by Robyn Carr
He absently wiped the bar. “It’s not the process that bugs me,” he said. “Understand, it’s not the process. I think the fact that this can happen at all—this surrogate thing—this is a gift from God. If Mel came to me—you know, when we met—without that uterus, and wanted a baby bad enough to do it the surrogate way, oh, hell, yes, I’d do anything for her. You know that, right? That I’d do anything for her? But I don’t know if I’d be helping her much by going along with this. I’m not sure where this is coming from.”
“Well, you better find out, Jack. Talk to her.”
“Brie, she’s not exactly talking to me. She’s waiting for me to come around. When I bring the subject up, she just asks me to keep an open mind. She wants me to discuss my reservations with John Stone.”
“Then talk to John. But don’t let this thing fester between you. I’m dangerously close to getting in the middle of it, and I don’t want to be there.”
Out of sheer boredom, Erin decided to bake chocolate-chip cookies. She thought if she had them on hand and Aiden showed up, she could give him some to share with his friend Art. She could also freeze a bunch—Marcie and Ian were planning to come up for the next long weekend and Marcie loved chocolate-chip cookies.
June was growing old, she was on her fourth week in the cabin and she had stacked all the inner-growth books in a corner to be given away. On the deck beside her chaise where she relaxed between cookie batches was a tall glass of tea and a paperback with a pair of long, shapely female legs on the cover and a provocative title. Marcie was right about one thing—the damn book totally had her! Nothing like seduction to totally seduce her. She smiled to herself—she might just be learning this relaxation thing.
She had a huge bowl of cookie dough on the counter and when the timer went off, she went inside to scrape hot cookies off the cookie sheet onto the counter and make another batch. She inhaled deeply; the aroma was heavenly. Erin had a pretty healthy sweet tooth that she kept under control, but there was absolutely nothing quite as alluring as that fresh-cookie smell. After sliding a sheet of cookies into the oven, she dashed into the bathroom. Ah, how fantastic that she wasn’t going to the loo out back! Besides, it was a spectacular bathroom for a cabin and she was proud of it.
Before she came out, she heard a noise and wondered if a hearty breeze was blowing things around in the kitchen. There was a bad smell. It almost hinted at a plumbing problem. Or perhaps that breeze had picked up a bit of garbage on its way through the French doors. When she came out of the bathroom she saw it was not a breeze.
It was a bear.
It was a very large bear—and he was eating her cookies and cookie dough, scooping it up with hands that sported long, dangerous claws.
She yelped in surprise and the bear lifted his head out of the bowl and it sounded like he belched. That’s when Erin screamed.
She ran back into the bathroom and slammed the door, locking it. Then she dashed through the adjoining door to the bedroom and slammed that door. To be safe, she pushed the chest from the end of her bed up against the bedroom door. Then she closed the door that joined the bath to the bedroom and pushed her bureau in front of it. That was it—all the movable furniture she had. And it wasn’t all that heavy.
Then she sat on the foot of her bed and said, “Fuck.”
She hadn’t even considered this possibility—a bear. Marcie had told her a story about a mountain lion trapping her in the outhouse. From that point on, Marcie had carried the iron skillet with her whenever she was outside. For that reason, Erin always had that big skillet with her. But while Marcie was just the type to plaster a threatening wild animal in the head with a skillet, Erin was more the type to squeal and run.
She remembered she had cookies in the oven. Oh, this is rich, she thought. The cabin is going to burn down and me with it. Hopefully the bear dies first. Maybe I can get away before it’s all one big ash.
She did a mental inventory; there was only one phone—a cordless that was on its base in the kitchen. The computer was actually running—and it was out there, too. If her car keys were in the bedroom, she could climb out the window and make a dash for the SUV, but of course the keys were in their assigned place, on the hook by the door. Erin was very well organized and tidy—a place for everything and everything in its place.
There was a crash and she winced. She jumped off the end of the bed and started for the door to scream at the damn bear. This was a terrific lesson for Erin—for just a moment she was more concerned about the bear trashing the place than about it mauling her or burning the cabin down.
She forced herself to sit down. Then she flopped back on the bed. “I hate my life,” she said out loud. “If I live through this I’m going home and back to work and I’m never doing anything like this again.” There was another crash. Oh, that sounded like something very expensive. She lay there in misery for a long time. She could hear him moving around out there.
There was a little tapping at her bedroom window. She sat up and listened. Yes, a very light tapping. Would a nine-foot-tall black bear high on chocolate tap at the window? Wouldn’t he just tear off the door and eat her? She crept quietly and carefully to the window and peered through the tiniest slit.
And saw green eyes and a red beard.
She opened the shutters and the window. “Aiden!”
“Hi,” he said. “There’s a bear in the kitchen.”
“Run, Aiden! Run!”
“I’m going to come in, but you have to give me a hand. Help me take off the screen, then I’m going to throw my stuff inside and climb in. You might have to pull me—this window’s kinda high.”
“Why?” she asked, backing away a little.
He shrugged. “Well, first of all, there’s smoke coming from the kitchen. And I was thinking about a beer.”
“There’s a bear in the kitchen!” she whispered furiously.
“Yeah. We better get him outta there.” They pried off the screen and he threw his backpack and machete through the window. Then he leaped at the opening, got his arms locked on the bottom sill, pulled himself up and somersaulted right into the bedroom.
Erin got out of his way. The second he was sitting on the floor, she closed the window and the shutters. Then she crossed her arms over her chest. “Great. Now we’re both held hostage in the bedroom.”
“How long has he been out there?” Aiden asked, getting to his feet.
“I don’t know. Half an hour?” There was another crash and again she winced. “He’s obviously done eating and is busy tearing up the place. I swear to God, if he shits on my Aubusson carpet, I’ll kill him with my bare hands!”
Aiden couldn’t help but laugh as he dug around in his backpack. He pulled out what looked like a large can of hair spray or a small fire extinguisher. “Do you have anything in here that would make a loud noise, kind of like a metal spoon clanging inside an aluminum soup pot?”
“Huh?”
“They don’t like that. This is repellent. A little clanging and some repellent and they usually just run off.”
“Usually?”
“What are the options? I’ve been thinking about that beer all week.”
“I know you have easier ways to get a beer.” She sneered.
“You’re right. Should I take my repellent, climb back out the window and leave you here to rot? You can sit in your bedroom until someone passes by and smells your decomposing body. Or—you can find me something that clangs!”
“I don’t have anything in here that clangs!”
Aiden looked around, doing a three-sixty of the bedroom. His eyes stopped in the corner. He went over to a fancy potted tree; he opened the shutters and window, dumped a three-foot tree upside down out the window and banged the empty pot on the side of the house to get rid of the excess dirt.
“Hey!” she yelled. “That’s brass!”
He walked toward the bedroom door with his arsenal in hand—brass pot and tall can of repellent. “Brass, brass, could save your ass…
” He pushed the chest away from the door. “Erin, listen to me. Do not scream. It’s a black bear and I didn’t see a cub, so it should just run off. But don’t scream and get it riled up. It could make him or her feel threatened.”
“I already screamed at it,” she informed him. “He didn’t run off! Maybe he doesn’t know he’s a black bear!”
“Just stay in the bedroom. Quietly.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to step into the next room and clang. If he comes at me I’m going to spray his eyes with this pepper spray. Then I’m going to have a beer.”
“Oh God…”
“Yeah, praying works…” He opened the door, looking into the room. “Oh, good,” he said quietly.
The bear was exiting the house through the opened French doors. On the one hand it was probably best to just let him go, but on the other—would he remember where to find the food? Aiden hated to think of Erin lounging in her hammock, dozing, while a bear rummaged around in her house. But Aiden didn’t have a lot of experience with bears. He’d have to ask someone.
He let the bear lumber off. He wasn’t a very big bear—six feet. Had to be a guy—in spring and summer the females came with at least one cub, unless she was a teenager and hadn’t mated yet. Aiden followed slowly, cautiously. He got all the way to the deck in time to see the furry guy disappear into the woods. Then he put his pot and can of repellent on the table, picked up Erin’s glass of tea and her book and closed the French doors. He looked curiously at the book, lifting one eyebrow.
Then he rescued the charred cookies and turned off the oven.
“Is it safe?” he heard from within the house.
“Well, unless you wanted a cookie. There were some casualties.”
“The bear?”
“His work here was done,” Aiden said. “He was alone and he’s gone.”
Erin walked into the great room. She looked around—the giant bowl she’d used to mix the cookie batter was in pieces on the floor, a chair was turned over, a cookie sheet was across the room on the floor. The three crashes were minor losses and the bear was gone.
“I’m getting the hell out of here,” she muttered.
Aiden stooped to pick up the pieces of broken ceramic bowl. He dumped them in the trash. No mess there. The bear had cleaned it thoroughly. “You don’t have to.” He picked up her paperback. “I rescued your dirty book,” he said with a smile.
“It’s not dirty!”
“Oh? Too bad. It looks pretty good.”
“It’s just a…a…women’s book…you know…”
He pulled a couple of beers out of the refrigerator. He took the tops off two bottles and handed her one. “I’d like to sit out on your deck with this,” he said. “Especially since I walked ten miles to get here today and I know I’m not wearing your fragrance, but under the circumstances, maybe we’ll just stay in. What do you say?”
“I’m getting the hell out of here!” But she took the beer; then she took a slug.
“It’ll be okay, Erin,” he said softly. “He’s gone. I’ll leave you the repellent. They don’t have grizzlies around here. Black bears will usually run off unless you’re between a mother and cub. Apparently they like chocolate-chip cookies. I don’t suppose you tucked any away before Yogi came in?”
“No! And you can be damn sure I’m not making any more!”
He pulled out a chair from the kitchen table. She pulled out a chair and sat. He leaned toward her. “You don’t have to go. If the doors are closed, I don’t think they’ll break in. Well, a raccoon might sneak in, but they’ll often run if you just bang a pot.”
“Do you have any idea what you’re saying?” she asked.
“I’m saying—don’t go, Erin. Just give it a few more days and you’ll see—the wildlife won’t bother you if you’re unobtrusive. If you see a bear, bang a spoon inside a soup pot. Really, they don’t like people.”
She frowned. “Unobtrusive? What kind of a word is that for an EMT to use?” she asked.
He lifted a brow and grinned. “Big?” he asked hopefully.
“I don’t know. I should pack and start driving….”
“Don’t,” he said. “We can have some fun, you and me….”
“I haven’t seen you in days! I’m going—”
“The family was gathering and I had to help. To tell you the truth, they’re already on my nerves. But I think they’re all settled in now. Stay a few more days at least.”
She leaned toward him. “Why?” she asked earnestly.
He shrugged. “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve seen in Virgin River.” He grinned. “I’ll leave you the repellent, but you’ll have to drive me to town. There’s a bear hopped up on chocolate out there and I’ll be unarmed.” He leaned toward her. “Listen, take your phone and repellent into the bedroom and close those doors when you go to bed tonight. Put the dresser in front of the door if you want to. Make sure you don’t have any food or garbage out where a bear could smell it or get to it, and see if you don’t feel better about this in a day or two. You can always call the sheriff’s department and tell them a bear got right in your house—they might put out an alert, just in case it’s a troublemaker.”
“My good sense says that staying would be taking a ridiculous chance.”
“Really,” he said. “Don’t go. Not yet. Honest—I wouldn’t suggest it if I thought there was any real danger.”
She thought for a minute, then she shook her head and said, “If a bear eats me, you’re going to feel terrible.”
“I think if you leave I’ll feel terrible.”
Luke Riordan had always been an early riser, but it was definitely more pronounced now that he had a wife in the late stages of pregnancy. It was hard for Shelby to get comfortable, or stay comfortable, and sometimes she was up in the night rooting around for Tums or ice cream for the heartburn that inevitably settled in after she’d been lying down.
He had no complaints about the lack of sleep or the early hours. He wished she could have it easier, of course. It looked to him as if she was carrying way too heavy a load for her small frame, and he had concerns about her being able to give birth to his son. That kid was ready to ride a skateboard out of Shelby, and she still had at least a couple of weeks to go! Fortunately he was surrounded by experts. Mel said, “Yeah, I think I was pretty much that size or worse—amazing, isn’t it?” Jack said, “I feel your pain, my brother.” Aiden said, “She’s sure getting there, isn’t she?” No one was panicked, so he decided not to panic.
He woke early, wandered through the cabin area with a cup of coffee, checking out the grounds, which were usually peaceful at that hour of the morning. After just a couple of nights with the RV in the compound, George and his mother had taken it over to Noah’s place so they could spend some quality time with George’s family. Then they had reservations at an RV park in Fortuna where they could get a hookup, which meant their plumbing and electricity would be maintained by the park. Much more convenient. And since they had towed his mother’s small sedan, they had no trouble getting around without dragging their entire house with them.
Sean, Franci and Rosie weren’t up and about yet. Art wasn’t a real early riser. Aiden had begged off dinner the night before, saying he was going over to the coast and would get something to eat over there. There was nothing mysterious about that. Why would a thirty-six-year-old bachelor feel like spending night after night with his brother and incredibly pregnant sister-in-law?
But as Luke walked past Aiden’s SUV, he noticed the man had the backseat collapsed and there were a couple of new bikes in there. He peered into the window and saw they were trail bikes, a boy bike and a girl bike. Interesting. Couple of helmets there, as well. And there was a basket thingie—like something that attached to a bike. A picnic basket? Luke wondered. Well, how precious.
While Luke was standing there with his cup of coffee, the door to Aiden’s cabin opened and he came out. Luke nearly stepped back in shock. Ai
den was clean shaven. He didn’t even look like the same man. With that beard gone and his black hair trimmed, Aiden didn’t look capable of producing that big red bush on his face. “Whoa,” Luke said.
“It got a little itchy,” Aiden said.
Luke just grinned. “You lyin’ sack of shit. You did it for a woman!”
“Get real,” Aiden said.
“Who is she? You meet someone over on the coast?”
“Nah. I just got tired of looking like a vagrant, that’s all. And Mom hated it.”
Luke laughed heartily at that. “You are so full of shit,” he said too loudly. “You have a boy bike and a girl bike and a fucking picnic basket in your car!”
Aiden stood still and glared at Luke. Aiden might not be the oldest, but he was very good at affecting a superior expression. “This camp isn’t going to get five stars in the AAA brochure if you wake the guests at dawn with your asinine guffawing,” he said.
“I would’a loaned you the Harley, Aiden, so you could take your woman on a manly ride,” he said, grinning widely. “All you had to do was ask.”
“Those manly rides crack heads and break femurs,” the doctor replied.
“Yeah? Wait till one of those logging trucks tries to pass you while you’re on one of those pussy things. You’ll wish you had my Harley under you.”
“You about done?” Aiden asked.
“Not even getting started,” Luke said with a laugh. “Come on—who is she? What did you find over on the coast? And how long ago? When do you expect to be home? We have a curfew around here, you know.”
Aiden walked around Luke, lifted the hatch and reached inside to pull out his nifty new basket. He closed the hatch and went back into his cabin. “Don’t wait up, asshole,” he said over his shoulder. He slammed the cabin door. For someone who advocated quiet for the guests, he wasn’t being particularly considerate.
Luke laughed again with delight—Aiden had a female somewhere. Big surprise—Riordan men didn’t have dicks so much as divining rods. And they had always taken great pleasure in their brothers’ conquests, provided they weren’t total nutcases. Unfortunately, there had been some memorable ones.