Bear West: BBW Bear Shifter Mail Order Bride Romance

by Chant, Zoe

  “Get off my land,” Diego said. His bear was pressing up beneath his skin, eager to shift. Diego kept control, but he felt his shoulders broaden, his height increased by a few inches, his teeth becoming sharper than a human’s.

  Seth looked up at him, and Diego wanted him to start a fight. He knew he could crush this wolf. Hell, he could take him out with one swipe of his paw. But after a tense second of silence, Seth looked away, conceding dominance to Diego.

  Seth climbed back into his car, but he leaned out of the window to get the last word. “It won’t be your land for much longer. You might be able to drive me off today, but you can’t take on all of us. Especially not alone.” Diego started forward, rage nearly blinding him, but Seth turned the ignition and sped off before Diego could attack.

  Diego followed him for a few minutes, watching the dust cloud behind Seth’s car to be sure that he actually was heading away, back to the road and his own territory. Diego had won this round, but Seth was right. If Diego didn’t have a mate, his new home would be just temporary. He had to find some way to strengthen his claim to the land. And for that, he needed Carla Jenkins.

  7. Carla

  Carla sat in Pioche’s one and only bar, nursing a beer and trying to resist the urge to phone Diego.

  Pioche was a much smaller town than what she was used to, but having spent the last few days exploring it, she was beginning to think that she could be happy here. Not that there was much to explore – at least not in terms of streets or stores. She could walk a circle around the entire downtown in less time than it took her to do her daily commute back in New York.

  She hadn’t been bored. Back home, when she walked down the sidewalk, no one stopped and waved, no one said hello, hell, no one even made eye contact!

  But here in Pioche the people were different. Strangers stopped and welcomed her to Nevada. Fellow guests at the hotel smiled at her. The waitress who poured Carla’s coffee every morning asked her questions about her life as though she were genuinely interested. Carla had never met so many people this warm and friendly. It made her want to stay, and try to become one of them.

  And although Pioche itself might not have much to do, it was surrounded by wilderness unlike anything she’d ever known. There was everything she could imagine here: mountains and valleys, forests and meadows, babbling brooks and dusty deserts, all of them near enough to reach in a single day. She could go hiking, fishing, rock-climbing, or even hunting – though she’d never done that before and wasn’t sure she could actually catch anything. It was a totally different lifestyle here, but Carla thought it might be exactly what she needed.

  All she had to do was make up her mind. She wanted to stay here, she wanted to let herself fall in love with Diego – God, of course she did! He was amazingly hot, gentle, considerate, and they’d had incredible sex... but everything seemed to be moving so fast. Could she really trust him?

  Each time she came close to giving in to her heart’s desire, she reminded herself of what it had felt like to spend that morning alone, wondering who Diego was and what he was hiding from her. She didn’t want to spend the rest of her life wondering where her husband was.

  And so here she was, sitting by herself in a bar, unable to make the most important decision of her life.

  Someone sat next to her, interrupting her self-pity, and Carla looked up. It was a man about her own age, with a thin, wiry build and long hair an indeterminate color between dark blond and light brown. He had bright green eyes and a cocky, self-assured expression. “Well, hello, little lady,” he drawled. “You must be new in town. I’m sure I would remember a woman as lovely as you, if we’d met before.”

  Carla resented being called “little lady”, but his Western accent reminded her of Diego. This guy seemed charming in a smug, overconfident sort of way that was very unlike Diego’s quiet strength. Still, she was glad to have an excuse to forget about her worries for a little while. “Yeah,” she answered. “I’ve only been here for five days. It seems like everyone knows I’m new with one glance.”

  “We don’t get too many tourists here in Pioche. Especially not big city types like yourself.”

  “You can tell that, too?”

  The man nodded, then stuck out his hand. Carla shook it, but before she could pull away, he held onto her, his long fingers hot and a little sweaty as he trapped her in his surprisingly strong grip. “How rude of me, I haven’t introduced myself yet.” He leaned in a little closer, that green gaze probing her face. Carla felt cornered. “My name is Caleb. What can I call you?”

  Nothing, Carla wanted to say, but that would be rude, and he hadn’t actually done anything to her.

  “Carla. Carla Jenkins,” she said, trying again to pull her hand away.

  This time he let her go, but only so that he could turn and signal the bartender. “Let me buy you a drink.”

  “Oh, no, I’m fine, really – ”

  “I insist. You’ve got to let me. Out here, we taking treating our guests right very seriously. You’ll just have to get used to it.”

  Carla wasn’t so sure about that, but she supposed her beer had gone flat anyway. She might as well let Caleb buy her a new one. But instead of beer, he ordered two shots of whiskey. “It’s only four o’clock!” she protested. “I haven’t even had dinner yet.”

  “It’s just one shot,” Caleb said entreatingly. “I’ve got to introduce you to the good stuff. That – ” he flicked his fingers dismissively at her bottle of beer, “ – you might as well be drinking water. Trust me.”

  Carla sighed, but when their shots came, she threw hers back. She coughed, surprised at the fierce burn. It did taste good, though: smoky and woody. Caleb laughed at the expression she made, and ordered another round before she could stop him.

  He was very handsome, even if he wasn’t someone she would want to date. It was flattering that he’d decided to flirt with her. She’d never been the sort of woman that strangers came up to in bars, and no one had ever bought her a drink before. It was nice to have that happen for once in her life.

  But she couldn't enjoy it. No matter how handsome Caleb was, Diego was handsomer. And he had never made her feel uncomfortable; he always made her laugh and feel special. No, comparing Caleb and Diego just made her realize how much she had to lose if she turned Diego down. So what if he had a few secrets? Didn't everyone?

  This is it, she realized. I've made my decision. Tomorrow I'll call Diego. I'll tell him yes, I want to get married.

  She downed the second shot of whiskey in celebration. This must be my bachelorette party!, she thought. I deserve to go a little wild.

  That decision made her so happy, and the warm spread of the whiskey in her belly made her feel so light and unrestrained, that Carla ended up drinking more than she meant to. Before long, she realized that she wasn’t just buzzed – she was completely drunk. She pushed back from the bar and stood up, and the room seemed to spin around her. “Whoa,” she said, grabbing onto the back of her chair to keep her balance.

  Caleb took hold of her elbow and steadied her. She didn’t really like having him so close, but it was better than ending up on her ass, flat on the floor.

  “Careful there, little lady,” he said. She closed her eyes to make the walls stop moving, and when she opened them again, Caleb was way too close. All she could see was his grin; his teeth seemed very sharp and white. “I don’t think I should leave you alone,” he said. “Why don’t I walk you back to the hotel?”

  She was sure she should say no, but she couldn’t remember why. Instead she nodded very carefully, to keep her head from feeling like it would fall off. “Okay,” she said. “Do you know the way?”

  “Don’t worry. I know exactly where to take you.”

  Somehow Carla lost the next few minutes. How could she have drunk so much? She hadn’t behaved so recklessly since she was a teenager. She should be grateful that Caleb was here to help her out, but she wished she was alone.

  No. What she really wante
d was for Diego to be here. She let herself picture it: his big hands helping her keep her balance, his deep voice murmuring comfort, the cool brush of his fingers lifting the hair off her forehead. God, she missed him. How could she have ever left him? He was everything she wanted. As soon as she sobered up, she would tell him that she wanted to get married.

  Carla stumbled over a rock, then lifted her head and looked around. She didn’t recognize her surroundings at all. They weren’t even on a road, but had left the town somewhere behind and were climbing a hill. There was nothing but sagebrush and empty land to either side. “This isn’t the way to the hotel,” she said.

  “Sure, it is. It’s just a little further.” Caleb tugged on her elbow, drawing her on toward the crest of the hill.

  Carla planted her feet. “No. I don’t want to go anywhere with you.”

  “We’re almost there,” Caleb insisted. He tried to give her a reassuring smile, but even with the alcohol blurring her senses, Carla could tell that he was tense and frustrated, and the grin came out more like a grimace.

  “No!” Carla yanked free of his grip. She turned to walk back down the hill – she had no idea where her hotel was, but she certainly didn’t want to keep going the same direction that Caleb had been taking her – but in her hurry, she tripped on the rough ground and fell to her hands and knees. Before she could recover herself, a hand grabbed her arm, pulling her back to her feet.

  “Caleb, I said I don’t want – ” Carla looked up, and fell silent. It wasn’t Caleb touching her.

  The man with the rough grip on her arm was someone she’d never met before, but he had the same bright green eyes and dusty brown hair as Caleb. He grinned at her, and Carla’s stomach went cold. She stepped back and he let her go, but when she turned to run, a third man grabbed her from behind, easily holding onto her when she tried to fight free. He laughed and said, “She’s a feisty one, ain’t she?”

  “Now, now,” said the man who’d helped her to her feet. “There’s no need for that. You’re scaring her.”

  Carla quelled her growing panic and looked around. There were four men total, counting Caleb, and they all had such a similar look that she guessed they must be relatives.

  “Who are you?” she asked, proud of herself for keeping her voice steady. “What do you want?”

  Caleb stepped forward. “These are my brothers. We’re the Sullivan family.” He said the name like he expected it to be significant, but Carla had never heard it before. When she didn’t react, he pouted like a little boy deprived of a toy.

  The oldest man, the one who seemed to be in charge, sighed and shook his head. “She doesn’t know. Ain’t that just like a bear, always keeping secrets, never sharing anything with his family. That’s gonna make things harder for us. Like Pa always said: you can’t trust a bear.”

  The man holding Carla grunted in agreement. “That’s right.”

  A bear? Carla thought. What are these guys talking about? They must be crazy! I’ve got to get away from them.

  The oldest man stepped closer to her and tugged on the brim of his hat. “My name is Seth Sullivan, ma’am. You’ve already met my younger brother Caleb. He considers himself mighty handsome, and claimed he could charm any woman he wanted into going wherever he said.” A smirk tugged at one corner of Seth’s mouth. “Guess he ain’t quite such a good flirt as he thinks.”

  Carla turned her face away, refusing to be drawn into polite conversation with these men. Seth ignored her response and continued to make small talk. “The big guy holding onto you is Ezra, and that’s Jamie over there. We got another brother, Austin, but he wouldn’t come out with us today. He said that what we got planned, he didn’t think it was right.”

  “Good for him,” Carla said, her voice low and bitter.

  Seth frowned. “Now, ma’am, you got to understand: none of us want to hurt you. If you’ll just do what we say, we can all go our separate ways. But if you don’t agree, well....”

  Seth’s voice trailed off and he sighed, staring into the distance. After a long moment, his gaze came back to hers, and his expression was cold and hard. “Well, then I’d have to do something I don’t want to do. Do you understand me?”

  Carla’s thoughts raced, but she couldn’t see a way to escape yet. If it had been only one or two men, she might have fought, but there was no way she could take on four. They hadn’t brought out any weapons, but that didn’t mean they didn’t have any. Even if she screamed, there was no one in sight; probably no one was near enough to hear.

  Just agree to whatever they want, she thought. I can call the cops after I get back to town.

  “I understand. What is it you want me to do?”

  Seth smiled, but no warmth reached his eyes. “It’s real simple. I want you to leave town.” He spread his hands, showing his open palms. “That’s all. Not too much to ask, is it?”

  “Leave town? But... why?”

  “Fucking Ramirez,” muttered Ezra, behind her.

  Carla twisted until she could see Ezra’s face. “Diego? What does he have to do with this?”

  Caleb scowled. “None of your business!” Carla couldn’t imagine how she’d ever thought Caleb was a nice guy, even if she had been drunk. At least she seemed to be sobering quickly, with adrenaline chasing the alcohol from her blood. Now Caleb just looked nasty, with the dangerous, vicious expression of a feral dog.

  Seth made a placating gesture, waving Caleb back away from her. “Me and my brothers, we’ve got what you might call a feud with Mr. Ramirez. You don’t need to worry yourself none about it. We don’t want to hurt him either. We just want him to leave – and give us back our land. If you stick around, you’ll encourage him to stay. But if you leave, I predict Mr. Ramirez’ll follow not long behind you.”

  “Diego and I – we’re not – ” Carla wasn’t sure how much they knew. She and Diego had gone on several dates since she had moved to Pioche, and maybe the Sullivans had spied on them. But how could they think that she was so important her presence would be the thing to determine whether Diego stayed or went? She’d only known him for a few days, after all. She couldn’t make him change his mind about where to live.

  “We don’t have that sort of relationship,” she finally finished, though that explanation seemed woefully inadequate to describe all the complicated emotions between her and Diego.

  “Of course you don’t,” Seth said condescendingly. Carla wished someone would punch him in his smug face. “Since you don’t love him, then you won’t have any problem going back East, right? This news just means that our deal will be even easier on you than I originally thought.”

  “No!” As soon as she’d said it, Carla knew she shouldn’t have. But Seth and his brothers were just the sort of petty bullies that she’d always hated, and she refused to give in to them, even if it was the safe thing to do.

  Seth shook his head and leaned into her personal space. “Are you going to make me do something that I don’t want to do?” Over his shoulder, Carla saw Jamie, the smallest brother, turn pale and close his eyes.

  She swallowed past a lump of fear in her throat. “You can’t make me do anything. You’re a bunch of cowards, threatening me like this. What sort of odds are four to one, anyway? Were you afraid one bully wouldn’t be enough?”

  “You’ll change your mind.” Seth showed his teeth, but it was more of a snarl than a smile. Carla took a shaky breath and tried to straighten her shoulders, determined to show no fear.

  She sent up a prayer that someone would help her, but it wasn’t her dad or an anonymous policeman that she pictured; it was Diego. Even though they’d had a fight, it was him that she wanted to be here, by her side. She knew that he would never let anyone hurt her.

  8. Diego

  Diego had been thinking about Carla all day. That wasn’t unusual, but today it was particularly bad. He’d dropped his tools so many times Andy had finally taken them away from him, cracking a joke that Diego was behaving like a teenage boy with a crush.r />
  This feeling was nothing like having a crush. To have a mate meant that you could feel them all the time, know where they were, and sometimes even sense their emotions. Even if Carla technically wasn’t his mate yet, she had the potential to be, and Diego’s bear wasn’t going to let him forget it.

  Finally he surrendered to his animal instincts. Andy had shaken his head as Diego hurried away. “Carla’s fine – what’s the worst thing that could happen to her in Pioche, anyway? It’s too small to get lost in, and even if she went hiking in one of the nearby parks, the weather’s fine today.”

  Diego hadn’t been able to explain; he just knew that he had to get to her. Andy had understood even if he teased him about it. He was a shifter too, after all. He agreed to finish fixing the fence they were working on by himself, and Diego decided to drive into Pioche to check on Carla.

  He knew he should phone first, but with each minute that passed, the urgent tension thrumming beneath his skin grew stronger and stronger. It no longer was a pleasant distraction. Instead it felt like having another shifter in his territory, or when an electric storm caught him in bear shape: a sense that something was wrong, that he needed to be prepared for danger. He didn’t even bother to shower or change his clothes, but hopped straight into his truck and pulled out onto the road.

  There’s plenty of time to find her before she could get really hurt, he told himself. Still, every time he glanced down at his truck’s dashboard, he saw his speed had crept back up, putting him well over the legal limit.

  After what seemed like years but realistically was less than an hour from when he’d first felt that tingling unease, Diego saw Pioche over the crest of the next hill. There, next to a general store, was Carla’s hotel, but his bear insisted that she wasn’t there.

  He didn’t know how he could tell her location, but he decided to trust his instincts. Diego drove straight through Pioche, his bear telling him to go forward. It made no sense, but that tingle of impending danger was growing stronger and stronger. The hair on his arms and the back of his neck stood up, like the hackles on a bear that rose when it was threatened or angry.