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Protector Bear

Page 8

by Raines, Harmony


  Hunter dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “Happy endings are more common than you think, and we will have one and so will Horatio and Michaela if it’s possible.”

  “Let’s try to make the almost impossible, possible.” She tilted her head back and gazed up at him. “Did you find anything other than a lot of trees?”

  “I looked for landmarks. Places a child might hide.” Hunter leaned against the counter, his expression troubled. “I suppose I’m trying to figure out why the children didn’t try to find their way back to civilization. Did they get lost, or did they stay lost for a reason?”

  “They might be scared. Injured. Perhaps one of them is too small to walk far.” Cynthia thought of the multitude of reasons a child might not try to get home. “Cracol’s men might have threatened them. Violence either toward the children themselves or their families. I’ve spoken to children who kept quiet about abuse, simply because their abuser told them if they spoke out, their mom or dad would be killed.”

  Hunter rubbed his chin, his eyes dark with anger. “Bastards.”

  “There are a lot of bad people out there, who will say or do anything to get what they want. But there are more good people. Many more. People who will help others.” She shrugged. “Maybe Horatio found someone like that who took them in.”

  “But who didn’t get in touch with the authorities?” Hunter asked.

  “When we find him, we’ll ask.” She smiled softly. “Let’s go. I can’t wait to meet Jake and Marion. I know how much adopting them means to Jenna and Flint.”

  “Okay. Give me two minutes and I’ll be ready.” He crossed the kitchen, pecked her on the cheek and went upstairs. Cynthia pressed her hand to her cheek, his kiss seemed to sear her skin, but there was no mark there. She could not deny the feelings he evoked in her. They were meant to be together, she could feel it in her soul.

  Yet she didn’t know if she was ready to have a deep and meaningful long-term relationship. Raising her children was her priority and she’d decided to do so alone. If she continued with her career, her time would be split between the children and her job. Would she ever find the time to be a good wife, too?

  Scared. That was her problem, she was scared of commitment, scared of losing the man she loved again.

  And that was natural. It was also something she had to deal with and come to terms with. The chances of her losing a man she loved again were slim. Lightning rarely struck twice.

  “We’re ready!” Laurel ran down the stairs, with Thomas behind her.

  “That’s an interesting combination,” Cynthia told her son, who wore a pair of sweatpants coupled with a button-up shirt.

  “You didn’t pack any good pants,” Thomas told Cynthia.

  “Why don’t you wear a pair of jeans?” Cynthia suggested.

  “You always say jeans and a button-up shirt don’t make for a smart outfit,” Thomas said.

  “Is that right?” Hunter stood at the top of the stairs in a pair of jeans and a button-up shirt.

  “I might have. Once.” She swallowed hard. Hunter looked as sexy as hell and she longed to unbutton his shirt one button at a time. “But you two handsome men have shown me the error of my ways.”

  “So I’ll go put jeans on?” Thomas asked.

  “I think jeans would look better than sweats with that shirt.” Cynthia held out her arms. “But before you go, can I get a hug from you two? I want to store them up since I’ll be missing you so much for a few days.”

  The children launched themselves at her and she held them close.

  “You’ll do great, Mom. You’ll find the children and bring them home to their parents.” Laurel buried her face in Cynthia’s neck while Thomas hugged her as tight as his small arms allowed.

  “I’ll do my best,” Cynthia promised. “I’ll do my best.”

  Chapter Ten – Hunter

  “So jeans and a button-up shirt not your thing?” Hunter asked as they left his house and walked to his car. The children were running around in the gathering twilight, letting off some steam before they went for dinner at Flint’s house.

  Cynthia chuckled. “Oh, that.”

  “Yes, that.” He held out his hands and indicated his shirt and jeans. “What’s wrong with this look?”

  Cynthia held up her hands and lowered her voice. “In my defense, when I made that comment, Thomas was wearing the most lurid Hawaiian shirt you’ve ever seen.” She shrugged. “So I told him he couldn’t wear a button-up shirt with his jeans.”

  “Hawaiian shirt, those can get pretty wild.” Hunter nodded in agreement before wagging his finger at Cynthia. “But a mother should never dictate what her child wears. They have to learn to express themselves,” he teased.

  “This was to a friend’s smart-casual dinner. She’d have thrown a fit if Thomas had arrived in the shirt.” Cynthia laughed at the memory. It was good to see her happier and more relaxed.

  “I was joking, a mother, or a father for that matter, has to guide their children through life. You’re a good mom.” Hunter opened the car door and leaned against it.

  “I’m an okay Mom. I think if I had to do it all over again, I would do things differently.”

  “Hey.” He slipped his arms around her waist. “Take the compliment.”

  She leaned her head on his chest, stifling a sob. “It’s been hard, you know, being alone.”

  He placed his hand on the nape of her neck. “But you did it, and they are good kids, well-grounded and capable of thinking for themselves. You did good. Don’t beat yourself up about things you can’t change.” He kissed her neck, and she trembled, her arms encircling his waist as they stood together, the sound of children’s laughter filling the silence.

  “Thank you.” She lifted her head and looked at him. “Sometimes you need to hear those words to believe it.”

  “You are welcome.” He inclined his head toward the car. “We do need to go.”

  “Laurel, Thomas, time to go,” Cynthia called.

  “Coming!” Thomas swung around and ran toward the car, while Laurel did one more loop of the house.

  “In you go.” Cynthia helped her son into the car and then turned around to look for Laurel. “Where is she? Laurel!”

  Panic swept over her and she half ran, half stumbled forward toward the house. Hunter came around the car to stand by her side. He lifted his head and scanned the area. Nothing but Laurel and a couple of bunny rabbits running for cover.

  “She’s there, it’s okay.” He placed a hand on Cynthia’s shoulder as Laurel came rushing around the side of the house, her face alight with excitement.

  “Rabbits!” She pointed back around the side of the house. “There were rabbits eating the grass.”

  Cynthia took a deep breath, was she going to tell Laurel off for taking too long? She let her breath out and the tension in her shoulders dissipated. “Wow, rabbits. I didn’t know they would be brave enough to live that close to a fierce bear shifter.”

  Hunter chuckled. “What can I say? I’m a pushover really. Unless anyone tries to hurt those under my protection.”

  They all got into the car, although Cynthia’s face looked a little flushed, she looked relaxed and happy. Hunter wanted to sweep all her pain and anguish away. It wasn’t fair that she’d worked so hard and sacrificed so much to bring down a man like Cracol only to be left blaming herself for the missing children.

  The journey to Flint’s house passed quickly as Hunter told the children about the area they lived in and the story about Calder and Elia. Calder Harrahand was one of the first people to live in Bear Creek and he was part of the very history of the town and surrounding area.

  “There’s a display in the museum we could go and see when your mom and I get back,” he told them. “It’s great, there are life-sized models of Calder and Elia.”

  “I wonder where shifters came from,” Laurel asked. “We never learned about them when Mrs. Fennel taught us about the human body.”

  “I bet you didn’t,” C
ynthia said. “Maybe we should give her a lesson on shifters.”

  “No, they are a secret,” Thomas said. “And we have to keep their secret just the same as we would have to keep Spiderman’s or Superman’s identity secret.”

  “Good point,” Cynthia said as they arrived at the house. “I wonder how Jake and Marion will react when Jenna and Flint tell them about shifters.”

  “I’m sure they’ll be just fine,” Hunter said. “Once they are settled in and know that Jenna and Flint are there for them, they’ll be just fine.”

  “So Jenna and Flint aren’t their parents?” Thomas asked.

  “No, they are being fostered by Jenna and Flint until the adoption goes through,” Cynthia explained patiently. “Which means they either didn’t have any parents or their parents didn’t want them.”

  “You would never not want us, would you, Mommy?” Thomas asked, troubled by this information.

  “No, never. But sometimes things happen beyond our control.” Cynthia half turned in her seat. “It doesn’t mean their parents loved them any less.”

  “Shall we go and meet them?” Hunter asked, breaking the tension in the car. This small family had been through a lot and sometimes it seemed as if they were hanging on a knife edge. No wonder Cynthia was unsure about leaving them.

  “Yes, let’s.” Cynthia got out of the car and the children followed. “Do you want to carry the desserts?”

  “Yes, I’ll carry the chocolate dessert,” Thomas offered.

  “Of course.” Laurel rolled her eyes. “I’ll carry the candy, too.”

  They approached the house, and the front door opened. Flint appeared in the doorway, waving as they walked up the driveway. “Just in time, Jenna’s just about finished cooking.”

  “We brought dessert.” Thomas held out the chocolate cake as an offering to Flint.

  “So you did.” Flint bent down and took the dessert from Thomas. “This looks wonderful.”

  “Dinner smells wonderful, too.” Cynthia kissed Flint on the cheek. “Does Jenna need a hand?”

  “She told me she had it all under control.” He didn’t sound convinced. “She wants everything to be perfect, she thinks she should be able to cope with motherhood and the house and work. I’ve tried to explain these things take time. It’s been a big upheaval for all of us.”

  “She wants to be a superwoman to match your superman.” Cynthia squeezed past Flint. “Can you look after the children, and I’ll go see Jenna? With the desserts.”

  Flint handed over his dessert and then Cynthia took the other one from Laurel and headed into the house, leaving Hunter with the children and Flint. “Come in, come and meet Jake and Marion.”

  “Okay, guys.” Hunter waited for the children to follow Flint and then took one last look outside and followed, making sure the door was firmly shut behind him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, but when he pushed his well-honed senses out, he couldn’t sense any danger.

  “Everything okay, Hunter?” Flint asked. He was waiting in the doorway leading to the sitting room.

  “Yes, everything is fine. Habit.” He tried to explain it away, but Flint’s eyes narrowed, he wasn’t fooled. “I’ll get the kids settled and then we’ll talk.”

  “After dinner,” Hunter told his boss. “There are a few things we need to discuss.”

  Flint nodded and then opened the door. “Let’s go. I hope you two like Jake and Marion.”

  “I’m sure they’ll get along fine,” Hunter assured a nervous-looking Flint.

  Flint opened the door into the sitting room, where two dark-haired children sat watching TV. They both looked up nervously and Jake reached out for Marion’s hand as the strangers walked in. They’d been through an ordeal and learned to depend on themselves and each other. Hunter could appreciate how difficult this transition must be, from orphans with no parents who had been used by child traffickers, to moving into a new home with two people who wanted to be their new parents.

  Strange and awkward at best, his bear agreed.

  “Hello, Jake, Marion.” Hunter entered the room, keeping his body language relaxed and open. He didn’t want to tense up and appear hostile.

  “Hello,” Jake said, his eyes quickly assessing Hunter before moving on to the two children.

  “I’m Hunter.”

  “Are you?” Marion asked quietly.

  “Am I what?” Then his expression cleared. “A hunter? No. Well, not in a bad sense. But I can hunt pretty good if I have to.”

  “What kind of things do you hunt?” Thomas asked.

  “I... I sometimes hunt people who try to hurt the person I’m protecting.” Hunter fumbled for something to say.

  Because I usually do the hunting, his bear reminded Hunter.

  As if he didn’t know.

  “You’re a bodyguard, too?” Jake asked.

  “Yes, I am. Although I’m not as experienced as Flint.” Hunter approached a chair across the room from Jake and Marion. “Do you mind if I sit down?”

  “No, go ahead.” Jake shuffled a little further away.

  Laurel and Thomas moved closer to Hunter, the room charged with tension and Jake sized them up. Hunter’s eyes narrowed as he assessed Jake, then he glanced up at Flint who raised an eyebrow. This was a test, if Hunter wasn’t mistaken.

  “I live up in the mountains,” Hunter went on. “A little higher than this house. I often go out on the mountains and hunt there, too. But mostly I like to track. You know, big animals. Bears, wolves, the occasional lion.”

  Jake glanced at Marion, who’s almond-shaped amber eyes stared steadily at Hunter. “What do you do if you track a big animal?”

  “Say hi to them. They’re often my friends. You know, who like to shift and go up in the mountains for some downtime.” Hunter watched Jake and Marion closely, while Thomas, who was perched on the arm of the chair, gasped and swung his head around to look at Hunter. “It’s okay, I think Jake and Marion know exactly what I’m talking about.”

  “We might,” Jake agreed, and Marion visibly relaxed.

  “Our mom was a snow leopard,” Marion said. “I don’t know what happened to her, one night she never came home.”

  “And that’s how you ended up being sent to foster care?” Flint asked.

  Marion nodded and moved closer to Jake. “We never got there.”

  “But now you have Flint and Jenna to protect you both,” Thomas said. “Just like they protected me and Laurel from the bad men.”

  Hunter surveyed the two children on the sofa, they couldn’t have been more than eight or nine, it was a miracle they had survived and not been sold. Or maybe Cracol knew about shifters and planned to keep them until they were old enough to shift. “Did the men who took you know you were shifters?”

  Jake shook his head and gave Marion a warning look. “I told Marion not to say anything. To anyone. It was our secret.”

  “Good plan.” Flint nodded.

  Jake looked a little relieved. “Are you shifters?”

  “We are. Both of us.” Flint glanced toward the kitchen. “Jenna and Cynthia aren’t, but they know about shifters.”

  “Jenna is your mate?” Marion asked her foster father.

  “She is. And she’s great with children if you give her a chance,” Flint told them pointedly.

  “I suppose we could,” Jake again sounded relieved, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders and transferred to Flint’s.

  “We want to make this a great home for you and Marion. I realize you find it strange.” Flint approached the children cautiously, as if scared he might frighten them away. “We promise to try our best.”

  “We know, the lady from social services, Fiona, said you were nice and kind. That you would be good parents.” Marion’s voice broke and she buried her face in Jake’s shoulder.

  “We don’t want to replace your parents,” Jenna stood in the doorway, with Cynthia behind her. “But we want to help you and give you a home and a new family.”

>   “It’s difficult to trust people after what you’ve been through,” Flint said gently, although his gruff voice rasped like metal grinding against metal.

  “But you can trust Flint and Jenna,” Laurel said. “We know because they helped us when the bad men came for us.”

  “I wish someone had been there for us when the bad men came,” Jake said, sounding young and vulnerable.

  “We’re here now,” Jenna came around and knelt in front of the sofa. “Please, give us a chance.”

  Marion looked at Jake and nodded. “I suppose.”

  Jenna hugged them both briefly and then let them go. “Come on, dinner is ready.”

  “And then we can have dessert,” Thomas said happily.

  “And candy,” Laurel reminded her brother.

  Hunter wished all children could have a happy childhood where their only worry was whether there was a chocolate dessert after their meal. But Cynthia was right, happy endings were rare. Not as rare as unicorns, but rare enough that you had to grab hold of them and not let go when one drifted past.

  Chapter Eleven – Cynthia

  “You think it’s a trap?” Jenna asked as the adults drank coffee and the children played in the sitting room. Since Jake and Marion’s admission that they were shifters, they seemed to have let their defenses down.

  “Hunter believes someone is setting me up.” Cynthia was tired, her head had been going around and around in circles since Hunter told her his suspicions earlier. Like a dog chasing its tail.

  “How could they know you would go to the forest?” Flint asked. “How could the person who sent you the letter know you would go back to the farmhouse?”

  “Perhaps they knew I’d likely talk to Michaela.” Cynthia looked down at her hands, which grasped her coffee cup much too tightly. But she needed to feel the warmth through her fingers. “Michaela has been vocal about how the police have let her down and how the investigation should not have become public until the police had raided all the places the children were being held. She has a point.”

  “How did the investigation become public?” Jenna asked. “When we saw it on the news with your name linked to it, we assumed you broke the story.”

 

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