Bear His Love
Midnight Sun Shifters
By
Scarlett Grove
***
Copyright © 2015 Scarlett Grove
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter One
Ginger Allen watched the colorful buildings of Juneau, Alaska come into view from the deck of the cruise ship. Even at this time of year, it was already colder up here than it had been in Seattle. She pulled her thin jacket more tightly around her body and shivered.
The boat pulled into the harbor, and the passengers lined up to disembark. Ginger had traveled up there on a day cruise ship used by tourists, but her reason for coming to Alaska was not for a vacation. She looked down at the new hole in her Converse sneakers and pulled a roll of duct tape out of her backpack. She hastily ripped a square of tape off the role and plastered it over the spot on the heel of her shoe that was coming unglued.
She got in line behind the rest, pulling her backpack up over her shoulders. Slowly, she meandered down the ramp and onto the wide sidewalks of Juneau’s harbor. It was a bright day with a cloudless blue sky overhead. People around her smiled, their eyes twinkling with excitement as they took in the adorable little city.
The chill had got into her bones and wouldn’t seem to go away, even with the warming temperature outside. Ginger had business to attend to--not the kind of business that made you feel warm and fuzzy. It was her last ditch effort to salvage the life that she wanted to believe she could have, a life that now seemed so very far away it was almost like a dream she’d had as a child.
She walked down the streets, lined with little shops and restaurants that smelled of fish and chips, her stomach grumbling. She held the business card of the man who overlooked the property taxes on her father’s remote piece of land. Before he got sick, her father liked to go up to Alaska from Seattle to spend time in his hunting cabin. Before he died, he told Ginger that he had left something there for her--something that could solve all of her problems. But she might not be able to claim it, if she couldn’t get an extension on the tax debt.
The wind picked up and blew Ginger’s red, kinky hair into her face. She brushed it back with both of her hands and tied it into a ponytail at the back of her neck. Inspecting the numbers on the doors of the buildings on the sidewalk, Ginger found the tax office from her business card.
She gripped the door handle and slowly walked inside. The reception area was warmer than it was outside, and she let out a sigh of relief as the heat tried to penetrate deep into her chilled bones. There was a woman behind the reception desk, and Ginger smiled at her, but she was more distracted by the bowl of candy sitting on the desk.
Inconspicuously as possible, she plucked a peppermint from the bowl, unwrapped it, and popped it into her mouth.
“I have an appointment with James Salvo,” she said, the peppermint knocking around against her teeth. “My name is Ginger Allen. I’m here to speak with Mr. Salvo about my late father’s property.”
“Yes of course,” the receptionist said. “Have a seat right there, and I’ll let James know that you’re here.”
Ginger sat down at the reception desk and pulled her cheap flip phone out of her pocket. She didn’t have very many prepaid minutes left and could only make one or two more phone calls before she would no longer have a telephone. At least she’d made it to Alaska. If things didn’t work out as she had hoped, she would be stranded here with no way back to Seattle.
“Mr. Salvo will see you now,” the receptionist said.
Ginger walked around the reception desk and down the hallway to the office that said Mr. James Salvo, Property Tax Manager.”
She opened the door and found a thirty-something-year-old man with a black mustache that looked like it must be intended to be ironic. He wore a red turtleneck shirt and had his hair slicked back with some kind of oil. He looked up at Ginger and motioned for her to have a seat.
“Ms. Allen. I was just looking over your father’s file. It looks as if the taxes are due in seventy-two hours.”
“That’s the reason I came to speak with you today, I was hoping you could give me an extension on the debt. Maybe a week?”
“Unfortunately, there’s no way that I can offer further extension on this tax debt. If it isn’t paid in full in the next seventy-two hours, I’m afraid that this property is going to be auctioned off by the state.”
“All I need is one more week, tops. My father just passed away. Is in there anything that you can do?”
“No, there isn’t. This property has been delinquent for over a year. Not a penny has been paid on the debt, and now that your father has passed away, the state will no longer offer any extensions on the taxes. If you want to inherit this land you have to pay the debt, now.”
“But I can’t pay it today. What am I supposed to do?”
“However you intended to pay in a week, pay it today.”
“Okay,” Ginger said, rising from the chair. She knew she wasn’t going to get anywhere with this guy. She might as well start on Plan B right now, and not waste any further time with James Salvo. “I’ll be back with the money in less than seventy-two hours.”
“Good luck, Ms. Allen, I hope it works out for you,” James Salvo said, not looking up from his computer.
She raised an eyebrow and turned to the door, shaking her head. She hadn’t expected to find a pencil pusher like that in Alaska. She had hoped he would be warmer, kinder, more willing to work with her as a person if she showed up here. Unfortunately, she had been wrong. He seemed to be the worst kind of bureaucrat. Coming to the tax office had been a complete waste of time.
Chapter Two
Ginger wandered down the sunny streets, watching the crowds of happy tourists walk by. The fall colors were overtaking the trees that covered the hillsides beyond the town, but hanging baskets full of flowers still lined the streets of the city.
The overpowering smell of fish and chips made her stomach twist and turn painfully. Needing a place to sit down to check the Yellow Pages, Ginger sat on the outdoor patio of the restaurant making that delicious smell. If only she could afford to buy herself something to eat, she would stuff her face. Ginger had been eating cheap bags of chips and microwave burritos for as long as she could remember.
She asked the waitress for the Yellow Pages, when the woman came to take her order. She ordered a glass of water, and said she needed more time to decide on her meal. Ginger wouldn’t be eating any lunch today. She needed the last of her money to hire a wilderness tracker to get her out to her dad’s cabin. In her haste to make
it to Alaska and speak with James Salvo, she had neglected to contact any wilderness trackers before she left.
Now she would have to find someone in the Yellow Pages and use the last of her phone minutes to contact him. The waitress came back with the Yellow Pages and a glass of water and set in front of Ginger with a smile.
She began flipping through the pages, her stomach gurgling and grumbling loudly in her ears. There were several pages of wilderness trackers, and she didn’t even know where to begin. She had exactly seven minutes left on her prepaid cell phone. That wouldn’t give her nearly enough time to compare prices and finally make a decision on which tracker to hire.
With a heavy sigh, she sat back in her chair and took a sip of the ice water. At least water was free and she could quench her terrible thirst. As she glanced around the patio, her stomach rumbled again so loudly she was sure the other guests could hear it.
Out of the corner of her eye, Ginger spotted a beautiful lady approaching her. The woman was dressed in a designer skirt suit, embroidered stockings, and knee-high high-heeled boots. Her hair was styled in white curls, but she couldn’t have been more than thirty-five years old. Ginger could tell by the smooth skin on her cheeks and the bright glint in her eyes.
The woman was so incredibly stylish and so incredibly striking, that it amazed Ginger that she was even in a place like Alaska. Most of the tourists dressed in outdoorsy clothing, appropriate for a boat tour or a hike through southern Alaskan rain forest. This lady looked like she was ready to walk down the streets of New York during fashion week.
To Ginger surprise, the woman slid right into a chair across the table from her and gave her a bright gleaming smile that showed her perfectly straight teeth. Ginger’s eyes widened.
“Hi?” Ginger said, looking around to check if there were no open tables on the rest of the patio. There were actually plenty of open tables on the rest of the patio, so this woman was sitting next to Ginger because she wanted to be sitting next to her.
“Hello, dear, I’m Babs Bula,” the woman said. “I noticed you sitting here all by yourself, and you hadn’t ordered any lunch yet.” As soon as she finished speaking the waitress appeared again with a basket of fish and chips that she promptly set in front of Ginger. “I ordered you a basket of fish and chips. You simply cannot miss the exquisite fish and chips they prepare at this restaurant.”
“Thanks? I’m Ginger Allen,” Ginger said hesitantly. She wasn’t used to people just randomly buying her food, especially stylish women like this lady.
“What are you looking for in the Yellow Pages, Ginger? I know absolutely everything that’s going on in town. Maybe I can help you find what you need.”
“I need a wilderness tracker who can take me up into the backcountry. But I only have two hundred dollars to pay him, so it has to be somebody who works cheaply.” Ginger dug into the fish and chips, eating greedily. Her stomach seemed to be of bottomless pit, and she didn’t feel like she’d made even the slightest dent until the entire basket was gone.
Babs pressed her perfectly manicured, pink tipped finger to her bottom lip. “Hmm, I think I know just the man for you. In fact I’m sure of it.”
“Really? There’s so many wilderness trackers in here, I don’t even know where to start.”
“The man for you is Brock Montgomery. He runs the Montgomery tracking company and is one of the best wilderness guides in the entire state of Alaska. Not to mention, he’s incredibly handsome, and incredibly eligible.”
Ginger was a little surprised by her comment. She bit her lip and nodded her head. “Okay. Does he work cheaply?”
“I’m sure Brock will make an exception for you, dear,” Babs said, pulling a business card from her designer purse. She handed the business card to Ginger who took it and stared at it blankly.
“What is FGD.com?” Ginger asked.
“FGD stands for my business, Fairy Godmother Dating,” Babs said nonchalantly. “I specialize in matching up burly male shifters and curvy human brides.”
“Are there a lot of shifters in Juneau?” Ginger asked. Shape shifters had made their presence known over sixty-five years ago, and the human populations of the world had come to accept them. Nobody really knew who was a shifter and who wasn’t. The shifters kept that to themselves most of the time, blending in with humans as much as possible. As far as Ginger knew, there had been some issues way back in the nineteen-fifties when the shifters first came out, but at this point everybody was pretty much used to the idea.
“Juneau is simply crawling with shifters. Hot, chiseled, tall, dark, and handsome. They’re everywhere. I help sweet, curvy girls like you find their perfect shifter match. Some might even call it fate.”
“I’m not in the market for a man,” Ginger said, putting her hand up in front of her as warding off something dangerous.
“Of course you’re not. You just need a wilderness tracker. And the wilderness tracker for you is Brock Montgomery.” Babs pointed to the advertisement on the Yellow Pages that said Montgomery Wilderness Guides. “You call that number. Brock will do the rest.”
Babs stood up from the table with a smile, her curly hair bouncing around her shoulders. “What’s the deal with the fairy godmother?” Ginger asked.
“Well dear, that’s me.”
Chapter Three
Brock Montgomery stared into the faces of the people that he’d known his entire life. His mother and father and the rest of the clan elders sat in Montgomery Lodge blinking at Brock. The original Montgomery building on the family’s generational homestead now served as his clan’s meeting hall and a place where his clients could stay when they hired him as a tracker or guide.
The elders of his clan had just delivered the news to him. He would be the new clan leader, the Alpha of the Montgomery bears. It was a position that he knew was coming for a long time. His father was getting up there in years, and wanted to retire as clan leader. Brock’s father and mother wanted to spend more time together in their older years and watch their sons marry and have children.
He knew his mother and father wanted to see him mated and settled down, but he didn’t expect every clan elder to gang up on him on the very day that he became the new leader. Brock said his coffee cup down on the end table beside the couch in the main meeting room of the Lodge and sighed.
“I’ve known I would be clan leader most of my life. As the eldest of Montgomery still living on the Homestead, I knew that it was my duty to take this role.”
“You understand that the shifter council of Juneau expects all clan leaders to be mated?” His mother, Nora Montgomery, said, her bright blue eyes twinkling with some hidden mirth.
“I know the shifter council expects clan leaders to be mated. But it’s not like I have to be mated today, my first day as clan leader.”
“Of course, you can’t possibly find a mate in one day,” his father Clark Montgomery said.
“He should go to Babs Bula, the matchmaker,” said his father’s sister-in-law, Lola. Lola was the mother of his cousins, Shaw and Zane Montgomery. Brock, his two younger brothers, and his two cousins had all been inseparable as children. As they had grown older and gone their own ways, the men had drifted apart, but there was always that bond between them that would never break.
“I’m not going to a matchmaker. Especially not a cagey woman like Babs Bula. What is she anyway? Is she a shifter? A human? I can’t tell. Every time I’ve smelled her scent it confuses the heck out of me,” Brock said, trying to change the subject.
“Maybe she really is a fairy godmother,” Brock’s mother said.
“Right,” Brock said. “And I’m Smokey the Bear.”
Everyone laughed uncomfortably because no one really knew what Babs Bula really was. All anyone knew was that she was incredibly fashionable, cutely curvy, and the owner of a matchmaking agency with an office downtown.
“Are we done here?” Brock asked. He was getting tired of all of the pressure from his parents and his clan. He had already a
ccepted the role as clan leader, but he couldn’t help but feel it had been thrust on him. He’d never really had a choice as to whether or not he would become his clan’s leader. It was a responsibility he didn’t know if he could shoulder.
As clan leader, he was expected to deal with clan disputes, be the godfather of everyone’s children, make sure that his entire clan was provided for and that everyone was getting along. It was a tremendous responsibility for any one man, let alone a man who would rather spend his time alone out in the wilderness. But if it were a choice between Brock, his wild brother Keaton or his sensitive, artistic younger brother Tate, the obvious choice was Brock. That didn’t mean he was happy about it.
He had even asked if either Shaw or Zane could be considered for the position. But Brock was the oldest son of the oldest son of the original Montgomery clan, and the rightful position of leader fell on to him.
“Don’t be so defensive, Brock,” his mother said as the rest of the clan elders began to stand from their seats and make their way towards the exit.
“I’m not being defensive, Mom,” Brock said. “It’s just a lot for me to take in right now. I’m really busy with work. I’m trying to keep the wilderness tracking business afloat. And now I have all of this responsibility as a clan leader. And on the very same day that the elders inform me that I am now the clan leader, you gang up on me to tell me that I need to find a mate ASAP. I admit it’s making me a little grumpy.”
“Finding a mate shouldn’t be something that makes you grumpy. It should be cause for celebration,” his mother said, patting his arm as she moved towards the door. His parents had their own cabin on a private part of the expansive Montgomery homestead. The homestead covered hundreds of acres of land in which each Montgomery had their own parcel. Brock’s own place was within walking distance of the original homestead building that had become the Montgomery Lodge. His parents were around the corner from there. They were all just one big happy family.
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