Hannah drove her vehicle slowly, following the rough track to the cabin. On arrival, she lugged her small suitcase out of the back seat and ventured inside.
It certainly had plenty of rustic charm, she told herself, whilst shivering violently, as she closed the door behind her. Before doing anything, she needed to light the fire. Hastily she pushed the logs onto the grate and crumpled up some old newspaper. Flicking the match, she was relieved to see it rapidly come to life, but it would be a while before she’d be able to remove her coat.
Next, she checked the sleeping arrangements. The bed was in the same room, which was a relief. It wasn’t damp, either, but with only a duvet for night time warmth, Hannah thought it would be wise to invest in a sleeping bag, even if it was just for the night.
She checked her map and found a camping supplies store in the center of the town. Hopefully it would still be open, and plus, she was starving and far too tired to cook. It would be dinner for one tonight at the nearest, least touristy looking restaurant.
***
The storefront lights were still glowing when she reached Sterling Outfitters. It was by far the largest and grandest looking store on the street, and Hannah vaguely recalled seeing a few from the same chain in Chicago. She stepped in and was welcomed by a blast of heat and a genuine smile from the rugged looking man behind the counter.
“Can I help you?” he asked as Hannah approached.
“Please. I’m looking for a sleeping bag.”
The door chime rang as a family entered behind Hannah. Two children ran in, followed by their mother.
“Be with you in a sec,” the assistant called to them, and gestured Hannah over to the neatly stacked sleeping bags. “We’ve got pretty much every type. Are you looking for a one man or two man?”
“One man would probably be best, as long as it’s seriously warm.”
The assistant laughed, “You staying at one of Burke’s cabins?”
“How did you guess?”
“My aunt stayed there one winter during my wedding–house was full. She didn’t stop complaining about the cold. The local motel closes over winter till start of June, so sadly there’s nowhere else to stay.”
“It’s okay, charming really, as long as I can keep warm tonight. It’s only for a night.”
The man nodded and pulled down one of the bags, “This is filled with duck down, as well as some Japanese-made synthetic materials. Can’t really go wrong.”
“Perfect,” Hannah smiled gratefully. She was about to say something else, but froze to listen to the sounds of sharp gurgling gasps coming from behind her, followed by silence.
“Jamie, Jamie!” The little boy’s mother rushed over to him, waving her arms about helplessly.
The boy’s eyes were wide open and desperate. His face blossomed bright red and then rapidly started to lose color. Hannah dropped the sleeping bag and was beside him in less than a second.
Chapter four
From his chair in the back office, Colton heard a commotion coming from up front. It almost sounded like the place was being held up—a loud, blood-curdling cry was emanating from a woman, and he rushed to the door anticipating wolf trouble.
He burst into the main store, his primitive bear senses kicking in as his eyes rapidly surveyed the scene. He relaxed at the absence of wolves, and mere presence of one hysterical woman crying over a child. There was also a second woman, who at the moment was standing behind the child executing an efficient Heimlich maneuver. Giving one final thrust, a bright blue object flew through the air and smacked against the glass display case. The child started crying.
“You need to get him to his pediatrician. He may have damaged his airways,” the woman calmly addressed the mother of the child, whilst soothing the crying boy.
“Thank you! Oh, I can’t thank you enough!” The mother took the boy back in her arms.
“Lego,” the woman commented, picking up the bright blue object, “Happens all the time.”
“We can’t get to the doctor. We can’t cross on the ferry in this weather and the flight path’s closed, do you think he’ll be alright until next week?” The tinge of hysteria was edging back up in the woman’s voice.
“Let me have a look,” the red-haired woman turned and addressed the boy, “Will you open wide for me?”
Amidst his sobs, the boy did as he was told.
“He looks okay. Get him to a doctor as soon as you can, though. Is there really no one around here, not even a general practitioner?”
The mother shook her head.
Colton stepped forward to offer his assistance, then halted mid-stride. The mother had moved, clearing his line of vision and now he could clearly see the little boy’s savior.
For Colton, it was as if time stood still. Her hair flowed loosely down her shoulders, thick, deep red with natural golden highlights. Her skin was alabaster white, contrasting strikingly with full pink lips. She was curvy. Beautiful, voluptuous curves that made Colton’s mouth water. Her eyes were a piercing artic blue, and right now they were looking expectantly at Colton, as if waiting for him to speak.
“I have a plane you can use to take your boy to the mainland if you need it.” Colton addressed the mother. He vaguely recognized her; she was fairly new to Port Ursa.
“Thank you, that would be wonderful. It’s really so kind of you…”
“Colton.”
He glanced over at the redhead. She had broken eye contact with him and was now rising to her feet. He wanted to speak to her before she left.
“Jake, will you get the flight charted?” he spoke to the shop clerk, who rapidly ushered the boy and his mother into the back room.
The redhead made her way over to the camping equipment, picking up a sleeping bag that had been dropped. Colton watched her bend down to retrieve it, admiring her thick, curvy ass encased in hip-hugging jeans.
There was something about her, besides her amazing figure, that had his bear wanting to rip out of his skin. Moments ago he had thought it was just the false threat of wolf attack, but now he wasn’t so sure. His bear was screaming to be let loose, his blood bubbling under the surface of his skin. The pounding in his chest grew more insistent, thundering within his ribcage. His muscles became tauter, tensing as they physically prepared for the change his body instinctively knew was coming his way. It took effort for Colton to hold back the transformation—to halt nature’s will as it strived for his metamorphosis.
“Do you work here?” the woman looked up at him.
“Yeah, hi.” Colton moved behind the cash register, “It was amazing what you did back there. Are you a medic of some kind?”
“I’m a doctor, I work in Chicago.” She passed him the sleeping bag, “I’m just visiting.”
“Staying at Burke’s place?”
“I am–hence the sleeping bag.”
Colton nodded. Her smile was distracting, not helping his inability to recall how the cash register worked. They had upgraded the machinery since the days when he’d had to work behind a register, the multiple buttons and scanning codes were alien to Colton.
“You know what? Have it for free. A thank you for saving one of my customers.”
“No, really, I couldn’t. I was just doing what anyone would do, and a kid choking on Lego is nothing, trust me.”
“I insist. How long are you staying for?”
“Just tonight. I’m looking up an old friend.”
Colton wanted to ask who, but restrained himself.
“Not staying to explore?”
“I wish I could. It’s beautiful here.” Moving to leave, the woman smiled blandly at Colton, “Thank you for this. Much appreciated, really.”
“It’s no problem. I’m Colton Sterling, by the way.”
He was racking his brain to come up with some excuse to keep the conversation going. In truth, this wasn’t usually a problem for him. Women were usually happily flocking around him, hanging on to his every word.
“Hannah Cooper. Nice to
meet you.”
It was getting awkward now. The woman, Hannah, clearly wanted to get going. Colton came out from behind the counter to see her out. Holding the door open for her, he got a hit of her scent as she walked past. It almost knocked him to his knees.
He watched her get into the SUV and drive off into town. Colton groaned. He may not have experienced it before, but his instincts categorically knew that the doctor making a one-night appearance in Port Ursa was his. His mate. She also appeared to be completely unaffected by him. Not only was it a blow to his ego, but it was also damn inconvenient. Colton had less than twenty-four hours to make Hannah fall in love with him.
Hannah smiled to herself as she drove around town, looking for a suitable restaurant. It had been a while since she’d laid eyes on such a magnificent specimen of man. That guy had been hot. He’d been about a foot taller than Hannah, a quality she always appreciated, with a huge, broad frame. Even under his thermal hoodie, she’d been able to see a taut, well-defined body, but it was his face that Hannah knew wouldn’t leave her memory for a long time. He wore his dark brown hair a little long so it hung slightly over his forehead, had a defined jawline covered in stubble, and bright green eyes that were shaded by thick lashes. His face was undoubtedly handsome by any standard, but it was his wicked smile that definitely made her girly parts take notice. As she backed into a restaurant parking lot, she caught a glimpse of herself in the rearview mirror and realized she was smirking. Get a grip, lady.
It was nice, she reflected, to know that she was still susceptible to the charms of the opposite sex. It often felt like she’d completely shut herself off from the potential of having any romantic interest in the last four years. Work had come first, and the thought of having her much-needed sleep interrupted by male companionship hadn’t been at all appealing. She just hadn’t had time to entertain the idea of a relationship—not with the kind of time and effort that they required. Laura swore by one-night stands, and they had been appealing during Hannah’s college years, but the longer she’d gone without any intimate contact, the more the idea of sex with a stranger had started to seem like more of a hassle than it was worth.
Until today. She almost wished she were staying longer. If Colton Sterling was single, which she doubted anyhow, he’d be more than welcome to park his boots under her bed tonight.
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RANCHER BEAR SERIES
RANCHER BEAR’S BABY
RANCHER BEAR’S MAIL ORDER MATE
RANCHER BEAR’S SURPRISE PACKAGE
RANCHER BEAR’S SECRET
RANCHER BEAR’S DESIRE
BEARS OF BURDEN SERIES
THORN
WYATT
HUTCH
STERLING
SAM (Coming Soon)
MATT (Coming Soon)
SHIFTERS OF DENVER SERIES
NATHAN: BILLIONAIRE BEAR
BYRON: HEARTBREAKER BEAR
FREE BONUS BOOKS SECTION - STORY DESCRIPTIONS INCLUDED
WEREBEAR’S MAIL ORDER MATE
STORY DESCRIPTION
10 yr. old Chloe loves her dad, but he doesn’t get it. Being the only girl on a working ranch is tough. If she’s ever gonna have a mom, she’ll have to take matters into her own hands—at the computer keyboard, with her dad’s credit card!
Tanner neither wants nor needs a wife. Hell, women flock to the sexy bear shifter. In his opinion, his daughter, and the ranch hands are all the family he needs.
Heather regrets the desperate act of applying to a mail order bride agency, until she receives a heart-warming letter she can’t ignore. Is it insane to marry a man she’s never met, or will it be the fresh start she needs?
Chloe prays that the letter she wrote the pretty lady “from her dad”, will persuade her to give them a chance…. and that her dad doesn’t ground her for life when he finds out!
Chapter one
The building was a brownstone affair; it looked perfectly innocuous from the outside, sitting within the tree-lined street, amidst rows of other replica houses. Heather double-checked the GPS on her mobile, not daring to walk up the stairs to the entrance just yet. The destination was confirmed to be correct, and eyeing the building again she spotted a small silver plaque by the buzzer, indicating that the building wasn’t residential.
Heather couldn’t quite believe that she was actually here. Lately she’d felt like she was having an out of body experience, and that surely she was living someone else’s life and not her own. Up until a month ago, she had been engaged to her boyfriend of three years, living in a beautiful apartment on the Upper East Side, hosting dinner parties and attending charity functions. She’d never stopped to think that her existence as it was might be transient, that the life she had planned for herself could at any moment veer wildly off-course.
Despite the beautiful New York spring day, Heather felt like she was walking around beneath her own black cloud. The stairs up to the brownstone would lead her into the offices of a mail order bride service – the last place on earth Heather would of have imagined herself being just a short month ago.
Taking a deep breath and summoning what little courage she had left, she slowly made her way up to the entrance, ready to meet her future.
Sitting in the well-lit office of an immaculately dressed Mrs. Atkinson, Heather cowered beneath the woman’s searching inspection. She was no doubt taking in Heather’s expensive attire, but also her haphazard appearance, and the dark shadows that rested beneath her eyes.
“And you are how old, Ms. Ayer?” She asked, pen and clipboard out as she filled Heather’s details into a thick form.
“Call me Heather, please. I’m twenty-nine.” Heather smiled at the woman, and tried to look accommodating and warm. Mrs. Atkinson returned the smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“And what is it that you do, Heather?” The woman looked up from her clipboard expectantly. A silence filled the room. Heather hadn’t been gainfully employed for years. Since becoming Bertram’s girlfriend she had dedicated her waking hours to accommodate his business, his weekend schedules, and his country club meetings and events. She had cooked, cleaned and ferried clothes back and forth to the dry cleaners. Under the scrutiny of Atkinson’s glare, she felt embarrassed, but at the time she’d found her role fulfilling – happy in the knowledge that she was making his life easier, and contributing in the small way that she could to his success.
“Well,” Heather hesitated, drawing out the silence, “I am starting my own baking company. It’s in the initial stages, still ironing out the business plan… but Bergdorf Goodman and Bloomingdales have shown great interest. We’re just finalizing the details.”
Mrs. Atkinson finally looked impressed, but Heather wanted the ground to swallow her whole. It had all been a complete fabrication. Worse, a dream. A dream that she had floated past Bertram, who had subsequently told her in no uncertain terms would his wife-to-be work as a baker.
“Well, that sounds lovely. We do like the women on our books to have passions and joy de vivre. What is it exactly that you’re looking for?”
The question elicited another long pause. What did she want? She really just wanted someone to love her as she was without constantly belittling her, or prodding her to change, to become someone else – a sleeker, more finessed version of Heather. It was doubtful that she would find her perfect match through a mail order bride service but, she would happily settle for companionship, she decided. If she wanted passion and romance, she’d read a book.
“I’d really just like a kind man. I don’t care what he does for a living or where he lives. I also…” she paused, and took another breath. This was important. “Well, the truth is, I can’t bear children.” Trying to speak the words without breaking down was
still hard. But it was a fact, and one that Heather had lived with for a while now. The crashing waves of grief that had hit her when she first found out were slowly being reduced to small, daily sorrows that were now a part of her.
“So,” Heather continued, “it would be nice if the man in question had a child, it doesn’t matter how old, or how many. I love children, and it would be nice to be around them.”
Mrs. Atkinson scribbled rapidly on the notepad as she shot Heather a faux-smile of sympathy. Heather tried to return it, but she knew from experience that women who had children, or didn’t want children, never understood the pain of being barren. There were suggestions about IVF treatments, and stories about friends and relatives who did this or that to successfully conceive. Eventually they would run out of things to say, and Heather would end up feeling like a social pariah. Some women that she’d used to circulate with, part of Bertram’s social set, had treated her like she was contagious, as though infertility could be caught.
“Well, many of the men on our books are divorcees or widows, so that is a possibility.” Mrs. Atkinson paused, and sighed. “But, Heather, I must say, we’re unlikely to find you the caliber of man you may have been used to.” She pointedly eyed Heather’s Hermés bag. “Those type of men,” she cleared her throat and shuffled some pages on her desk, “Well, they tend to prefer women who are… let’s say, less curvy. Less, full, perhaps? Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Heather’s cheeks flushed bright crimson. She looked at Mrs. Atkinson’s emaciated figure across the desk, and then looked down at her own full-to-bursting cleavage. She knew exactly what Mrs. Atkinson was trying to say. Despite Heather’s breeding and attractive appearance, the men who ruled Manhattan liked their women looking like polished supermodels. Women who only ate lettuce leaves, had the regulation honey-blonde highlights, and vampish manicures. It was a world that Heather had tried to fit into, ever since she was a young girl. Yo-yo dieting had been a constant companion throughout high school. It was made worse when she met Bertram who’d insisted on buying her a gym membership and a bathroom scale. She had even once tried to dye her deep chestnut brown hair platinum, but her hairdresser had point-blank refused and stormed out in a fury at her request.
Bears of Burden: STERLING Page 12