The flower strategy was off to a lousy start. The next morning, after picking up donuts at dawn, he’d discovered the only place in town that sold flowers was the small grocery store, and they didn’t open until 7:00 a.m. He’d eaten four bear claws in his SUV waiting for the store to open.
Now, at 7:05, as he was returning to his vehicle with flowers and a card, he spotted Alastair driving down Main Street in the rental car. Elsa and her two aunts followed in another car.
Dammit, he was late! He tossed the flowers onto the passenger seat and turned on the engine. Wait. He’d better not catch up with them. If they saw him, they might think he was stalking them. And he couldn’t park in the driveway next to them at the gatehouse.
He needed to give them a few minutes. To pass the time, he took a pen from the glove compartment and wrote Elsa a note on the card. Then he slipped it under the ribbon that was tied around the flowers and tissue paper.
He turned onto Main Street and drove slowly out of town so he wouldn’t catch up with Elsa. He passed the driveway to the gatehouse, then pulled over and parked at the head of the trail that led to the house. With his arms full, he hurried through the woods. The trail ended at the driveway, but he stopped before that, keeping himself hidden behind some trees. There, on the driveway, he spied two cars in front of the house.
Elsa and her aunts were standing by a car, talking. One aunt looked middle-aged, and the other older with silvery blond hair, but they were clearly related to Elsa. Both were tall and fair, still pretty. As he watched, one of the women opened the car trunk and pulled out a shotgun.
Holy crap. Elsa hadn’t been kidding. Her aunts were armed and dangerous.
He circled to the back of the house, keeping himself well hidden, then set his gifts on the steps to unlock the back door with his key.
He cracked the door and peered inside. The foyer was empty. He could hear footsteps toward the front of the house, probably Alastair. He grabbed his gifts and darted across the foyer and into the kitchen.
So far, so good. He set the large box of donuts on the kitchen table, just like he’d been doing every morning for the past week, then placed the flowers next to it. It was the biggest bouquet they’d had in the grocery store—pink roses that reminded him of Elsa’s pretty mouth, white daisies as soft as her skin, and big green fronds that reminded him of her eyes.
He was halfway to the door when he heard Elsa’s voice. In the foyer.
“Ready for your morning donut?”
“Lord, yes,” Alastair answered. “We’d better grab a few before Oskar and The B Boys arrive.”
Elsa chuckled. “I swear they inhale the entire box in five seconds . . .”
Howard took a quick peek. Holy crap. He couldn’t exit the back door without them seeing him.
He surveyed the kitchen. A small window over the old sink. Too small. Another door on the far side of the room.
He dashed over to it and peered inside. Jackpot. There was a huge opening in the wall where a big window had been taken out. He could slip through there and make it back to his SUV without Elsa seeing him.
He hesitated. Was this the cowardly way out? Why not stay in the kitchen and confront her? But he’d given his word not to see her. And what if her aunts came running with their weapons?
No, he’d leave for now. Maybe the flower strategy would work and she would contact him. It would be better if it was her decision to see him.
He eased inside the small room and shut the door.
Elsa followed Alastair into the kitchen and smiled when he headed straight for the table. She was getting hooked on the daily donuts, too.
She set her tool belt on the counter, close to the kitchen sink. Today, she would take measurements and plan how to tackle the cabinets. She would need to add more overhead ones. And a big island with more—
“Blimey, look at this.”
She turned to see what Alastair was pointing at. Flowers? Her mouth fell open. “For . . . for me?”
Alastair gave her a wry look. “You think Howard has a crush on me? Besides, your name is on the card. That’s what we call a clue.”
“Oh.” Her heart swelled in her chest. Howard had given her flowers?
She rushed over to the table. “They’re beautiful!”
Flowers from Howard. She touched the card with his bold handwriting, then gently stroked one of the pink roses. She couldn’t recall ever getting flowers before. Her last boyfriend had surprised her on Valentine’s Day with two tickets to a wrestling match. Somehow, guys never understood that inside her large body there was a woman who craved pretty, girly things as much as any other female.
But Howard understood. And he hadn’t forgotten her or given up on her.
“Are you sure you don’t want to see him?” Alastair watched her closely. “You have an incredibly sappy look—”
“Hush.” She glared at him, then grabbed the flowers and marched toward the kitchen sink, putting her back to him so he couldn’t see her read the note. She lay the bouquet down next to her tool belt.
Crack! A loud noise erupted in the room next door, followed by a man’s shout.
She jumped.
“What the hell?” Alastair ran toward the laundry room and flung the door open. “Oh my God.”
“What?” Elsa bumped up against him, trying to see into the room.
She gasped. There was a huge, gaping hole in the floor. Someone had fallen through? A masculine groan floated up from the cellar. Howard?
She rushed forward.
“Careful.” Alastair grabbed her arm. “Don’t get too close.”
She craned her neck, trying to peer into the hole. “Howard, is that you?”
A groan answered, then a muttered, “Holy crap.”
Her heart plummeted. Howard could be seriously injured.
“Call an ambulance,” Alastair whispered. “I’ll go downstairs to check on him.” He rushed from the room.
An ambulance? A wave of dizziness swept over Elsa, and she crouched on the floor to keep from falling. Where had she left her handbag and cell phone? In the kitchen? The parlor? Had Howard gotten hurt bringing her flowers?
“Howard?” She crawled toward the hole. It was dark in the cellar, and she could barely make out his form.
“Elsa, don’t get close to the edge,” he called up to her. “You could fall.”
He was worried about her? Her aunts had to be wrong. Howard wasn’t a beast, planning to harm her. The poor guy had to be in pain, yet he was more concerned about her safety than his own injuries.
“How badly are you hurt?” she asked.
“Just a few scrapes. No big deal.”
She suspected he was making light of it. “What were you doing?”
“I—I was running late this morning. I thought I could leave through the window opening.”
A pang of guilt shot through her chest. He had tried to leave the house without her seeing him. He’d gotten injured trying to honor her wishes.
A light suddenly brightened the cellar, and Alastair appeared below, aiming a flashlight at Howard. She gasped at the sight of blood on his arms and chest. He’d fallen at least ten feet right onto hard cement. His clothes had been ripped by the jagged ends of the wooden floor that had cracked and collapsed under his weight.
“Any broken bones?” Alastair knelt beside him. “Did you hit your head?”
“I’m okay.”
“We’ll let a doctor decide that.” Alastair glanced up at Elsa. “Did you call the ambulance?”
“No!” Howard sat up and grabbed his rib cage, wincing. “I don’t need that.”
“Bloody hell,” Alastair hissed. “You should have been backboarded. Now lay still until—”
“No.” Howard rose slowly to his feet. “This is no big deal. I’ll be fine.”
“You’re not fine!” Alastair shouted. “You’re bleeding.”
Howard limped out of Elsa’s view. She scooted back, then ran toward the head of the stairs. In a few minutes,
she saw him slowly climbing up from the basement.
Her heart squeezed. He looked so beat up. “Can I take you to a doctor?”
He glanced up at her. “I appreciate that, but there’s no need.”
“I’m so sorry you felt you had to . . . escape out a window. I feel terrible—”
“No, don’t feel bad.” He reached the top of the stairs and whispered, “I’ll be fine. I’m self-healing.”
She blinked. “You mean you can—” She leaned close. “It’s like a superpower?”
“Something like that.” He gave her a wry smile. “Can we meet sometime when I’m not bleeding on the floor?”
She gazed into his eyes, and for the life of her, she couldn’t see the wild beast her aunts warned her about. All she could see was a man who was strong enough to retain his sense of humor and polite demeanor even when suffering from pain.
“Howard,” Alastair said as he came up the stairs, “at least let me take you to the clinic in town.”
“It’s not necessary,” Howard assured him. “There’s a clinic where I work, so I’ll be on my way.” He gave Elsa a hopeful look. “Will you call me?”
She nodded. “Yes.” Her aunts would throw a fit if they found out, but they didn’t know Howard like she did.
“Good.” He smiled at her. “You must think I’m an awful klutz.”
She shook her head, her cheeks warming with a blush. “No.” She thought he was the sweetest man she’d ever met.
He glanced toward the front door. “To avoid sustaining further injuries such as gunshot wounds, I’ll just make my exit out the back.”
She winced. “I understand.” As he walked haltingly toward the back door, her heart squeezed.
“Be careful,” she called as he eased out the door.
“You’re totally smitten,” Alastair whispered.
“Hush.”
“Not that I blame you. The man nearly killed himself just to bring you flowers.”
She shot him an irritated look, then rushed into the kitchen. She spotted Howard through the small window over the sink. He was walking into the woods.
She opened the note he’d left with the flowers. Give me a chance to prove I’m worthy of you.
“Oh, Howard,” she whispered. She glanced back at the window.
He was going deeper into the woods. Shouldn’t he be going toward the road so he could return to the school and the clinic there?
I’m self-healing. Maybe he didn’t need a clinic.
She bit her lip, watching him disappear among the trees. Where was he going? How did he heal himself? Dammit, there was so much she didn’t know about him. How could she make an informed decision on whether to trust him, when she didn’t have enough information?
She rushed into the foyer.
“Oskar’s here,” Alastair yelled as he headed for the front door.
“I—I’m going to make sure Howard gets back to his car all right.”
Alastair glanced back with a smirk. “Right. Take all the time you need, luv.”
“Ah, if you could not mention it to my aunts—”
“Mum’s the word.” Alastair pretended to zip his mouth.
“Thanks.” She slipped out the back door and jogged into the woods in the direction Howard had gone.
After a few minutes, she was surrounded by trees and beginning to wish she’d left a trail of donut crumbs. It would be just her luck to get lost in the woods. The dark, creepy woods.
She snorted to herself. Some Guardian of the Forest she made. All the trees looked alike to her. She glanced back. The house was no longer visible. A deer peeked around a tree, watching her. Then another deer peered around a bush.
“Sheesh,” she whispered. “You guys always show up. At least I don’t have to worry about being alone in the dark, creepy woods.” Though she doubted these two deer could offer her much protection.
The deer ambled closer.
They were bigger than she’d thought. She stepped back. “That’s close enough.”
They stopped but continued to stare at her.
“What do you want?” Did they expect her to do some sort of guardian thing? What the heck did a guardian do?
She waved a hand in the air. “Carry on, my loyal subjects. Cheerio.”
They gazed at her blankly.
Apparently, being a guardian wasn’t like being a queen. “Look, I don’t mean to disturb your normal routine. I’m just trying to find a man who passed through this way.”
The deer sprinted past her, then paused to glance back with an inviting look.
“He went that way?”
They cantered off, and she jogged after them. “I hope you’re not taking me to some weird animal ceremony. I never liked venison, okay?” Except in sausage, but she wouldn’t tell them that.
She winced. What if they could hear her thoughts?
She followed them for about five minutes, weaving around trees and jumping over moss-covered logs. Then they scampered downhill, moving quickly and nimbly. She slowed down, afraid she would skid on the damp, fallen leaves and hurt herself in the middle of nowhere.
The sound of rushing water grew louder, and the ravine grew steeper and rockier. She picked her way down slowly, grasping the branches of trees to keep her balance.
Finally, she reached the bottom. The trees ended, along with the spongy ground covered with pine needles. A rocky slab extended toward the edge of a creek. The sun shone brightly, and she blinked to adjust her eyes.
The stream serpentined along the bottom of the ravine, tumbling over rocks and meandering around large boulders. Downstream, she spotted Howard, partially hidden behind a pile of rocks. His back was to her, his torso bare. He’d taken off his shirt.
The deer scampered downstream, their hooves clattering on the rocky slab.
He turned toward the sound, and Elsa ducked back behind the tree line. Chicken. Why don’t you let him know you’re here?
She winced. She wasn’t sure he wanted her here. After all, if a man wandered off into the woods, didn’t that mean he wanted to be alone? If he had to use some sort of superpower to heal himself, he probably wanted to keep it secret.
But if he was serious about having a relationship with her, then he shouldn’t keep secrets. She eased quietly downstream, making sure she was hidden behind trees and bushes. Luckily, the deer had decided to scurry back up the hill, and they were making enough noise to cover any noise she made.
Thanks, guys! She called out to them mentally. Great. Now she was as crazy as her aunts.
She spotted Howard, standing behind a large boulder that was flat on top. Apparently, he had washed his shirt in the stream, for it was wet, and he was laying it on top of the sunny rock to dry. She tiptoed farther downstream so she could see him from behind.
He was standing where the stream made a sharp turn. A wall of granite had impeded its progress, resulting in a pothole where the water was deep enough for swimming.
She winced at the raw and bloody scrapes along his torso and arms. Poor Howard. He kicked off his shoes, then unbuckled his pants and dropped them.
Her breath caught, and she covered her mouth. With his super hearing, she had to be careful not to make a sound. But it was hard, so hard not to whimper when he hooked his thumbs into the elastic waistband of his blue cotton briefs and slowly eased them over his rump.
Oh God. She squeezed her eyes shut and turned, pressing her back against the large tree that hid her. She was as bad as a Peeping Tom. Ogling the poor guy when he was covered with scrapes and blood.
But shouldn’t she see how badly he was injured? She opened her eyes and peered around the tree.
Good Lord. Her heart stilled. He had the most beautiful rump in the world. No, the universe. Poetry should be written and songs dedicated to it.
Her eyes widened as she took in his entire form from the back. Huge, hunky Howard.
He stepped into the pool, walking forward till the water was up to his waist. Then he washed the blood
off his arms and chest. Was this part of his healing routine? Whatever it was, it was beautiful to watch.
He scooped up some water with his big hands and splashed it on his face. Another scoop, and he raked it through his hair. His biceps bulged. The muscles in his back rippled. Her knees threatened to buckle.
She crouched behind the large tree, but a bush obstructed her view. She eased a branch aside. He had turned and was now facing her. Oh God, lucky break. He might have seen her if she hadn’t knelt in the nick of time.
She closed her eyes, chiding herself. You should be ashamed of yourself, ogling the poor man when he’s injured.
She opened her eyes and gasped. He was turning gray!
He looked up.
Dammit. She hunkered lower behind the bush. What on earth was going on? A man’s skin color didn’t just change like that.
She peeked again. Gray! He looked like a Greek god, sculpted out of pewter. His eyes blazed a deep blue.
Her heart raced. This had to be his superpower. This was how he healed himself!
She took another peek and choked. His body was shimmering, growing, changing. Hair sprouted. His face contorted, shimmered, then snapped into sharp focus.
A bear.
Her knees and arms buckled, and she collapsed on the ground. Dazed, she watched him through the branches.
She blinked, and he was still there.
Howard was a bear.
She shook her head. She’d wondered if he could be a wolf or bear, but now, with the proof right in front of her, she still found it hard to believe. But there he was. A huge, freaking bear. Not a cute little panda. A humongous, hulking grizzly bear!
He splashed around in the water, then lumbered out onto the bank and shook himself. Droplets of water shot out in all directions.
Her heart lurched as reality finally slapped her hard across the face. She was about thirty feet away from a grizzly bear!
Panic slammed into her. What could she do? If she ran up the hill, he would see her and chase her down. He? Was it a he? Was there any of Howard in that huge beast?
Oh God, she should have listened to her aunts! They’d warned her that he was a berserker, that he could turn into a beast, a killing machine.
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