The connection was already there, far stronger now than it had been when we were kids. That gave us a solid foundation to build upon. She trusted me instinctively, and while she might not have knowledge of why that was, she seemed to accept it.
We took the next several days to get to know each other while she recovered. I fussed over her, which seemed to confuse her at first, but she quickly learned it was far easier to let me do things for her, like fix her meals and fluff her pillows, than to resist. With each passing hour, the bond between us grew.
I told her about my time in the service and how I now managed the lodge with my family. She told me about her painting, and how she had been moving around every couple months, afflicted with a kind of wanderlust, never happy in one place for too long. I saw it for what it was—fate’s way of ensuring our paths crossed again.
I had called Kayden and asked him to deliver one of the SUVs to Two Forks, so on Christmas Eve morning, I coaxed Chloe into the vehicle, along with several of her paintings, and then we headed north.
Despite my repeated assurances, she worried about infringing on “family time.” She really had no idea she was already considered part of the family. That she had been since the day she had first stepped into my second-grade classroom and was introduced as the new girl. I had gone home that day and told my parents that I had met the girl I was going to marry someday. I never questioned it, and neither had they. Our animals always knew.
No matter how many times she plied me with questions—the woman had the natural curiosity of a bear—I remained steadfast. I didn’t want to hit her with the heavy stuff, not right away. As far as she knew, she was coming to the lodge for a visit, but it was so much more than that. I was taking Chloe home.
We made a quick stop at the small motel/restaurant/gift shop to pick up the painting I had bought. She seemed surprised by that, but she would soon learn why those paintings meant so much to me. They proved that, no matter how much time and distance separated us, she had carried a piece of me in her heart and soul, just as I had carried her in mine.
The proprietor, Jack, had given me a wink and a knowing smile when I introduced him to Chloe. We wished him a safe trip to Florida to see his family, and promised to stop by for lunch when he re-opened in the spring.
The closer we got to the lodge, the more nervous she became. I wondered if the trip brought back bad memories and cursed myself for not considering that. When I said as much, she looked at me as if I had grown two heads. “It’s not that,” she explained quietly. “I’m just afraid I’m going to fall in love with it all over again, and that will just make it harder to leave.”
“Who says you have to leave?” I asked before I could stop myself.
She said nothing, just stared out the window with the ghost of a sad smile.
I wanted to blurt out the truth right then and there—that she was my mate, that she had a family, and that she would never be alone again. I didn’t, though. I wanted her to feel the truth of it when I spoke those words.
We went to the main lodge first. Much of my family was already there; there wasn’t much that could keep a sloth of bears from gathering together for the holidays, especially when family, food, and comfort was involved. Knowing I was bringing Chloe home made it impossible for them to stay away. Finding our mates was a big deal for bear shifters.
Some had met Chloe before; others had simply heard of her over the years. She seemed confused and a little freaked out by the welcoming attention. They all knew the truth, but I had warned them not to say anything.
My mother hugged her so hard I had to intervene before she bruised my girl. When she finally let go, they both had tears in their eyes and Chloe looked overwhelmed by all the attention.
“Chloe’s still recovering,” I said in explanation as I gently tugged her away from my mother. “She didn’t sleep in the car and needs her rest.”
Promising to return later that evening for Christmas Eve dinner, I led her out back.
I felt some of the tension leave her body as we walked across the clearing and into the woods. The grip on my hand eased, but she didn’t let go.
“Where are we going?”
“My place,” I said simply. “It’s too crowded in there, and I want you all to myself for a while.”
She didn’t believe me, I could tell. She thought I was just being kind, but I was completely serious. She was my mate, and my bear didn’t like her being around other males, especially since I hadn’t officially claimed her yet.
Chapter 10
Chloe
I was both relieved and anxious as Sam led me away from the main lodge and toward a small log cabin tucked away in the woods. Relieved because, while everyone had been very friendly and welcoming, it was a bit daunting. I was far more comfortable hanging back in the shadows than being the center of attention. And anxious because I was going to be alone with Sam again.
Being alone with Sam was complicated. On the one hand, I felt a soul deep peace whenever I was around him. I felt lighter. Safer. Happier. On the other hand, being close to him made my body light up in ways that were hard to ignore when it was just the two of us. I felt tingly. Achy. I had this nearly overwhelming compulsion to bury my face in his neck and drape my body over his, to feel his heat seep into my skin and warm me from the inside out.
It was definitely not a friendly, family, G-rated kind of feeling.
Was he feeling the same way? I didn’t know. I was good at sensing danger or picking up on things like anger and rage, but I was not good at gauging normal, everyday, non-violent vibes. However, sometimes when I caught him looking at me, I could have sworn I saw heat and hunger in his golden-brown gaze, but then he would blink and it would be gone. Outwardly, he had been affectionate, holding my hand or touching the small of my back, but that didn’t prove anything. His whole family was a huggy bunch.
At my place, battling the flu had kept a damper on these more-than-friendly stirrings, and on the ride here, the constant banter and beautiful vistas had provided enough of a distraction to keep these things to myself. Alone out here in Sam’s private space, out of sight and earshot of the main lodge, how was I ever going to pull this off without making a fool of myself, or worse, making things terribly awkward between us and possibly losing him as a friend?
“What’s wrong, Chloe?” Sam looked down at me with concern in his eyes, and I realized I had stopped just outside his door.
“Maybe it would be better if I stayed up at the lodge,” I offered.
A low noise, something like a growl, reverberated in the air around us. “You’re safe here with me.”
“Yes,” I murmured, “but you might not be safe with me.”
He tilted his head slightly and his eyes glowed. “What did you say?”
“Nothing.” I forced a smile and stepped in, appreciating the rustic, masculine space. Done in dark greens and browns, it was simple and comfortable. Perfectly Sam. I liked it. I especially liked that a fire was already blazing in the stone hearth, meaning someone must have come in and readied the place when Sam called ahead to say he was bringing me.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” he warned when I began removing my gloves.
“Why not? I thought you told your mother I needed to rest.”
“Do you want to rest, Chloe?”
Those tingles I had been feeling intensified. “Not really.”
“Good.” He grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Because we need a tree, and you’re going to pick it out.”
“I’m going to what?”
Sam didn’t answer. He simply took my overnight bag into the next room. His bedroom? Then he tugged my hand and we were off again. This time, to the barn. There we found a sleigh with a simple design, nothing like those fancy ones in seasonal commercials. About the size of a small car, it had removable panels on the backs and sides, as well as a small bench seat. Curved metal rails ran below, one on each side.
After putting a blanket on the seat, Sam told
me to climb on, then grabbed the straps and we were off.
The sleigh slid easily on the snow, but I worried about Sam doing all the pulling.
“Aren’t horses supposed to do that?” I asked.
He just laughed and told me to sit back and enjoy the ride.
I did. The view, in particular, was spectacular. Despite the freezing temps, Sam wore only a quilted flannel jacket and jeans, both of which looked damn good encasing his muscular legs and broad back and shoulders.
Before long, we came to a stop, and Sam pointed toward a thick forest of evergreens. They created a beautiful scene. Towering, rich dark greens, frosted with glittering white snow beneath a cloudless canopy of blue skies and sunshine. I took in every detail, knowing it would make a stunning piece if I could manage to capture it in a painting. The only thing missing was my bear, who was the centerpiece of everything I created.
My lips curved when I realized Sam was standing exactly where I would place my signature grizzly, smiling back at me with familiar golden-brown eyes.
“Come on, woman. Have at it.”
I inhaled deeply, drawing the scents of sweet pine and fresh snow into my lungs. “You were serious about that?” I asked. “You already have a tree in the lobby.” I had seen it when we had walked into the lodge earlier. It was a massive thing, at least ten feet tall and at least half as wide.
“Yes, but we don’t have one in the cabin, and we need a tree, Chloe.”
A thrill went through me at the way he said “we” and not “I” or “you,” but I tried not to read too much into it. Sam was just being Sam—kind, thoughtful, and playful. Regardless, I could admit I liked the idea of having a real Christmas tree, so I climbed off the sled and took my time.
Having never picked out a tree, I wanted to select a good one. It couldn’t be too big, because Sam’s cabin, while spacious, was cozy. However, it couldn’t be too small, either.
I made Sam stand next to a few possible choices, using his size as a gauge. He was a good sport, patiently posing while I walked around, muttering to myself.
“Too wide.” I frowned, shaking my head and moving toward another. “Too skinny. Too dense. Too sparse. Ah, this one is just right.”
He laughed, seeming to find my running monologue particularly funny. “Okay, Goldilocks. Are you sure?”
“Yes,” I said decisively, pleased with my choice. “Definitely this one.”
Chapter 11
Sam
She was so damn adorable. I had never seen anyone take picking out a Christmas tree so seriously before. Her eyes were sparkling; her smile, brilliant. I wanted to see that look on her face every day.
I made quick work of the tree, then hauled it back to the cabin and set it up. She wanted to decorate it right away, but I could see the weariness she tried to hide, so I insisted she rest until it was time for dinner.
Chloe was asleep seconds after her head hit the pillow. I took a few minutes just to look at her, tucked in my big bed. It felt right, having her there, in my place. The only thing that didn’t feel right was I wasn’t in there beside her.
I took a deep breath and calmed my bear. Soon, I told him.
He chuffed back at me, but he knew I was right. The fact that she was here at all was a major victory as far as I was concerned.
I scribbled a quick note and left it on the bedside table in case she woke up before I returned. Then I went out to the SUV, grabbed a couple of her paintings, and took them up to the main lodge.
“It’s remarkable,” my mother said a short time later as she stared at the canvases. “She’s managed to capture you perfectly. When are you going to tell her?”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure how she’s going to react.”
My mom pulled a sheet of cookies out of the oven and put another in. “It might not be as much of a shock as you think,” she said thoughtfully, swatting my hand when I reached for a cookie. “Bears seem to be a source of comfort for her.”
I thought back to that ratty thing she used to carry around in her backpack. Rufus, she had called him. We had found him in the guest room after the sheriff came and made her leave with her dad. I had planned on giving him back, but then she disappeared before I could. For a long time, I kept the bear in my room, hoping I would find her one day. Now, I finally had. It had been a while since I had lived in the lodge, though. After serving in the Army, I had come to appreciate having my own space.
“Mom, you wouldn’t happen to know what happened to—”
“Rufus?” she finished knowingly, using whatever psychic sense moms were gifted with. “Yes. I never could find it in my heart to get rid of him.”
While my mom went off to find Rufus, I grabbed a couple of my cousins and replaced some of the existing art pieces around the common areas with Chloe’s work. I might have been biased—hell, I knew I was biased—but everyone else who saw them also agreed they were superior to what we’d had hanging on the walls before.
My purpose in putting them up now was two-fold. When I brought her up to the lodge for dinner later, I wanted her to be able to look at them and find a sense of comfort and familiarity. I also wanted to provide a subtle nudge toward making her see just how much they—and she—belonged here.
Shortly after putting her paintings up, I headed back to my place with a box of tree trimming stuff, a tin of still-warm cookies, and a supersized thermal carafe of hot cocoa. My cabin was equipped with a kitchen, but I rarely used it, not when my mom was such a good cook and so close.
Chloe was already awake. I found her sitting on the large sofa, staring at the naked tree.
“Did you have a good nap?”
“I did,” she said with a soft smile. “Thank you.”
“No thanks necessary. I want you awake and alert tonight. This tree isn’t going to decorate itself, you know,” I added, indicating to the box.
Her smile widened. “Can we start now?”
I couldn’t say no. Chloe was like a little kid, rummaging around in the box and examining each piece with critical intent. I also couldn’t wipe the silly grin from my face as we loaded the thing up with lights, ribbons, and icicle-shaped crystal ornaments.
When we were done, Chloe stood back and eyed her handiwork. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Sure is,” I agreed. I was sure the tree was beautiful, too, but I was too busy looking at her.
All too soon, it was time to head up to the lodge for the big dinner. Chloe was nervous, I could tell. When I offered her my hand, she took it readily.
“Relax,” I told her.
“You’re going to stay close, right?”
She had no idea.
“I promise.”
“And afterward, we’ll come back here? Just the two of us?”
“Yes,” I confirmed. “Just the two of us.”
Chapter 12
Chloe
I had worried I was too worked up to fall asleep after picking out the tree, and had resigned myself to lying quietly to appease Sam. I was out shortly after hitting the pillow, however, and my nap had been deep and restorative. I thought that had something to do with being in Sam’s bed. It was big and comfortable and smelled like him, and like the man himself, it made me feel safe and cared for.
As we walked up to the main lodge, I couldn’t help wondering what the sleeping arrangements would be when we returned later that night. I would offer to take the couch, of course, but something told me Sam wouldn’t accept that. Would he be willing to share his big bed?
An image of snuggling up with Sam under the covers made heat rush to my cheeks and those tingles I had been feeling ramped up in intensity. I could picture that big, warm body wrapped around mine all too easily. How wonderful would it be to feel his calloused hands stroking my skin? Or to drape myself over his broad chest and feel the steady beat of his heart?
I shook my head, trying to dispel thoughts like that. They weren’t helpful, especially since we were going to have dinner with his family. I had to
get my errant thoughts away from snuggling up to the sexy bear of a man beside me and back on those appropriate for a holiday gathering of his family and friends. They had welcomed me with open arms and hearts, and I didn’t want to do anything to change that, or worse, embarrass Sam. He was too important to me, and it appeared that, over the years, his big heart had grown right along with the rest of him.
I had been floored when he had expressed concern on the drive in that returning to the lodge would dredge up unpleasant memories. Sadly, my childhood was a never-ending stream of unpleasant memories. My brief time here wasn’t one of them, though. On the contrary, it was one of the few bright spots, when I actually felt as if, given the chance, I might have belonged.
I had never imagined he might think I blamed him or his family for what had happened. I hadn’t. They had tried to help, and that was more than most had done. It wasn’t their fault my father was a drunk, abusive asshole. At some point before I left, I would let them know that. A festive clan gathering on Christmas Eve wasn’t the appropriate time or place to do so.
Dinner was a loud, raucous affair. Sam’s parents were there, as were both sets of his grandparents and numerous aunts, uncles, and cousins. Those in attendance ranged in age from a few months old to my age and well beyond.
I wasn’t the focus of attention as I had been earlier. In fact, several of the young men dropped their eyes when they spoke to me. I figured Sam might have had something to do with that.
After initial greetings and introductions, they carried on amongst themselves. I was content to sit next to Sam and just listen. They were an affectionate bunch and delighted in telling tales of past adventures, triumphs, and fiascos. Many of their stories centered around Sam, who laughed along good-naturedly. Some were embarrassing, like the time a young Sam tried to relieve a hive of bees of their honey and he had run hell-bent toward the freezing waters of the mountain spring-fed lake, shedding bee-covered articles of clothing along the way to escape their wrath. Others were heartwarming, such as how Sam spent every Sunday going around to neighbors, especially elderly ones, quietly doing home repairs. Every now and then, he would look over at me and wink, and I realized those recollections had been told for my benefit.
A Very Beary Christmas Page 5