by Bianca James
“Something you want to share?” he called up at her from below.
“Not really. You go and enjoy chasing little jackrabbits through the woods, Mr. Brawn. I’m still the brains in this outfit, right?”
THE END
Bear Justice
(Big Bear Mountain Book Two)
Chapter 1
The horse snorted and whinnied in a shrill protest as it fought to free itself from the mud that threatened to suck it into a cold, wet grave. The colt’s eyes were white with fear as it strained to free itself, each attempt causing it to sink further into the mud pool. Breathing erratically, it began to throw its head from side to side and thrash wildly in sheer desperation, as flight and fight responses fought for dominance.
Baring its teeth, it lashed out as Jack Raven tried to calm the frightened animal before it sunk too deep to be saved.
“I don’t remember this being in the damn induction manual,” he said to nobody in particular. If he’d know animal rescue was part of the job, he’d have reconsidered. No wonder he was the only applicant for the job. Apparently, nobody else wanted it. Now he could see why. He missed the action. The rush of an all or nothing firefight one day and a covert, undercover mission the next. Never a dull moment in the service, that’s for sure. But, he had to remind himself that he’d been forced to give it all up and settle for a job that nobody seemed to want, in the middle of nowhere. And like the good soldier he was, he adapted.
Or at least he tried to. “Easy boy,” he said in a grating tone that seemed to unsettle the horse even more. “Come on now, work with me. This is just as hard for me, you know.”
With ears pinned back and teeth bared, the colt shook its head, disagreeing vehemently as Jack tried to throw a makeshift lasso over the horses head.
Jack didn’t know much about horses, which was quite clear, but he knew that they were prey animals and the fearful behavior was to be expected of an animal that spent every waking moment being a potential meal for any hungry mountain lion or even the occasional bear.
Of course …
Suddenly, Jack realized that the horse could sense the bear that lurked within him, even though he was shifted to his human form. Obviously, that left him in a bit of a pickle. How was he going to get the horse to trust him enough to rescue him if the horse went crazy each time he got close?
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” a voice scolded from behind him.
Jack turned and looked up the slope toward the road. The sun was in his eyes but he made out the silhouette of a tall, curvaceous woman with her hands on her hips. Her body language reprimanded him just as much as the admonishment in her tone.
“I’m trying to get this stupid horse out of the mud, as you can obviously see for yourself.” Jack wasn’t going to be spoken to like a naughty schoolboy.
The woman made a disdainful snorting sound. “You’re trying to kill it, that’s what you’re trying to do. You couldn’t make it thrash around any more if you tried. That poor colt isn’t the stupid one.”
Jack didn’t know what to say to that. Not even his old drill sergeant ever dared called him stupid. He called him a lot of things but never stupid. His fist tightened around the coil of rope he had been vainly trying to use to pull the horse to safety. He watched the woman hesitate on the edge of the road before beginning a determined ascent down the treacherously steep slope.
“Watch your …” He thought better of it and clammed up. She wasn’t his problem, after all.
Within seconds, her careless stomping over the loose soil had started a small landslide and her feet flew out from under her. She landed on her butt with a soft thud and began to slide on a bumpy carpet of dirt and rocks, all the way to the edge of the mud pool. Right at Jack’s feet.
Trying his best not to laugh aloud, Jack wiped his palm on his uniform and held his hand out to help the interfering stranger to her feet. Although he didn’t make a sound, his laughter reached his storm blue eyes. She took one look at his face, then his offered hand and blew out a sharp breath before struggling to her feet, unaided. Without even looking at Jack, she dusted herself off, pushed past him and began to talk to the trapped colt in a calm, soothing tone.
“Whoa. Whoa. There … there,” she soothed, showing the frightened horse her hand before stroking it gently on the neck. “Let’s see if I can’t get you out of this mess, shall we.”
Brusquely snapping her fingers, like she was ordering a servant, the woman pointed impatiently to the rope Jack still gripped firmly in his large, calloused hand. “Don’t just stand there like a fool. Hand me the rope, dammit.”
Two tours in hellish places he was forbidden to even talk about and this was the respect he’d earned for his trouble? The hardened combat veteran made ready to stand his ground but his hand betrayed him. As if guided by the steely glare from the stranger he silently handed her the rope.
“We need to get him out of here before he starts cramping up. There’s no telling how much damage you’ve done leaving him in the freezing mud.” Carefully, she slipped the rope around the heaving chest of the panicked horse, tying it off so that the end of the rope passed between the front legs and up onto the bank.
Then she made her way to the edge of the mud pool, picked up the rope and began to wrap it around her hand several times.
“OK, I’ll pull. You push,” she commanded.
Jack’s gaze ran down to the military creases in his pristine uniform pants and his highly polished, spotless boots, then across to the foul bog that had ensnared the young, unsuspecting horse. He started to make eye contact with the woman but his eyes were drawn to the terrified animal with the huge, pleading eyes. He felt his bear stir deep within. He wasn’t sure if it was his close proximity to an easy lunch or if the low rumble was one of sympathy for a kindred spirit.
A determined expression crossed his face as he rolled up his sleeves, revealing his well-muscled and tanned forearms and stepped into the putrid mud and placed his hands on the flank of the shivering colt. The muscles and tendons in his arms rippled like steel cables as he readied himself to push the horse’s rear.
“OK, on three,” he ordered, determined to regain some of the male that been savagely eroded by the strange woman during their brief but bizarre encounter. He wasn’t going to be ordered around by Herr Kommandant one second longer.
“One … two …”
Then it all happened at once.
She started pulling the rope like a crazy woman. The horse started to buck and thrash its way toward the bank. Jack tried to push but lost his footing in the slippery ooze.
Before he knew it, the horse was no longer there to support him and he belly flopped into the stinking, festering mud pond while the horse scampered to safety and the waiting embrace of the female horse whisperer.
Struggling to stand upright, Jack fumed at himself for letting some bossy woman get the better of him and landing him face first in a goddamn mud hole!
Sloshing his way to the bank, Jack shook with barely contained anger. Something he had worked hard at from the time he started basic training. He’d always been a hot headed young man and his temper got him into a lot of trouble as a new recruit. You act first and think last, his training officer would yell at him. Time and time again. Jack was a very reactive kind of guy and more often than not, there wasn’t much time for ‘thinking’. Not when lives were at stake.
“I thought I said on three,” he yelled as he reached dry land, water sloshing from the cuffs of his trousers and over his mud encrusted boots.
“Who died and made you the boss of everybody?” she countered, clearly not intimidated by his sheriff’s uniform nor the once gleaming metal star pinned above his shirt pocket.
Deep down, he screamed with rage at the audacity of the stupid, arrogant woman, but the words caught in his throat. He looked at her properly for the first time and his bear caught her scent.
His mouth fell open. His eyes grew wide. His inner bear growled and stirred in a
way it hadn’t done since … well, ever.
Chapter 2
The thought that someone could even think that they could pull a trapped horse out of a bog by using a rope around its neck amazed her.
Of all the stupid ideas! What was he thinking? Was he even thinking at all? She very much doubted it.
Cassie Hunter’s plans to arrive on Big Bear Mountain discreetly and without drawing attention to herself had been well and truly scuttled by the rude and arrogant cop. So much for keeping a low profile and blending in. Maybe she wasn’t cut out for the whole Private Investigator thing. Maybe people were right to laugh at her when she told them she was going to start working undercover assignments to keep her struggling business afloat.
With your people skills?
Seriously? You think you’ve got the right personality for that kind of work?
She’d heard it all before and she was determined to make it work. To show them they were wrong. To prove to them and herself that she could do it. She was determined to make it in the PI business. It meant everything to her.
But she had little patience for fools and this man was clearly a 24 carat asshat. Maybe that was a good thing, though, given the nature of her undercover assignment. She reasoned that if he’d been able to rise to such a position of authority, then the locals should be a pushover. That made her job so much easier.
On the long, glacially slow drive up the never ending mountain switchbacks, she had plenty of time to review the client file in her head and refine her plan.
Cassie had recently inherited a small cabin and a few acres of forest from her grandmother, who’d lived her whole life on Big Bear Mountain. The original will left the entire estate to Cassie, the only surviving relative. But her grandmother had written a codicil that amended her original will just months before her death. Before she could inherit any part of the estate, Cassie had to live in the cabin for 90 days without revealing to anyone in the local community that she was a private investigator.
The only concession made was that a generous weekly allowance be paid to Cassie during that time from a life insurance policy taken out shortly before her death. It was as if her grandmother knew of her financial problems, although the two of them never spoke of such matters. Grandmother was a bit old fashioned that way and she regarded such discussions as unseemly. Yet, somehow, she knew that Cassie needed help and ironically, after her death she became Cassie’s number one client, giving her business a much needed injection of cash.
However, the timing of the codicil amending the will and her grandmother’s death did not escape Cassie’s attention, after all, it was her job to be suspicious. She was sure it was nothing more than a coincidence and soon dismissed her initial misgivings as nothing more than paranoia. After all, why would anyone want to harm a sweet old lady living a quiet, peaceful life in her high mountain hideaway?
Chapter 3
Jack couldn’t believe his eyes. A plus sized girl with curves in all the right places, just as he liked them. Not that he’d seen one like her before. Despite her stern and reprimanding demeanor, he could see the intelligence and caring nature that hid behind her mesmerizing emerald green eyes.
His bear could hardly contain itself at the heady aroma of his potential mate. It growled inside Jack, eager for him to shift and let him sniff her as only a Grizzly Bear can.
Easy big fella. Jack tried to calm his bear.
And she cared for animals, too. That had to be a good thing, right? If she liked animals, then maybe she’d be tolerant of him being a —
“Well, are you just going to gawk or have you lost your tongue as well as your mind?”
“Sheriff Raven. Jack Raven.” That’s all he could manage. Later he’d probably kick himself in the ass for not thinking of some smart comeback or other. He couldn’t even offer his hand for her to shake. Slime and some kind of primordial ooze hung from his fingertips and wobbled disgustingly when he began to extend his arm.
“Hunter. Cassie Hunter.” Was all she said in reply as she screwed up her nose at the sight of his hands.
“Haven’t seen you here before,” he observed, then waited for her to elaborate.
She didn’t.
“We don’t get too many visitors to these parts,” he explained. “Mainly hikers and you don’t look like you’re … well, dressed for hiking,” he added quickly.
“Do I even look like a hiker?” She looked down at her curves as she spoke. “I’ll be staying here for a few months. Kind of a sabbatical. Staying at the Larsen place.” She made it clear that she wasn’t going to give away any more information than she had to.
“Ruth Larsen’s old place?” he quizzed. “I heard she left it to a granddaughter who lives somewhere in the city.”
“I’m her granddaughter and I’m quite clearly not in the city. I’m freezing my tits off, soaking wet and trying to save a poor horse from certain death at the hands of an incompetent Sheriff.”
“Well, when you put it like that, it’s been such a pleasure meeting you, too.” Yeah, that’s more like it. Show her you can dish it out, too.
“If the mud didn’t drown the poor animal, you surely would have scared it to death. I’ve never seen a horse so afraid,” she added, ignoring his snide retort.
There’s a reason for that. But she’s never going to find out for herself. City girls and shifters don’t mix. Not that a woman like you would give a guy like me a chance to get friendly enough to explain, anyway, he thought as he heaved a sigh of resignation.
“Since when did a city girl become such an expert with horses?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I spent a lot of time with horses when I was younger.”
Great, a trust fund baby with her very own pony collection. Just what we need around here.
“I worked my way through college mucking out stalls at five in the morning for a race horse trainer who ran a stable near campus,” she explained as if he’d spoken out loud.
“Do you know where the Larsen place is? Can you get there alright?” The last thing Jack needed right now was to mount a search and rescue when she went missing on some unmapped back road or fire break.
“I’ve got directions from her lawyer. I’m sure I’ll be fine between that and the GPS,” she said, dismissing his unspoken offer to direct her. “But thanks, anyway,” she declared, reluctantly. There was no percentage in making enemies at this early of the investigation. Especially given that she didn’t even know what the investigation was about or if there even was anything to investigate.
Perhaps she was nothing more than a pawn in a crazy old lady’s game and nothing more.
She looked at Jack with fresh eyes. No longer wanting to antagonize him as was her habit with men in authority. Actually, men in general, when it came right down to it.
Even soaking wet with bilious brown snakes of gelatinous sludge all over him, he looked a fine specimen. His wet uniform clung to his torso, revealing muscle definition that suggested a man who either hit the gym a lot or a man whose body had been forged and tempered through hard work or dedicated training in some discipline or other. Her money was on the later. His physique was too lean and purposeful to have been sculpted in a gym.
The thickness of his forearms and the ropey muscle striations that bulged each time he balled his fists in frustration at her remarks hinted at the strength they commanded. He stood over six feet tall and she could see that he wore a shirt a few a sizes too big in order to accommodate his impossibly broad and powerful shoulders and chest. He was one robust and powerful unit, but she wasn’t going to swoon over him like a love-struck schoolgirl. Her days of swooning over men were well behind her and there wasn’t room in her life for a career as a PI and any kind of romantic relationship.
Right now, she had a job to do and though she had no idea what that entailed, she had an unshakeable feeling that it was, somehow, going to involve Sheriff Jack Raven. Of that, she was quite certain.
Chapter 4
O
ne year earlier.
Acrid smoke billowed from the heavily modified Suburban as flames licked urgently from the damaged engine bay. Two IED’s had exploded either side of the vehicle, shredding the tires and shattering the bullet-proof windows into a crazed spider web. If not for the ballistic steel plate and Kevlar panels beneath the civilian skin of the heavily modified and armored SUV, both occupants would have died instantly.
Even as the ringing in Sergeant Jack Raven’s ears began to fade, a familiar pop-pop-pop of enemy fire pinging against the armor plate, like deadly hail on a tin roof, confirmed his worst fears. They’d been ambushed. If it had been a random, opportunistic attack, he would have driven on the run-flat inserts that had been fitted to the wheels for just such an emergency. But there was nowhere to run. No backup. Surrounded on all sides by an enemy that held the higher ground. Their chances of making it through were slim to none.
If he were alone, he might have been able to shift into his bear form and make a dash for cover. Even if he caught a few stray rounds, he’d survive and the wounds would heal almost straight away. One of the advantages of having shifter blood. But he wasn’t alone and with enemy eyes on him, it probably wasn’t the best time to reveal his most closely guarded secret since joining the military. He’d heard what happened to other shifters who’d made their special talents known to their superiors.
Jack examined the only other occupant of the Suburban. The man was unconscious and Raven didn’t even know his name to rouse him. Instead, he slapped him a few times on the cheek and shook him gently. They had to move eventually and the sooner he could get his high value cargo awake and alert, the better their chances of survival. Jack had never lost a critical package during one of his covert missions and he planned to maintain his exemplary record of on time and safe delivery.