward in their harnesses when one of the panthers had screeched with laughter at something the other said. He'd had a hell of a time controlling them while trying to pass off their behavior as high spirits due to the especially cold day.

  Fucking panther shifters. Cortez decided he hated them. They needed to get their stuck-up asses back to Florida or wherever and never come back here again. Not that he could actually say something like that, ever. No, he had to grit his teeth and pull out his Cortez-the-bumbling-good-natured-bear-shifter schtick for these clients. The Silvertip Lodge belonged to his parents. It was one of the premiere shifter-only destinations in the whole country, beloved for its down-homey mountain feel and the fact that it was utterly secure. Shifters could roam around the hundreds of acres in their animal forms all day if they wanted to, and that was a huge draw. So not only would he never do anything to endanger the impressive business his parents had built up over the years from a start of absolute nothing, but his cash flow was close to nonexistent right now.

  And the pissed off panthers hadn't even tipped him. Miserly jerks.

  Fuck his life, sometimes. Fucking fried shit on a shingle. He didn't even know what the hell that meant, but it usually summed up bad moments pretty well. He sighed and rolled his shoulders, trying to shake off the tense irritation. He'd been prone to irritation and snapping for months now. Even though he knew why, it was getting old. Really old.

  The only thing keeping him going at this particular second was the pretty smile and careful, solemn eyes of that Haley girl the other morning, the house-sitter. He'd been so damn taken with her soft skin, her big green eyes, that wild mop of hair gathered into some kind of messy ponytail thing on her head, and her laugh. Her laugh was just so—pretty. So open. He'd spent longer minutes talking to her, teasing her, just to hear her voice. She was super cute. Even with that ridiculous orange bathrobe—orange, for crissakes, but she actually looked good in it—and the enormous fuzzy moose slippers on her feet. He wanted to—kiss her or something. Take her out. Show her around, like he'd offered. And she'd gone and gotten all huffy on him, defending her crazy work hours like they were all she had.

  Cortez could tell her about work hours. About how work wasn't the only thing in life. About how life was about having fun, about enjoying it before it
was over. Fuming, wishing he was having fun right now, he savagely locked the runners on the sleigh before turning to unhook the horses, who were still skittish. Which was ridiculous because they'd been raised up here at the lodge, like all the horses they had, so they'd be used to shifters from birth. Something had crawled up their butts today, and they'd just decided to react to the panthers.

  Damn, he needed to get a handle on his temper today. He could feel his bear rumbling and snorting beneath the surface, driving his anger while also feeding off it. That was no good. Not at all.

  “Hey!” a cheerful voice called out behind him.

  Turning, he saw Abby walking over to him, a steaming mug of something in her hand. “I brought you some hot cocoa. And I tossed a slug of whiskey in it.” Her voice was sympathetic as she handed him the hot drink. “Figured you might need a little pick-me-up after those two.”

  “You mean to give me strength for when Quentin finds out what an asshole I was today.” Cortez took the drink with a grunt as a thank you, forcing out a lopsided grin. Abby was really cool. He had no gripe with her. She was a wolf shifter, from the insular wolf-only Black Mesa pack on the other side of the mountain, but she fit into the Silvertip bear clan like she'd been born to it. She also managed to keep Quentin from getting too riled up when his youngest brother pissed him off. Again.

  Abby gave him another compassionate smile, then reached out to stroke King Lear's neck. The gelding had settled down now, looking like an innocent pussycat who'd never shy at anything.

  Jerk.

  “I'll try to head Quentin off at the pass for you,” Abby said, leaning forward to kiss the gelding's soft red nose before turning to Paxton and gently rubbing behind the mare's ears, which were sweaty and probably itchy from where her headstall had been. “They already left a review on Yowl.” She said it casually, not looking at Cortez, but he heard the careful note in her voice.

  “In the past five minutes? Ah, fucking fried shit on a shingle.” He yanked the straps off of Paxton more forcefully than he needed to. The mare cast him a wounded look. “Sorry,” he muttered at her, which was dumb because she was just a horse, not a shifter. Even so, Cortez liked the horses. He wasn't a horseman, but ever since he'd officially taken over the lodge's sleigh rides in a bid to build up his own brand-new business, he'd spent enough time with them to start really enjoying their mostly quiet, calm equine company.

  Horses couldn't give him shit like everyone else did.

  “And?” He kept untacking, not looking at Abby. Yowl was the shifter app for business reviews, where everyone could review their favorite—or most hated—shifter establishment and let the entire rest of the shifter world know what they thought. Complete with growly faces of their animal avatars for a thumbs down.

  Abby fidgeted, murmuring in Paxton's fuzzy ears as she rubbed them. Cortez chanced a sidelong glance at her. Sensing his gaze, she sighed and shook her head. “Well, they five-starred the lodge. They loved their stay here, and they plan to come back again.”

  “That's good,” Cortez muttered, looking back at what he was doing. If he didn't pay attention, he'd tangle up the long reins and harness as he removed it from the mare's back. Untangling that stuff wasn't something he had time for today.

  “But they weren't as thrilled with the lodge-recommended Tooth 'n Claw Tours. They gave it a snarling panther face.”

  Cortez clenched his jaw. He'd just begun his outdoor tour company last year. He couldn't afford a single bad review.

  “They then proceeded to dismember your good name, with some choice comments about your attitude and tardiness.” Abby gently chucked the mare under her chin, then looked at Cortez with a troubled expression. Her mate Quentin was the lodge manager, in charge while the elder Walkers were gone for the year. She liked Cortez, but her mate was her mate. Plus she worked here at the lodge now, so it was her reputation as well.

  Cortez exploded. “My attitude? My attitude was just fine for those highfalutin panther shifters.” He shoved as much disdain into the word as he could. “I bent over backwards being nice to their snobby asses. No way was my attitude off.” He stomped over to the small tack room inside the barn to put away the harness.

  Abby huffed in agreement. “I believe you, Cortez. I had to cater to their every need for the whole week. They were definitely a pain in the ass, and they're clearly more used to high-end places than a lodge like this.” Her tone was arch.

  Cortez began to protest, but she waved it off. “You know what I mean. The lodge is incredible, but they wanted major upscale pampering and ass-kissing.” She gave a short, wicked little chuckle. “No one here is very good at that.”

  He settled the harness onto its wall hook. “That's for damn sure. We advertise as a great place to come and let your inner animal loose. We don't advertise that we're going to groom it and serve it caviar and bubbly on a silver platter every night at dinner.”

  Abby's own laugh rang out, lightening the mood more. “Definitely not. Anyway. I've got to get back inside, we've got some new guests checking in soon. Hang in there,” she added, smiling at him as he emerged from the tack room with brushes in hand to use on the horses. “You went through something awful, and you're still working your way back.” Her eyes on his were suddenly serious, though her voice was soft. “Quentin knows that. He might yell at you, but then he'll cut you some slack.”

  Cortez heaved a sharp laugh. Abby had taken him under her wing like the big sister he'd never had. She liked to mother him. But he knew better. Quentin would just kick his ass five ways to Sunday.

  “Yeah, right. He won't think I deserve some slack.” Starting with Paxton, he groomed her in small circles on her side with the curry, feeling her relax with a contented sigh under his hand. A small thunk sounded outside the barn as a pile of snow must have slid off one of the pine tree branches in the warming midday sun.

  He could feel Abby's sharp gaze on him as he brushed the mare. “He's not the one who has to cut you the most slack, Cortez. That's on you.” Her voice was firm.

  Ouch. That stung. Surrogate big sister-type truth usually did. He listened to the sound of her footsteps as they crunched away back to the lodge, the drip of melting snow outside the barn, the snuffling sounds as King Lear nosed around for some hay.

  In his head, he suddenly pictured Haley's pretty green eyes, her wild messy hair, the fiery defensiveness that covered up something small and hurting inside. Just like him, though he tended to cover his by going balls-to-the-wall with fun and adventure.

  Cortez felt his bear rumble around inside him, like a dark shadow filled with brooding energy. Fuuuck. This was the darkest secret he carried right now. Sure, on the surface he was lighthearted, fun, living for the moment. And prone to fucking up left, right, and center. But that was because he was at polar opposites with his bear right now.

  His bear was anger. Shame. Rage. Sadness. There was so much darkness inside him, he had to balance it somehow or else he'd go crazy. He couldn't let anyone see the angry bear inside. Not until he got his shit straightened out. If he ever did. Quentin would have his head, and every antsy shifter in town that wanted a good throw down would challenge him to a brawl that would end much worse than they usually did. Cortez had seen it happen with his best friend, Beckett, who was a cranky asshole on the best day. Beckett didn't have much control over his very dominant bear. It was why he pretty much hid out on the mountain, so he wouldn't destroy the town by losing control and rampaging through it as his savage animal with no restraint from his more rational human side.

  Cortez couldn't, wouldn't, let his bear get to that point. Because if someone like pretty little Haley knew about the darkness buried inside him? He'd hurt her somehow. He wouldn't mean to, but he would nonetheless. His bear was on a thin leash right now. She was cute enough, somehow fascinating enough, that he wanted to see her again. But he had to be careful. He could tell she already hurt from something. He wasn't about to add to that.

  Swallowing more swears, shoving it all i
nto his bear's dark threats rumbling deep inside him, Cortez pushed it all away. Stupid panther shifters, angry brothers, a business that might fail before he even got it off the ground. He needed to focus on right now, right here. Just brushing the horses, relaxed and quiet, until his bear subsided and all he was left with was a calm surface. The part of him that just wanted to go out and have a good time and forget about everything else. Especially the worst day of his life, the day that ended with pain and suffering and so much anguish he might explode from it.

  He brushed the horses. Listened to the quiet of the day. Definitely thought about a cute girl with very pretty eyes and a big laugh. Yeah, he wanted to see her again, real bad. But it wouldn't matter anyway. Once she saw him, the real him, fucked up and going nowhere except downward in a spiral of anger and hurt, she'd run like hell.

  No one would blame her for running. Least of all him.

  3

  Haley watched the beautiful winter landscape scroll out alongside the car as it slowly wound its way up the mountain. “It's so pretty here.” She sighed with contentment. “Have you gotten used to how beautiful it is yet?”

  Jessie laughed. “Not for a single second. I grew up in big cities, so any snow we ever got turned all grey and slushy and yucky in about two seconds. This place still blows me away every day.”

  “That sounds like Boston. Grey slush and dreary winter days. But this is just incredible,” Haley murmured. She couldn't drag her gaze away from looking out the window, at the sun-dazzled white snow that lay heavy on the deep green pine boughs, the occasional glimpse of jagged white peaks farther in the distance. Of course she'd seen mountains before. But they were back east mountains, the soft, sloped ones of New Hampshire she'd gone to a few times in high school for a weekend ski adventure with friends. The hills were short, the views were mellow, and while nice enough, overall they had absolutely nothing on the wild, stunning beauty here. When she'd arrived in Colorado the other week, she'd been so bowled over by the seemingly endless mountain ranges, the big peaks, the snow-draped forests that probably stretched on for the length of two eastern states, she'd practically forgotten her own name.