Mrs. Carroll's face twisted into a concerned expression. “That's pretty fast, Riley.”
“I know.” The warmth in her cheeks turned to a burning sensation. “But sometimes you just know, you know?” Internally she rolled her eyes at her ineloquent comment.
“That doesn't make me feel any better, Riley. Are you sure this is a good idea?” Mrs. Carroll laid a hand on her arm.
Riley nodded. “I know it seems… maybe not so wise, but I just feel like Russ… well he's worth the risk.”
The older woman's eyes widened. “Russ Tadzea?”
At Riley's next nod, she visibly relaxed. “Oh, wow. I've never known Russ to do anything like this. But he's a good, steady, reliable man. You'll be fine with him, Riley. Congratulations.”
Riley grinned. Russ had a powerful impact on everyone.
“He's a werewolf,” a cracked and wavering voice emerged from the corner. Riley turned and as expected, Grandmother Carroll was waving a gnarled and bony finger in her direction. The woman's hair seemed to vibrate in her agitation, the tight, white perm trembling around her brown face like a dandelion seed in the wind.
Riley approached the elderly woman and took her hand. “I promise you, Mrs. Carroll, Russ is no werewolf.”
“He is,” the old woman repeated stubbornly, “and you're a floozy.”
“Well, I'm a happy floozy.” Stung, Riley moved away from the old woman. “I need to get back to class. See you later, Mrs. Carroll.”
“Riley…” The younger woman began, casting a glare at her mother-in-law.
“It's okay. I have to go, though.” Riley said. “And I really do appreciate you letting me stay with you these last couple of months.”
Without another word, Riley moved through the door and hiked down the freezing street back into the school building, glad she didn't leave things there when she was away, but just kept a packed overnight bag. Great. Now I'm going to have to try even harder to concentrate.
* * *
By the time 5pm rolled around, Riley had developed a massive headache. Apart from the normal kindergarten stresses of hair pulling, potty accidents and broken crayons, the unpleasantness of Grandmother Carroll's unfounded accusations bit at her. Werewolves are one thing, but a floozy? I've had sex with one man in my life. She rolled her eyes, telling herself furiously, once again, to let it go. She's an old woman with a sour disposition. She's probably bored, so she picks at people to pass the time. It's not personal. She barely knows you. Even staying there you didn't exchange more than about ten words a day. Sighing, she moved through her classroom, righting an overturned chair here, straightening a poster there. She wondered for the first time about the wisdom of what she was doing. Yes, there was something special about Russell, and she felt tremendously drawn to him, but could she truly trust him? “And why not?” she asked herself aloud. “When has he ever done anything untrustworthy?” There's a lot he still hasn't told you. “Of course. He has to let things out little by little, but that doesn't mean he's hiding them. He's only waiting for the right time. I love Russell.” Love what he does to you in bed, the sly little voice teased. Maybe you really are a floozy. “Stop it, Riley,” she told herself insistently. “I sleep with him because I love him and want to be close to him. It's a normal thing to do.”
“This sounds intense.”
Riley squeaked in surprised as warm arms enfolded her from behind. Then her face flamed, realizing she'd been caught talking to herself.
“Sorry,” she mumbled.
“Hey, no worries,” he replied. “It's a big transition. I'm not surprised you have a few doubts. I'm just thankful you're willing to face them with me.”
She turned and laid one hand on the back of his neck, stroking the silky white hairs there. “Of course.” A little tug had his lips in prime kissing position and she wasted no time claiming them. Here, in his arms, bathed in his scent, everything made sense again.
“Ready to go?” he asked, stepping back and taking her hand.
“Almost. I'm not quite dressed to go outside yet.”
In her hurry to get home, pulling on her outerwear seemed to take forever. As Riley pulled off her flats and replaced them with snow boots, Russell said, “Did something happen?”
“I ran into Grandmother Carroll,” Riley replied. She shoved her shoes in her satchel and reached for her coat.
“Sorry.” Russell winced and helped her pull up the zipper.
“I'm surprised, in the Twenty-First Century,” Riley continued as she settled her knitted cap on her head and began shoving her hands into fat and puffy gloves, “that a couple living together would cause anyone to raise an eyebrow. I thought you said people were open-minded here.”
Russell moved faster than she would have thought possible, especially given his size. Between one breath and the next he had her face in his hand and was kissing her again, a brief, wet smooch. “Most people are. But keep in mind that Grandmother Carroll is old and cranky. Her issues are her own. You don't have to make them yours.”
“I know,” Riley replied. “I keep telling myself that.”
“Well, don't stop. I love you and I want you with me every minute. That isn't going to change. Not for one grouchy old lady, that's for sure. I hope you feel the same way.”
“Of course I do, Russ,” Riley assured him. “I'm not leaving because werewolf-woman has an issue. I just didn't like being called a floozy. I'll be better tomorrow.”
Russell turned one corner of his mouth upward in a grim parody of a smile. “I feel sorry for Mrs. Carroll. Imagine living with that woman and her nasty comments full time.”
“You know,” Riley said as they turned and headed toward the door, “I was thinking exactly the same thing.”
“Besides, she's wrong. You're a good girl who loves her man. It's only natural.”
Riley smiled. “You'd know better than most.” Outside, a frigid wind blasted her in the face, stealing her breath. She gasped.
Russ laughed. “You'll get used to it.”
Riley glared evilly at him and struggled to draw air into her lungs as they crossed the parking lot and rounded the fence to the air strip, where his tiny plane waited to take them home. Home. Despite her rough day, the thought of the cabin filled her with a warm glow and set anticipation simmering in her belly. The heat in Russell's black eyes told her what they'd be doing when they got there. Eat your heart out, old woman. I'll be busy loving my man and not caring what you think.
Once he had the plane in the air, Russell spoke again. “I have to go away for a few days, Riley.”
She blinked. “Why? What's up?” She glanced at her beloved and noticed that his expression had turned grim.
“One of my uncles died. They're having a Potlatch for him this weekend. I've already requested a couple of personal days to attend it. I'm only staying Friday through Monday and I'll be home Tuesday, so you won't need to worry about the plane. Just take the snowmobile to Golden on Monday.”
Riley pondered in silence. The thought of Russell leaving didn't feel right. She wasn't settled enough in his cabin to want to be there without him. Nor did several nights' separation sit well with her, but her swirling thoughts refused to coalesce, so she asked a different question. “I've heard the term 'Potlatch' before. Isn't it a kind of party?”
He nodded. “Yeah. We dance, chant, and eat. Gifts are given. That sort of thing.”
His terse response begged more questions, but Riley wasn't quite sure how to ask them. Russell seemed distant, his eyes scanning the horizon.
“I'm sorry about your uncle,” she said at last.
“It's all right, Riley. He was very old, and his heath had long since failed. He was ready. This Potlatch will be a celebration of his life.”
“I like that idea,” she said. “Were… were you very close to him?”
His eyes slanted sideways at her for a brief moment before returning to the fast-approaching hills. Without the icy sleet to slow the plane, he was able to crest them easily
. The treetops clustering the summit seemed to reach like tickling fingers for the belly of the plane, quivering in a slow wind. “Not really. I grew up with my mother's family. Her brother, for the most part.”
“Interesting.” Riley didn't know what to make of that.
“It's fairly traditional in both the Native and Bear clans. The mother's brother features heavily in bringing up children, teaching them the ways of their people. Because I can shift, I was kept with the bears when I was weaned, whereas my brother, who does not have that ability, went to our father and has been trained to lead the community after Father passes.”
Though the information fascinated Riley, the tense set of Russell's jaw in no way resembled the relaxed manner in which he'd regaled her with other werebear tales. Apparently, while his culture was dear to him, his own experiences caused some pain.
“Will I ever get to meet them?” she asked.
This time he turned his entire head and looked at her in consternation. “Meet my family?”
“Yes, Russell,” she said, enunciating slowly, just shy of sarcasm. “Isn't meeting family members part of being in a relationship?”
He blinked, shook his head and returned his attention to flying the plane. “Yes, I suppose so. I mean, you can meet my dad's family. That would be okay. I'll contact him, ask if you can come to the Potlatch.”
“And your mother's family? You said your mother died, right?”
“Yes, when I was a small cub. I was raised by my uncle, like I told you, but I can't take you there. It's too dangerous.”
His eyes slid her direction, took in her questioning stare and elaborated.
“The shifters are a secretive lot. They'd prefer if only our brother tribe knew they existed, and even they are not allowed to know where the village is. Far as I know, I'm the only one who knows where they live but who is not part of the community. They barely tolerate me. If we went together, they'd kill us both.”
“Russ…”
He sighed. “I know, I know. Time to come clean, right? Yes, I grew up there. Now I'm not welcome to live with them anymore because of something that happened when I started puberty. Okay, are you ready for another story, this one absolutely true and not lore?”
Riley tugged off her glove and laid her hand on Russell's. “I want to hear everything about you.”
He grinned, but the lack of humor transformed his expression to a grimace.
Alarmed, a thousand random and pointless thoughts raged through Riley's head, crowding one over another so tight and close that not one could squirm free and force itself between her lips.
“Slow down your racing mind, Riley,” Russ said wryly. “I'm not a criminal or anything. It's not something I had control over. Okay, listen, honey. Let me explain a little bit about what it means to be what I am.”
At her nod, he continued.
“A bear shifter mother only has one cub at a time. Even twins are almost unheard of. That doesn't change when she's mated with a human. The only thing that can be affected is whether the offspring is a cub, who will learn to change shapes at puberty, or a human.”
His eyes met hers and she dipped her chin again, showing she was paying attention.
“When the baby is weaned, about at age two, the humans are taken to their fathers in the Den'a village, which is what happened to my younger brother. The cubs stay with the mother's brother, which is why I was raised by my uncle…”
“So whether Native or shifter,” Riley interrupted, “no mother gets to keep her baby after the age of two?” The very thought made her insides jump.
“That's right,” he replied.
“Well, if you think I'm going to hand over our baby, you're crazy.”
He turned his head fully away from the horizon to stare at her. “Are you…”
“Watch out.” Riley pointed at a fast-approaching tree. Russell jerked the plane upward with a nauseating jolt. “I don't know yet,” she added. “But you can't deny it's a possibility. We've done nothing to prevent it.”
He sighed. “I know.”
“And it's not a problem,” she said. “I like kids, remember?”
This time the smile that curved his lips looked genuine. “So do I. Don't worry, Riley. I realize you aren't a part of either of those cultures. Realistically, neither am I anymore. Any babies we have will stay with us until they're grown, I promise. I wouldn't ask anything else of you.”
“Good,” Riley said. “Now, I believe you were explaining to me why you're no longer part of either culture?”
His grin disappeared. Wow. This must be really hard for him. Riley reached over and laid a hand on Russell's, stroking the skin on the backs of his fingers.
“Yeah, well. I'm a freak, or so they say. I shouldn't exist.”
Riley's eyebrows drew together as confusion churned.
“See, shape-shifters don't have psychic abilities. They can change shapes, detect scents. Anything a bear can do, a shifter can do, but not sending and receiving thoughts. That's inherited from my father's side. It's a human ability. Up to this point, there was no crossover between the abilities. Shifters aren't psychic and psychics don't shift. When I reached puberty and began sending thoughts to the other bears, they realized I wasn't normal and sent me to my father. But it created a conundrum, because I didn't have control over my shifting abilities either. One minute, I'd look like a youth, the next like a polar bear. It freaked people out. So the bears don't want me because I'm psychic, but the humans don't want me because I'm a bear. I'm screwed. Didn't you ever wonder why I would chose to live among white people? It wasn't for the money, I promise you.”
Riley blinked. “That's pretty sad.”
“You're telling me,” Russell replied. “I didn't like being cast out of the Winter River shifter community. Especially not when the Den'a village was no more welcoming.”
“I'm sorry, honey,” Riley said, her stroking fingers taking in his whole hand.
“It's long in the past,” he replied. “They both tolerate me – barely. And I have a good job I love and now…” He lifted her hand to his lips. “Now I also have a beautiful mate I love. So really, life isn't bad.”
“Hurry home,” Riley urged. He'll never admit how much it still bothers him, but I want to make it better.
His tongue snaked out and teased the tender skin between her knuckles. She shivered.
The remaining fifteen minutes of the flight seemed to last fifteen hours. By the time the plane bumped to a stop in Golden and Russell helped Riley to the ground, she was nearly quivering with anticipation, and they still had a long snowmobile ride ahead of them. Grinding her teeth, she dragged Russell around the back of the district's transportation building: a shed large enough to house the tiny plane and one single school bus. Out back, Russell's snowmobile had been chained to a tree.
He chuckled as she tapped her foot impatiently, twirling the lock with slow deliberation that made her want to scream.
“Glad to hear you're feeling happier,” she snapped.
“My girl is in a hurry to make love. Why would I not be happy?” he teased.
“Stop it,” Riley hissed, clapping her gloves onto cheeks that should have been much, much colder. The touch of icy leather on her skin only intensified the burn. “Someone might hear.”
“Riley, honey,” he said as he rolled up the chain and tucked it into the compartment under the seat, “we live together. People have already guessed we're sleeping together. Are you really that embarrassed?”
Riley made a face. “Not really, I guess. I just feel like… I feel like it should be private.”
He caught her chin in one hand and kissed her lips. “Okay, shy baby. We'll be a picture of discretion… in public. But once I get you home… watch out.”
“Sounds perfect,” Riley agreed, wrinkling her nose.
“Climb on, Riley-girl,” Russ urged. “Let's get home where we can be indiscreet in private.”
Riley straddled the snowmobile and Russell fired the engine, ro
aring down the snowy street and out of town. She cuddled against his back, imagining she could feel his body heat through all the layers of their clothing. “I love you,” she murmured into his jacket, even though she knew he couldn't hear over the roar of the engine. Not even with his powerful ursine hearing. Long as the flight had taken, the ride took even longer. Riley, still adjusting to her relationship, hungered to be as close to Russell as possible.
At least now, huddled against his back, they were touching.
About five lifetimes later, they pulled to a halt in front of the cabin. Riley had adjusted to riding on the snowmobile and no longer ached and wobbled when she climbed off. Fishing the keys out of his pocket, she hurried to unlock the cabin door while he parked the snowmobile in the shed.
The inside of their home was cold and dark after spending the day standing empty, and Riley turned on all the lights in the great room before approaching the fireplace. Contemplating the empty grate, she wondered if she'd learned enough from watching Russ do this to manage it herself. Then, not wanting to burn the house down, she gave up and turned to the thermostat, setting the central heating to a more comfortable temperature. The machine came to life with a whooshing hum and a blast of moving air.
By that time, Russell had made his way into the room and took Riley in his arms.
“What would you like for dinner?” he asked.
“You,” she replied, tugging him down so she could kiss his lips.
“Hey, wait!” he protested, laughing. “I'm the predator here.”
She arched her eyebrow. “Humans eat bears. I'm the apex predator in this room.”
Laughing, they stripped off their outerwear, hanging jackets on the coat rack inside the door, leaving their boots on the welcome mat. When Riley removed her hat, she knew her static laden hair had begun to fly in all directions. Russell's snicker confirmed it. Of course, his neatly trimmed white strands stayed exactly in place.
“That's it,” she muttered, trying to flatten the runaway strands. “I'm getting a buzz cut.”
“Don't you dare,” Russell insisted, his bear growling a warning through his human lips.
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