Dark clouds gathered in her soul at the mere thought of such manipulation. If he’d been able to do that, what else had he been capable of? It pained her to think that way. She’d loved him. She’d trusted him. She’d followed him to Quebec over the objections of her family. And she’d been on the run ever since.
Well, running first, then captured, then captive, and now, hiding out in the protection of Grizzly Cove. It had been a hell of a couple of decades.
Still, the niggling doubts plagued her, even as she began to cook a meal to share with Gus. What if the move to Quebec had been part of some nefarious plan to separate her from her Pack? It had certainly worked. Without them to back her up, she’d become easy prey.
And how had her mate found that mage in Quebec who was supposed to teach him in the first place? She hadn’t asked too many questions back in the day, but the lack of information was truly bothering her now. How could her mate have made such a terrible mistake as to sign on as apprentice to a mage who was following an evil path? Wouldn’t he have known that before he agreed to study with the man? And, if he did, what did that mean about his intentions? Had her mate been planning to turn to evil?
Had he mated with her under false pretenses? Had he lured her away from her family, gotten her pregnant, taken her all the way to Quebec and then…what? Had he planned to steal her power like the other mages tried to do? Had he been outsmarted by mages more sneaky than himself?
She hated these suspicions, but she’d had a long time to consider what had happened way back then while she’d been held captive. Why had he never fought for her? Why had she had to flee on her own, so soon after giving birth to Marilee? Why had they waited to hunt her until after the baby was born? Had they wanted Marilee, to subvert her to their evil purposes?
She didn’t want to believe it, but that sickening thought made the most sense. Otherwise, she would’ve been attacked while she was pregnant and even more vulnerable. As it had happened, she’d healed enough to run for it when they came, and she’d been able to find sanctuary for her baby before she was captured, where the evil ones had never found her.
Laura felt something like a knot at the center of her being beginning to tug. It was an uncomfortable sensation, like something coming awake that didn’t want to be disturbed. She didn’t know what it was, but it seemed these thoughts about her mate had started it. It felt like something magical that was blocked, trying to unblock itself. The process felt almost…itchy, even to the point of feeling painful. She didn’t like it. She tried to push the feeling away and succeeded for the most part as she concentrated on preparing the food.
Gus came back in the open door then, stopping her whirling thoughts completely. He had a calming effect on her that really made a difference. Gus held another bag of groceries in one hand, and a box rested on his other arm. The box was filled with flat items standing on end of different sizes, but most were smallish, no bigger than twelve inches in any one direction. Things for her to paint. Her eyes lit up. She couldn’t wait to see what he’d brought.
She barely noticed that the itchy feeling dissipated completely.
Gus kept up a lively conversation all throughout dinner, making Laura laugh at the stories he told her about some of the funnier antics he and the other men of Grizzly Cove had gotten up to as soldiers. He didn’t share anything scary or secret about his missions, but the travel stories were amusing enough. Especially when he told her about the time the entire unit was supposed to travel on camels.
“Even if the camels had never scented a bear in their lives, they certainly knew we were predators. They weren’t going anywhere with us. No, sir,” Gus told her, grinning as he remembered it. “We ended up walking because nothing mechanical could get over that sand, and if we flew in, we’d have ruined the whole mission. My feet hurt for days. I had blisters on top of blisters. All of us did. That sand got everywhere. It was brutal.”
She sympathized, though she’d never seen a desert, herself. The only sand she knew was the wet stuff down by the water. She couldn’t really imagine a place where dry sand blew around like snow in a blizzard. It sounded so foreign.
“Now,” Gus said, getting up to get a sealed envelope out of his jacket pocket. When he returned to the table, he put the envelope down in front of Laura. “This is for doing the murals. Don’t open it now, and don’t try to give it back. It’s only fair. There’s a bit of money in there. Not, probably, the true worth of your work, but it’s what I can afford, right now, while all my ready cash is tied up in this project.”
She hadn’t realized he was strained for cash. That made her feel even worse about accepting all the generosity he’d shown her so far.
“If you need money, you don’t have to give me this. You’ve already been incredibly generous.”
He held up his hands, palms outward, to stop her. “No. Wait. That came out wrong. I meant to say that your art is worth ten times what’s in that envelope, but I don’t have it on hand, right now. I’m not a poor man. I saved up while we were all in the service. But I did sort of sink all my savings into this project, hoping to do some good for the town, and also increase my investment at the same time. That just means I’m a little low on funds until the building starts earning. I definitely want you to have this money. You deserve that, and more.”
She tried to protest again, but he was having none of it. She accepted, in the end, with profuse thanks, but he waved them away. He insisted that the value she had already added to his building was well worth it, and she let the matter drop because she wasn’t all that comfortable with praise. It had been so long since anybody had complimented her, she found she didn’t know how to take it now. She’d have to work on that.
They talked about setting up the shop after dinner, and Gus promised to come by tomorrow afternoon to go over plans for putting out merchandise in the gallery. The opening date was drawing closer, but they still had a little less than two weeks to get everything set. He left her with a kiss on the cheek, and she tried not to feel disappointed.
Once again, she wondered if she’d really been mated all those years ago. If so, then why was she yearning for Gus’s kiss like this? It didn’t make sense.
She put away her questions and dug into the art supplies. First, she wanted to finish the antler piece for Justin. She wanted to repay him for his gift of the antler pieces with the gift of her carving, but she had to finish it first.
Right before she went to sleep that night, she opened the envelope and found two hundred dollars inside. She was rich! She decided, then and there, that tomorrow morning, she would start by paying back some of the folks who had provided food and lodging for her while she’d had no way to repay them. That thought firmly in mind, she slept.
The next morning, after eating breakfast in her own apartment from the groceries Gus had brought the night before, Laura went out on a mission. She was going to pay folks back, but everywhere she went, it was the same story. They wouldn’t let her.
Stunned by the generosity of the townspeople, Laura was on the verge of tears most of the morning. Good tears. Happy tears. Tears of love for the amazing people of Grizzly Cove. Gus wasn’t the only kind heart in this town of former soldiers and the occasional mer. She was fascinated by the way these people interacted with each other, and especially with her.
When she went into the bakery and tried to pay the sisters who owned it back for all the free meals they’d provided for her in the past days, they wouldn’t hear of it. They finally relented and said she could pay for her sandwiches from here on out, but what was done, was done, as far as they were concerned, and there was no debt.
Laura decided she would have to get crafty in order to figure out how to repay these generous souls for their kindness. They seemed to like her art, so she decided she would do pieces for everyone who had helped her. The list was long, but at least now, she had money to buy more paint and supplies. All it would take was a bit of her time to decide on the best thing she could make for each perso
n. She was already brimming with ideas.
When she went back to the gallery to work on the walls after lunch with Marilee, Laura made occasional notes on the single pad of paper she’d found in the back room about the other projects she would make for the people of the town. By the time she finished the mural on the tribe’s wall, as she had come to think of it, she had a long list of projects she would be working on over the next few weeks for everybody. She would be busy, indeed.
Towards quitting time, Gus came into the gallery, carrying a couple of chairs, which he put down against the blank wall.
“These are for the back room,” he said, by way of greeting. “I have a padded stool for out here in the back of my truck. I’ll be right back,” he told her. True to his word, a minute later, he returned with a comfy-looking stool in one hand and a bag in the other. He put the stool behind the counter and laid the bag on top. “I brought pricing paraphernalia. Stickers and pens and things we’ll probably need. I built a drawer in here for this kind of stuff.” He opened the small drawer under the counter and dumped the contents of the bag inside while Laura gasped.
“You’re making a mess,” she told him, laughing as he did.
“Maybe, but it got you to smile, so it was worth it,” he replied, shooting her a wink that melted her knees. He was devastating when he was in a silly mood. When he finished with that, he leaned against the counter and looked at the wall she’d been working on. “That’s really coming along. Is it done now?”
“Can’t you tell?” she asked, grinning.
He came out from behind the counter and stood facing the new mural. “One learns never to rush an artist. As it is, you work really fast. Some people would take a week to do one small corner, and you did the whole thing in a day or two.” He peered at her. “It is finished now, right?”
She nodded. “It’s finished. I’m going to start on the next one tomorrow.”
“Good,” he told her, smiling wide as he returned his gaze to the finished mural, “because this is gorgeous. I can’t wait to see what you do next.” He stepped closer, examining the paint. “Will this be dry by tomorrow?”
“It’s probably dry now. I used acrylic paints. They don’t take long to dry,” she told him.
“You didn’t use the cans?” He looked surprised.
“I did, but only for the big parts,” she clarified. “When nobody in town would take my money to pay them back, I decided to go shopping, and I bought a few tubes of acrylic paint at the shop down the way.”
Gus nodded, a pleased expression on his face. “I figured nobody would take your cash. Glad they didn’t.” He looked over at the counter where her supplies were laid out on a drop cloth. “Still, you shouldn’t have to pay for supplies to decorate this place. That’s my responsibility. What do I owe you?”
“Oh, no,” she said, fending him off with outstretched palms. “You’ve given me enough. I won’t let you reimburse me for a few dabs of paint. Besides, I needed the supplies for my own work anyway. I’m making things to give the folks who helped me when I needed it.”
“You are?” Gus stopped himself. “Of course you are. Honey, you don’t have to. Everyone here helps those who need it. All we expect is that you’ll do the same for someone else someday.”
“I see that, but I want to do a little more. People seem to like what I make, so I thought I’d make some gifts to give the people that have helped me, since they won’t take my money.” She shrugged. This was important to her, and she wouldn’t be talked out of it.
“All right,” Gus said softly. “I won’t argue. But I hope you’re making some things to sell in the shop, as well.”
“When I have time,” she answered quietly, “I will.” She turned back to examine the wall and see if there were any obvious wet spots. “Why does this need to be dry? What do you have in mind?” she asked him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“I thought I’d bring in some of the display furniture and maybe start stocking the back room, tomorrow,” he said. “We could start setting up the merchandise the tribe gave us over the next day or two, if you’re game, but I don’t want to interfere with your painting, and it’s probably best to wait until the area is clear before we bring out the goods. I’d hate to get paint on anything important.”
“That sounds good. I’ll do the smaller mural on the other half of the back wall tomorrow. That’s going to be the one with the giant sequoias. Once that’s dry, the whole back of the shop and this wall will be ready to go. I’m going to do something sea-like in the space by the door. I just have to figure out what we’re putting on that other wall and maybe something around the display window, though there isn’t a lot of room with all the glass. The biggest mural—this one—is done, so the rest will be easier.” She contemplated the wall space on the other side of the counter along the back wall. “You know, I could probably get a good start on this tonight, and that way, I could finish it in the morning, and we could start putting out merchandise on this side of the store tomorrow afternoon. What do you think?” She turned to Gus, enthusiasm making her almost giddy.
“I think you should probably stop for dinner, at some point, but if you really want to, go for it. Still, I don’t want you pushing yourself too hard. It wasn’t that long ago, you were still recovering,” he reminded her gently.
“Honestly, I love painting. I never knew how much I’d enjoy it, but I do. I was just going to go upstairs and work on my carving, anyway, so whether I do this down here or that upstairs, I’d still be up for a while, working on something. This is more important, at the moment, so I should do this first,” she reasoned.
“All right,” Gus reluctantly agreed. “But I’m going to go out and get dinner for you. We can eat upstairs or down here. Whichever you prefer. But we are going to eat.” He gave her a mock stern look, and she nodded solemnly, though she couldn’t help the smile on her face.
Gus came over and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Don’t work too hard. I’ll be back in a couple of hours, okay?”
She nodded again, unable to speak because she was afraid her voice would come out too whispery, betraying how much his kiss—even a chaste one—affected her. She watched him go with longing in every fiber of her being. She wanted to call him back and kiss him properly, but she didn’t dare. He was a holy man, on the shaman’s path, and she was damaged goods. A woman who didn’t even know now whether or not she’d really been mated.
Her world had been rocked by those thoughts, and now, she was a little lost. She needed to figure herself out before she could drag anyone else into the mess that was currently her life. That was her intention, at any rate. She had to be strong and not succumb to the desire that grew stronger every time she saw Gus.
A pang of…something…not good…hit her, and she grabbed for the edge of the counter to steady herself. Something was wrong. She didn’t know what, but something wasn’t right inside her. She shook her head, hoping to clear the haze of red that had come over her vision. She blinked hard, and it finally dissipated. Damn. Whatever this was, it was growing. Slowly, but growing.
Laura had a lot to figure out. But, first, she had a mural to paint. That thought firmly in mind, she began applying paint to the wall where she would put her giant sequoia. And, if she could convince Gus to shift for her, she’d do a portrait of the man, who was at the center of most of her thoughts, in among the trees.
A little over two hours later, Gus returned to the building he’d built on spec to find Laura laying down the base of a new mural. This one was going to the right of the area he’d built for the cash register, and she’d started with the suggestion of massive giant sequoia trees, though the color palette still had a muted feel to it that matched the other work she’d done so far.
She turned when he opened the door to the gallery, and there was a look of welcome on her face that punched him in the gut, in a good way. He’d never had such a strong response to any woman, and he had to wonder what was going on. She’d lost her mate. N
either one of them should be susceptible to this powerful attraction. At least, he didn’t think it should work like that. His inner bear should know that she had lost the love of her life and feel compassion, not just…passion.
It seemed like all the normal rules didn’t apply with Laura, though.
“That was quick,” she told him, still smiling. “Whatever that is, it smells delicious.”
“I was gone over two hours. I was afraid you’d be starving by now.” He hefted the big shopping bag full of food onto the counter.
She laughed. “I guess I got lost in the painting.”
“Where do you want to eat? Down here or upstairs?” he asked, amenable to either location. It was totally up to her.
“Upstairs is probably better. I should stop now, in any case. I want this all to dry thoroughly before I add the next layers.” He wasn’t sure what she meant, but it sounded like she had a definite vision for how her murals would come together. He wouldn’t interfere with that. Her art was too gorgeous to stifle in any way.
“Great. Lead the way, ma’am,” he said, lifting the bag again, and gesturing for her to go first.
“I’ll just bring these brushes with me and wash them out in the kitchen upstairs,” she explained as she took a small bucket he’d put in the box he’d dropped off earlier with supplies. It had a few inches of water in it and several paintbrushes of various sizes sticking out of the top.
He was pleased to see she’d used the things he’d brought. Somehow, it made him feel like a good provider, or something. Weird. His inner bear—usually so at peace with the world and kind of a mystical asshole, sometimes, felt smug. That was new. His bear spirit had never been smug with anyone, but it felt that way now, as if it knew something his human half didn’t, and was secretly amused by it all. Furry jackass, his human mind thought at the other side of his being. The bear just chuckled inside him.
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