Ranger Bear (Silvertip Shifters Book 5)

by J. K Harper

  A friend. Marisa frowned. Was that what she was? Did she even know what such a thing was anymore?

  You ain’t got no friends, you common little whore. Words hissed at her on a regular basis as she grew up. Boys like you cuz you spread your legs for all of ’em. Girls pretend to like you, but they just want to get to know your trampy little secrets so they can get close to them boys too. And then they all gonna dump you in the end, because they know you ain’t nothin’ but trash, Marisa Tully. Never have been, never will be any more ‘n that.

  “Marisa?” Abby’s voice. Concerned now.

  Marisa blinked, looked up at Abby. Abby stared at her, smile wiped away, a frown etched in her forehead. Her eyes glowed faintly with her wolf. Marisa’s cat rattled somewhere inside her. Deep inside. Always there, no matter what she did. Breathe.

  “Okay. Yes. I’d like to go with you all.” Her words surprised her even as she said them.

  Abby relaxed, though her look lingered for a moment. Then she shot another stern warning gaze at her mate before she beckoned toward the door. “Come on. You can ride with me and my big bully of a mate over there.”

  “I’m no such thing.” Quentin’s protest was good-natured.

  “Don’t let his mean bully ways get to you.” Abby’s voice began to loosen now with a hint of laughter. “He’s been in charge of running everything since his folks left on their honeymoon last year. You may have noticed all his brothers are more than a handful. He says it’s like trying to herd cats. In other words—”

  “—it’s a task filled with deep frustration and sometimes a blue streak of cussing when they push me bad enough.” Quentin finished Abby’s sentence. “My beautiful mate is right, as always. Sorry, Marisa. I did push you. But I take the safety of the clan very seriously. After what happened at the bridge battle, I’ve been on alert.” His sincere voice dropped softly to Marisa’s ears as he slung an arm around his mate, tugging her through the doorway as she in turn tugged at Marisa’s hand to follow them.

  She regarded his back for a thoughtful moment, though she let Abby pull her along. Like Riley, Quentin didn’t trust her yet. But he trusted his mate, and Abby trusted her. Marisa wasn’t sure why Abby seemed to like her so much. Why she thought of Marisa as a friend. But it felt strangely good.

  Maybe what she needed was just that. A friend.

  8

  Bundled into the truck, Marisa watched the wintry landscape flow by as they drove down into the little town of Deep Hollow. She hadn’t spent much time there and hadn’t been back since the bridge battle. Her chest tightened when she thought about that, but nothing else happened. She didn’t shut it out; she didn’t feel like passing out. She felt…nothing, really. But not in a bad way. Instead, what she felt seemed to be mild anticipation for the evening ahead. Okay, that was cool.

  Abby was right, she was exhausted, but not so much she didn’t feel like being a little social. She actually was looking forward to being around the others after being out in the mountains all night as bad kitty. As usual, she couldn’t remember anything about that. That might be for the best though.

  Abby chatted the whole way there. Although it was casual, Marisa sensed the other woman’s need to keep the mood light.

  She blinked when the truck slowed to a stop and parked. They were on a street in Deep Hollow’s cute little downtown in front of a storefront that smelled good. Really good. Her mouth suddenly watered. Climbing out of the truck behind Abby, she looked at the carved wooden sign above the doorway.

  Uncertainly, she read the name. “We Got Whatchu Want?”

  Abby made a little “mm-hmm” noise in her throat. “They have just about everything you might want to order. Everyone just calls it Whatchu Want. A lot of people around here have a sense of humor. Some of the store names are pretty generic, like the Deep Hollow Market. But some people decided to spice things up. The more you hang out in town, the more you’ll notice it.” Abby didn’t quite look at Marisa as she said that, but Marisa got the point.

  The more she hung out in town implied she would want to spend time here. Which would imply she was still alive. Her face twitched involuntarily, but she felt nothing upset inside. No reaction, no urge to find the strongest shifter around her and beg to be put down. Even bad kitty stayed quiet.

  It was just because she was hungry. That was all.

  Without rising to Abby’s bait, kindly as she probably meant it, Marisa followed Quentin and Abby inside. The place was small but lively. As her eyes quickly adjusted to the light within, she saw booths, barstools along a counter, even a little dance floor off to one side. The scents of hamburgers, hot dogs, steak, pizza, salad, potatoes, and numerous sugary sorts of desserts like pies and cakes instantly hit her sensitive nose. She swallowed hard.

  She knew her cat had hunted yesterday because when she’d woken up in the woods, naked and slightly shivering, she found blood on her chin, her hands, washed down her stomach. And she felt full. But that had been at least twelve hours ago, and she hadn’t had a bite since. One thing shifters needed a lot of was food.

  Sudden loud chaos interrupted her hungry thoughts.

  “Quentin! We saved the big booth over here.” A tall, dark-haired man waved at them from the back corner. Marisa hunted for his name again. He was the Walker brother she’d only met once because he’d been out of town working until just a few days ago. Abby, who had hung back slightly to make sure Marisa made it inside, seemed to sense her internal struggle.

  “Slade. He’s in the middle of the clan, age wise. This time of year isn’t usually fire season, but with the weather being as warm and dry as it has been in a lot of parts of the country the last couple years, he and his crew have been working even into the winters.”

  At Marisa’s quizzical look, Abby added, “He’s a wildland firefighter. The first crew to go in to fight fires on foot, on the ground. They’re called hotshots.” She snorted then, but her tone was affectionate. “Slade definitely thinks he’s a hotshot.”

  “I can hear you, you know! But you can call me a hotshot regardless of my job. I’ve got no need to be shy about my abilities.” Slade wagged his eyebrows at them, drawing a groan from Quentin. This must be a well-rehearsed speech.

  Following Abby to the booth where Jessie and Grant also sat, casting a glance toward the delicious sizzling smells coming from the grill tucked back in the kitchen, Marisa listened as Quentin and Slade started ribbing one another over who was the hottest hotshot on Slade's crew. Before they got to the booth, she finally tentatively ventured the question that had been hanging onto the edges of her mind. “Will the others be here too?”

  Abby gave her a speculative look. “By the others, do you mean the other wild Walker brothers? I’m betting at least Riley will be.”

  Marisa wasn’t sure exactly what she felt when she heard his name out loud. Her cat twined through her mind, sinuous but quiet.

  “If you mean Cortez and Haley,” Abby went on, “I don’t think so. Cortez had a long work day today, and I think he’s still out with clients. Haley is probably working on her deadline.”

  Marisa didn’t reply. Her stomach tightened. Quietly, slowing her steps just before they got to the booth Quentin had already reached and slid into next to his brother, Marisa felt flatness drape itself over her again. Familiar worry. Apparently, she wasn’t free of that quite yet. “Is it really because they’re working? Or is it because they don’t want to see me?” Because I'm the reason the outcasts came to town, she couldn't bring herself to say. Even though it was the truth.

  This time Abby stopped short, turning to face her. Firmly, she shook her head. “Absolutely not. Nothing that happened was your fault. They don’t think that at all. No one here does.”

  Marisa punched out her next words even though they tried to stick in her throat. “How can you be sure it wasn’t my fault?”

  Forehead crinkling with distress, Abby sighed. “Because they were a part of your history that’s done now. The outcasts. Right?” Abby sear
ched her eyes, her wolf starting to glow in her own.

  Marisa stayed silent for a long moment, fighting to stay present as ugly memories swarmed up, threatening to swallow her like they always did. Before she could answer, a bustle of eager voices at the door roared in like a tumbling tidal wave of excitement and chatter.

  “Marisa!”

  She barely had time to turn around before Laney and Finn rushed in, bringing a blast of cold air with them along with the scent of pine trees and fur and wildness. They must have been in their bear shapes not long before they got here. She couldn’t help the usual funny little billow of what might be happiness at seeing them. Such cute kids. Sweet, precious, playful cubs.

  They skidded up to her, both careful not to touch her, and began babbling a million miles a minute. They’d done this, that, and the other at school today, and they’d missed seeing her, and where had she been, and could they maybe sometime this week show her one of their favorite spots on the mountain, their dad said they could, oh, and could they sit next to her to eat?

  They were so excited to see her. It made her catch her breath, made her want to smile, made her almost want to hug them close to her. Almost. But she wasn't quite ready for that. She settled for nodding in answer, which launched another zoom of chatter from them.

  Abby laughed and shushed them. “Give her a second to answer, you two rascals. Where is your father anyway?” Abby’s voice was light, but Marisa could feel her quick glance.

  “He’s coming in a minute,” Finn answered casually. Suddenly distracted by something else in the room, he jabbed his sister in the side. “There’s Willow and Laurel! I’m saying hi.”

  “Ouch! Don’t poke me. Hi, Laurel!”

  With a solemn look, Laney assured Marisa, “We’re just going to go say hi to them; we’ll be right back. Save us seats.”

  Before she could reply, they scampered off toward two girls over in the corner. She caught bear shifter scent from both of them. Their eyes on her were quizzical, but their smiles were friendly enough as they tentatively waved at her before Laney and Finn descended on their booth and the four of them fell into an instant animated conversation.

  Abby laughed as she slipped into the booth next to Quentin and patted the cushion seat next to her. “They’re like little hurricanes. Hard to catch your breath around them.”

  “I love it. They’re so happy, so normal.” The words popped out of Marisa's mouth before she could censor them. She sucked in a breath. How easily it had come out, but no one else at the table seemed to notice.

  Of course. For them, lively, excitable, chattering kids were the norm. Kids just allowed to be kids, to be silly and fun and free and not worried every second they might get slapped, or punched, or kicked.

  No one here was like Marisa. Not a single one of them could understand where she’d come from or how she’d lived.

  She waited for the inevitable little kick of pain, of long-dashed hopes that now existed just as misery, to spring up as usual. But nothing happened. She felt her forehead wrinkle up as she waited for it. Even bad kitty still stayed quiet within her, seeming as expectant and surprised as she was.

  It didn’t hurt. It didn’t bother her. In fact, what she felt was better than that.

  She craved it. What they had. What all these shifters here, the ones who lived up at Silvertip Lodge, the ones who lived down here in Deep Hollow, all seemed to have and take for granted as being their due in life.

  Just simple, easy, regular life. Nothing grander than that, but definitely nothing worse.

  A normal, happy life.

  She wanted to have that too, so strongly it startled her with its intensity.

  “Hey.” A pair of fingers snapped right in front of her face. She shied back, hard. “You sitting down or what?”

  The other brother, Slade, was looking at her like she was a science experiment in danger of blowing up any second. Abby and Quentin also stared at her, Quentin with a resigned sort of quiet and Abby with that gentle concern Marisa was growing to like.

  She liked it because it meant someone cared about her. She’d never had that before in her life.

  Another startlement hit her as she realized something else. She’d gone away for a moment, and they’d noticed it. But she hadn’t actually left in her head. She’d been here. Which meant she hadn’t really gone away. She’d just been thinking, but she’d stayed present. Aware of the right here, right now.

  That was a first. A first ever, since…the thing.

  Abby broke the silence. “Come on, sit next to me. The twins will probably get all wrapped up with the Bain girls. I think Finn has a bit of a crush on Willow, and Laney and Laurel have been best buddies since before they started to crawl.”

  The smells of food rolled over Marisa again. Someone cranked up a goofy old western song on the jukebox, abruptly filling the room with twangy music. Slade and Quentin groaned in unison. Marisa felt something weird happen to her cheeks as she settled into the booth next to Abby. They hurt, sort of.

  “Marisa.” Abby’s voice, lighter than before. “Did I see you almost smile?”

  Was that what it was? She’d nearly forgotten what it felt like.

  “Menu.” Slade pushed a crinkly piece of paper at her. “We’re getting a few baskets of wings and fries to start with. Tradition. Then everything else.”

  “What else do they have?” Marisa peered down at the menu.

  “Well, tell us Whatchu Want and they got it!” Slade busted up into a big laugh, joined by Quentin and then Abby. Playful, silly laughter.

  She felt it again. That funny little stretch over her cheeks.

  “Aha!” Abby crowed. “Another almost smile! See? Being with us is a good thing, Marisa.”

  Marisa let the stretchy feeling stay on her face. Yes. It was a good thing. Her mountain lion was quiet inside her, settled. She wasn’t feeling panicky or claustrophobic like she had yesterday in the barn. The big run had probably helped.

  But it wasn’t just that. It was also being here with these shifters. They were friendly, relaxed, playful. They seemed to like her. They seemed to accept her, even with her past as an outcast.

  They seemed to want her here.

  That was something Marisa had never in her life truly felt. Not being wanted for who she was, at any rate.

  She relaxed more and more as Quentin and Slade goofed around in the booth, as Abby and Jessie chatted comfortably, as little Grant was swept up by those two friends of Riley’s cubs, Willow and Laurel, and smothered in hugs and kisses and giggles by all four of them as they headed over to the small area that was a kid play zone with plastic balls and such.

  She let the mouthwatering smells of anything she wanted to order waft over from the grill and make her belly rumble with anticipation.

  She let the sounds of chatter and laughter and normal, chill shifters and humans around her wash over her in a soothing bubble of sound.

  She surreptitiously tapped her toe a tiny bit to the rhythm of the country song as it still blared out from the jukebox.

  She let herself feel…something. Something, not nothing. Something that seemed to be good.

  Then Slade and Quentin, who appeared much more relaxed and laid back right now than she’d yet seen him, gave each other a look. As if on unspoken cue, they threw back their heads and in unison began bellowing out the words to the song. They knew it perfectly.

  Now it was Abby’s and Jessie’s turn to groan, especially when Jessie’s mate, Shane, strolled over from where he’d deposited more quarters into the jukebox, also bellowing out the words to the old song at the top of his lungs.

  “Uh,” Marisa murmured, staring at the three big, burly bear shifters belting out the old-timey country song without a care in the world. “Does this happen often?”

  Jessie rolled her eyes, although the expression on her face as she watched her mate was indulgent, filled with such a deep wave of love that Marisa felt the weirdest little squeeze somewhere in the middle of her chest. “A
ll the time. This is exactly what they love to do when we get together. And just wait. They haven’t even started drinking yet. Things get totally ridiculous then.”

  “Welcome to the Silvertip clan, Marisa,” Abby added, also shaking her head at her mate where he sat next to her, still roaring out the song with his brother. “Whether they’re brawling or enjoying life, there’s never a dull moment around here.”

  Never a dull moment. But not in a bad way. Not in a scary, unpredictable way. Okay, the bridge battle hadn’t been very fun. But this? This kind of fun and silliness was…wonderful. The outcasts hadn’t been like this at all. Their ideas of fun had usually involved a great deal of not fun for someone else.

  Marisa’s face still hurt from the stretchy feeling that gripped her mouth. But she liked this. A lot. This was comfortable.

  For the first time since being here, she understood what it was like to just be a part of these shifters. To almost be one of them.

  The front door opened again. Still caught in her smile, which she could feel getting bigger and bigger on her face as now Abby and Jessie joined in with the singing, rolling their eyes as they gave in to the goofy high spirits of their mates, Marisa felt herself automatically pulled in the direction of the door.

  Her breath caught in her throat as Riley’s enticing scent and the sight of his big body filled the doorway. He almost unerringly saw his children and went straight to them, nearly getting bowled over as the two jumped up and raced over to fling their arms around him in quick hugs as he dropped a kiss each on top of their heads. She thought maybe very soon they’d be getting too old to allow him to do that anymore in public without squirming away in embarrassment. But for now, they still loved it, and she sensed he was going to take every opportunity to do it he could.