“You didn’t even want to date me.” Her voice was tart and sad.
“I thought you had set a trap for me.”
She looked as comically bewildered as she had the day in the woods when he had walked away from her. He felt a pang of regret. “I don’t date gold diggers.” Even as he said the words he knew they were a lie. Probably every woman he had ever dated had been looking at him principally as her access point to the B&B billions. “I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot. But the spark between us is quite real. And you didn’t seem opposed this morning.”
She pressed her hands under her armpits and bit her lip again.
He sat down in one of the two armchairs and waved a hand at the other one. “Let’s set aside the question of bed just for the moment.”
She sat opposite, her face wary. “Okay. What do you want to talk about?”
“Us. We don’t seem to have a lot in common. Except that you’re carrying my children. I never thought to be an absentee father. And the thought of my children growing up without a daddy – or with some other daddy – makes me feel pretty small.”
“It’s not just about how you feel.”
“Granted. But I am the father. And I am your husband. Maybe I’m not your idea of love’s young dream, but for better or worse we are married and you are going to have my babies. Do you want to make this work? Or are you still fixed on child support and living independently?”
She folded her arms tighter across her bosom. He didn’t think she knew how enticing that gesture was. She had the finest rack he had ever seen. And they were homegrown too. He was used to enhanced breasts, but hers were soft and bouncy. The real McCoy. No silicone implants for his bride.
He squirmed a little and hoped she wasn’t going to notice his erection. He seemed to have as little self-control around her as he had had when he was a teenage boy trying to choose between being a baritone and an alto.
“I don’t want to live with a man who doesn’t respect me. I may not be educated. But I’m not stupid. And I’m not the sort of person who likes to live in a city. I didn’t figure it out until I went to Portland, but I belong here on the Ridge. Soon as I came up here I stopped feeling sick. I guess I’m just a child of nature.”
Her words took him aback. “How do you mean Portland didn’t agree with you?”
“It’s hard to put it into words, but I’ll try. In Portland I felt hemmed in. Oppressed. I had really bad morning sickness. But I’m fine up here. Better than fine. I’m not nauseated. I’m not running to the bathroom every five seconds. And I can breathe. I never want to go back to the city.”
“Hmmm.” His whole life was in Denver. Well, except for the part where he was in the Reserves, and the part where he spent time on the ranch. “Do you think you could be happy on the Double B?”
“What’s the Double B?”
“That’s the name of the Bascom ranch. It’s Laura’s now that my great-granddaddy is dead. But I have a house there. Do you think that would be enough like living in the country?”
She looked doubtful. “I don’t know. Are there mountains?”
“Not like this. Mind it’s pretty country. Our foothills are as lovely as anything in Colorado, but they don’t look anything like Washington State.”
“My whole family is here.”
He sighed. It had never occurred to him that he was going to have to alter his whole way of life. But Heather looked so unhappy and so determined that he didn’t think forcing her to compromise would help. He had built an entire career around always knowing what the other person truly wanted and working out deals that gave it to them. Because a compromise that left both people unhappy, was a compromise that was going to blow up in your face.
Heather was in deadly earnest. She wasn’t prepared to sacrifice Yakima Ridge to be Patrick Bascom’s wife. Maybe she didn’t know how many of those hot dinners had been angling for just that. Or maybe she knew, but she didn’t think the prize was worth her efforts. Which was shaming.
He drew in a deep breath. “Tell you what, we’ll try staying here. I don’t mean in this cabin. I need somewhere I can work from. I do have a job. And to do it I need a phone and the Internet.”
Her dark eyebrows snapped together. “Just like that?”
He shrugged. “My best friend is the CEO of B&B. Which means I have pull with the boss. Calvin won’t like it if I choose to stay here. And he’ll probably insist that I go to Denver once a week. But it’s doable. If we can find someplace to live that suits you. Someplace like Debbie and Gilbert’s house.”
“I’d rather be up on the mountain. Like Jenna and Zeke.”
“That might work too. But I thought Jenna’s cabin was built on someone else’s land?”
Heather nodded. “It’s built on clan land. When Jenna asked for her own land to build a house, all the men acted like she had asked to fly. As if she was going to build a house on clan land and then move someplace else.”
She rolled her eyes. “But Joey Benoit said she could have a couple of acres of his land. She built her house there.” Heather made another face and her voice was bitter. “I’ll bet if you ask for clan land, they’ll give it to you no questions asked – just because you’re a guy – even though you’re from away.”
* * *
Had it really been that easy? Patrick had caved without a fight. Should she believe that he intended to live on Yakima Ridge permanently? That she had won. It was what she wanted.
Up here in the woods, she felt vibrant, alive, part of the mountains. And since he had shown up, her feelings had just intensified – which frightened her. It was what everyone said happened when you met your fated mate. But how could you have a bear bond with someone like Patrick?
He was looking at her like he planned to eat her. The thought made her face flame hotter. His lips quirked like he found her amusing.
“Are you laughing at me?”
“At myself. Do you really think that if I demand a share of the clan lands that your kinsmen are going to hand some over just like that?” He raised his eyebrows at her. They were no longer two smooth and unlikely arches over his eyes, they were heavier and straighter and met over his nose. It made him look more like a Bascom. More like Asher and Gideon. Like a man instead of a model. A sexy man.
“They are pretty sexist,” she said. “Who knows?”
“I think asking would be outrageous,” he said. “We might buy some.”
“You can’t buy clan land. It’s all held in a trust. But plenty of people own parcels of other land. It’s whether they’ll sell to you or not.”
“You want to go house hunting?”
“House hunting?” Somehow it had not occurred to her that that’s what she was talking about. “I guess.”
He chuckled. “You should see your face. You look like you don’t know what just happened.”
“I don’t. I didn’t expect you to start talking about buying land and houses.”
“What did you expect?” He tucked one big ankle over his knee and leaned back. He radiated masculine satisfaction. What the heck was going on?
“I expected a fight.”
He shook his head. “I don’t fight losing battles. I can tell that you mean it when you say you belong here in Washington State. But I can also tell that now that I’ve said we should give it a try, you’re scared spitless.”
“I am not.” As soon as those foolish words left her mouth she wanted to haul them back.
“What would make it easier for you?”
“I don’t want to set up housekeeping with you, right where everyone can see, and have you running off on me in a couple of weeks.”
His face changed. He went from looking amused to looking as if he had been smacked in the face. “I guess I deserve that.”
“Sorry.” But she didn’t feel sorry. How could she trust him? He was rich, and he was used to having his way. Just because he had made a single concession, didn’t mean that he had turned into a stand-up, responsible, trustwort
hy bear.
“So we’ll have to work at getting to know one another, so you can trust me.” His deep voice was confident. Just as if he thought trust could be bought in a box.
Her trouble was that she was sliding into trusting him when she knew better. His whole family were a bunch of tomcats. His father was on his fifth, or was it sixth? wife. She had looked Patrick up on the Internet. He seemed to spend a lot of time walking into fancy shindigs with a different woman on his arm every time. And none of them looked like her. They were all sleek, polished, and sophisticated. And fancy dressers. She didn’t even own a long evening dress. She wouldn’t know what to do with one if she did. Yet she felt as if every word he spoke was the truth.
“Tell me what you need,” he said.
“I don’t think it’s so simple,” she swallowed hard. “How do I know you won’t just take off to Denver?”
“How do I know you won’t run off to Portland again? Or file for divorce the second those babies are born?”
She glared at him. “I would never do any such thing. I gave you my word.”
“And I am giving you mine. Ask anyone, you can take Patrick Bascom’s word to the bank.” For the first time since they had sat down he sounded pissy.
There was obviously a defect in her character. She felt triumphant that having riled him. “Who can I ask? That’s not your close kin?”
“You wouldn’t trust Jenna?”
“Of course.”
“So ask her.” It was a dare.
“I’m not going to start wanting to go to fancy parties,” she warned him.
His eyebrows rose. “Huh?”
“I’ve seen. On the internet. You go to charity balls, and red carpet events all the time. I wouldn’t fit in.”
He nodded. “Part of my job.”
“So you’ll be going to Denver to parties without me?” That didn’t feel right to her at all.
“I guess Calvin will have to find someone else to do the society circuit. Heather, stop making objections. As I see it we have two choices – or maybe three. But if we decide we’re going to try to make our marriage work for the sake of those bear cubs, then either we have to do it here or someplace else.”
His big arms were folded across his chest. “If we stay here, you run the risk that it won’t work out and everyone will see that it hasn’t. If we go someplace else, same deal, and you get to come back here with a failed marriage. Either way folks will talk. Your family will either feel sorry for you or vindicated, depending on their natures. But suppose things work out? Suppose we wind up happy? Why are you expecting bad things?”
Because she had had a lifetime of things working out badly. “I don’t think you’ll stick to a country girl. I think you’ll decide that your hick wife doesn’t do it for you. That I don’t fit in with all your fancy friends.”
“What about all my unfancy friends?”
“Do you have any of those?”
“Honey, I grew up in Success, Colorado. I’ll match my hicks against your hicks any day.”
“Really?”
“Really and truly. And cross my heart.” He made an X across his left breast as if he were an earnest six-year-old.
“I thought you didn’t believe in fated mates?”
He began to laugh. “So that’s it. I must admit, I thought it was garbage when Gil said he had gotten married to his one true love after a thirty-year wait. And I was more than a bit skeptical when Zeke married Jenna. But the longer I’m up here, the more it looks as though this bear bond stuff is solid. I think you and I should give ourselves a chance. Particularly since there are babies involved.”
“I feel as though I can’t trust you. Look at your father.”
Patrick nodded. “We could look at him. I don’t deny Jeremy runs through women as though they were so many boxes of tissues. But on the other hand, there’s my Uncle Freddie. He and my Aunt Brenda were as happy as any two people who ever got married. And since she died – and it’s getting on for two decades – he’s never even looked at another woman. And my Uncle Freddie had as much or more to do with bringing me up as my own dad.”
“Are you saying you’re in love with me?” Now why the heck had she blurted that out?
He blushed. A really and truly blush that turned his big broad face scarlet and made the bristles on his chin look even longer. “Maybe. I certainly feel different around you. I don’t want to make you promises that I couldn’t keep. But this spark between us could turn into something else. Don’t you agree?”
“Maybe.” Or maybe he would break her heart.
“It’s risky. Maybe you’ll break my heart? Maybe we’ll break each other’s hearts?”
Point. “Maybe we’ll break our children’s hearts.”
“Be a rotten thing to do. I always thought I would do better by my children than my father did by me and Zeke.”
“Did you?”
“I did. What about you? Did you ever think you’d wind up an unmarried mother like yours?”
It took all her self-control to stay seated. She said through her teeth, “My mother was a widow when my sister and I were born. She didn’t get knocked up by some stranger.”
“Sorry. I guess I got the wrong end of the stick – again. Your Uncle Bobby made it sound as if you and your sister were abandoned by your unwed mother.”
“No. My folks were married. Daddy was KIA. And my mamma drove her car through the barrier on Wild Oak Road when I was three.”
“I guess that’s what your Uncle Bobby meant about an unfortunate situation. Hard to lose your mother.” He sighed.
“I have the whole town watching to see if I’ll kill myself too.”
“Hmm. Are you sure it was suicide?”
“The coroner classified it as an accidental death. But no one around here believes that. They’ve spent twenty years waiting for me and Amber to go crazy.”
“I lost my mother too when I was young.”
“What happened to yours?”
“She went to the hospital, had a miscarriage and died.” His voice was flat and bleak. It did not invite questions.
“That’s not supposed to happen. Not in this day and age.”
He shrugged. “I guess. And yet it did.”
Light dawned. “That’s why you keep fussing, isn’t it? Why you act as though being pregnant is an illness? You think I’m going to die!”
It was his turn to look surprised. “Huh.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
He stood up and stretched, conscious that he was showing his mate how broad and deep his chest was. Which was so unlike him as to make him wonder if there was something in the air of Yakima Ridge that was addling his brain.
His forearms looked even hairier than they had when he first rolled up his shirt sleeves. Which was impossible. Wasn’t it? This bear shifter stuff was either stronger here in Washington State or his long spell in bear had done something to him.
Heather licked her lips. They were rosy and swollen as if he had already been kissing them. They had spent the last half hour talking, but he still wasn’t sure what they had decided about his original question. Which was not like him at all. He didn’t usually let himself wander from the point.
Was she going to share her bed with him tonight?
In the lamplight, her eyes were big and the pupils dilated. Not just from the dim lighting. He suspected his own were equally large. He held out a hand to her. She put hers into it so hesitantly his heart squeezed.
He would have to be careful with her. Heather was not just young and inexperienced. She had had a lot of awful things happen to her in her short life. And it would be to his further discredit if marrying Patrick Bascom was just another in the series of hard knocks that life had dealt her.
“Should I sleep in the bedroom?” he asked.
“Husbands and wives sleep in the same bed.”
He decided not to laugh at her prim rationalization. “I’d like that.” He kissed her. Gently. Just a pledge. Not an invitation to
tussle. “Let’s lock up.”
“I’d sure like to brush my teeth first,” she said and clapped her hands over her mouth.
“Me too. I’ll go get us a couple of green twigs.” He grabbed a knife from a drawer and went out, testing it with his thumb. It was sharp.
Even this far from the river, it didn’t take long to find a willow tree. He brought twigs into the cabin and set about pounding the ends.
She stood at his elbow and watched. “I’d forgotten about that.”
“It’s a basic survival skill. Doesn’t taste too bad once you get used to it. And it works better if there some bicarbonate of soda to dip the twigs into.”
“I think there’s a plastic box somewhere.” She began to open and close the cupboard doors and returned with a small canister. “I wonder if it’s gone all hard.” It hadn’t.
“Do we have saucers?”
“Little bowls.” She put two on the counter.
“Now we just need some of your boiled water.”
“Oh, my goodness. I clean forgot. I don’t know how long this has been boiling.”
He peered into the pot. “Long enough – it’s down about an inch.”
“We’ll leave it to cool overnight.” She turned off the burner and poured a half an inch of water from the jug into two tumblers.
He wondered if she felt the same intimacy he did standing beside the kitchen sink scrubbing his teeth with his twig and the baking soda.
“I didn’t like that much.” she ran her tongue over her teeth. “But it’s better than dirty teeth.”
“If you deal with the generator I’ll make sure the door and the windows are latched.”
She was under the covers when he came out of the lean-to carrying the lantern. Her eyes were mysterious and bigger than ever. She watched him out of the corners as he took his clothes off. He had undressed before a lot of women, but her shy curiosity, which should have made him feel self-conscious about his hairy body, instead made him feel like a stud. Go figure. He lifted the blanket and got underneath. She was all pink and white curves. And her belly was swollen with his children.
* * *
Patrick smacked the top of the lantern and plunged the room into darkness. She was grateful. Her eyes adapted easily to the faint moonlight coming in the curtainless windows. As his would. That was just part of being bears.
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