Dare to Bear (Book 1 Trail Guardians Series) (11 page)

She shook her head. “I’ve felt alone so much of my life, I was tired of it. I was afraid of rocking the boat and giving him a reason to leave. I turned into a shadow of myself because I didn’t want him to dislike or reject me.” She laughed without humor. “That’s exactly what happened anyway. I’m as much to blame as him. In a way, it’s kind of freeing to recognize that. I think, from now on, I won’t keep everyone at a distance. I want to be open with others, true to myself, and if someone rejects me I know I’ll still be okay.”

“If anyone rejected you, it’s their loss,” Mason said from his heart.

“Right?” She slapped her hands on her knees. “My new motto is ‘be open, you never know who will come your way and make your world a better place.’”

Nodding humbly, he said, “That’s what I was thinking when you walked into my store. And my life is already better for having you in it.”

The features of her face softened, cheeks pink, eyes glowing with sweet trust. “I feel the same.”

“This is probably a bad time to tell you how much I want to kiss you right now.”

“Yes.” She nodded primly. “Because our fish is burning.”

Cursing under his breath, he leaped toward the fire and removed the cast iron skillet with his bare hands, setting it aside. Belatedly, he realized he’d forgotten to flinch. He risked a glance at her to see if she’d noticed. Yeah, she had. Damn.

“Mason, your hand!”

When she reached for his wrist, he pulled away. “No big deal. I hardly felt it.”

Worry pinched her forehead. “Most people would be writhing on the ground in pain.”

“I grew up in the wilderness. My hands are calloused as hell,” he said, hoping she’d drop it. While he’d told her the truth, shifters on the whole were less susceptible to physical pain. To heal a wound, he just shifted to bear form and back again. Viola, instant cell repair. Another thing that upset him about the mutated rabies virus—even shifting didn’t cure the deadly pathogen.

“Are you upset about something?” she asked between mouthfuls of fish he’d dished out for her.

He smiled at her, glad to see her eating until she felt sustained. “No, honey. It’s all good.” He ate his piece of fish then glanced at the sky, determining the time. “Do you want the last of lunch before I start packing things up?”

She went to reach for it then drew back. She tugged her shirt down over her stomach. “No, I probably shouldn’t.”

Mason considered what he knew about her past, and her current reaction. He said, “I think a woman with a healthy appetite for life is sexy.”

“Really?” For a moment she gazed at him dreamily, as if she’d suddenly fallen head over heels for him. His heart soared. “Then I’m your type.”

“I know you are,” he murmured, as she reached for the last fillet.

While she finished eating, he rinsed out the pan, gathered their gear, and strapped on his pack. Then he helped her shoulder into her own pack.

They traipsed at a gradual incline through the forest, heading back to where his instincts told him they would reunite with the Appalachian Trail. Before they could scale the incline, they encountered a thick briar patch, clustered as far as his enhanced bear eyesight could see.

“This could be a problem,” he admitted.

She came to a stop beside him and frowned. “These look like Maleficent’s scary vine curse around Sleeping Beauty’s castle.”

“Who?”

“Nevermind. It’s a Disney Princess thing. But unless you have a sword, I don’t see us making it through there.”

“Damn.” He snapped his fingers. “I knew I should’ve taken Excalibur from the sword in the stone before we left.”

She giggled. “That’s a shame. Too bad you don’t know Merlin, either. Though you would seem right at home with an owl perched on your shoulder, and even better if you could send him flying above us to see how far the tangles go.”

Mason choked on a laugh. Because, actually, he did have one of those. Except the owl’s name was Ollun. And Mason highly doubted the owl shifter had any desire to help anyone but himself.

She slid him a sidelong glance. “Is something amusing?”

“I’ll explain another time.”
Maybe
. If she chose to accept the reality of shapeshifters. “We have two options.” He jutted his thumb behind him. “We backtrack to the river, and then make the climb back up to the trail. Or we continue from here by striking out closer to the river ledges, so we don’t forfeit five hours of hiking.”

The corners of her eyes pinched in thought, and the bridge of her nose wrinkled in the cutest way. “I know my limitations. We also have a schedule to meet, so we can’t afford to lose half a day’s progress.”

“I agree. We’ll go northeast until we pass this. Do you trust my navigation skills?”

“Definitely,” she said without hesitation.

That pleased his inner bear.
Down boy
, he thought. Too many times on this trip he’d forced his inner animal to keep its primal urges confined. He wasn’t sure how much longer the man could contain the beast. Especially with her in the prime of her cycle and knowing she was his mate. If he wasn’t careful, his bear would push too hard and dominate his rational functions. Somehow, his higher mind needed to remain sharp and convince his instincts he should follow the better course, no matter the sacrifice. He couldn’t afford to move too fast, reveal too much, and risk losing her completely.

They hiked lower along the hillside, below the briar thickets, until they reached a narrow deer trail that followed the natural dips and curves of the river ledges. Shale shards flaked beneath his boots, skittering at an angle toward the deep, winding river.

Fifty yards ahead the path constricted to a thin line that looked barely passable. Not a good sign. He pushed on, fully aware of their need to camp before dark, knowing this hillside was no place to pause.

When they reached the place where the ledges tapered to mere inches, his beauty grabbed his pack with both hands. “Are you kidding? Please tell me you have a Plan B.”

He shook his head. “There’s one plan. Keep moving forward.”

She set her hands on her hips and exhaled in exasperation. “How?”

“I’ll carry both our packs so you can focus on your balance, and I’ll tether you to me.”

She spluttered in disbelief. “Are you insane?” Her voice went shrill on the last word. “I get it, you’re some kind of hiking professional. What does that even require, a degree in survival? Who gives out those certificates? And how is a flimsy tether going to save either of us if I slip off the tiny balance beam over this chasm?”

When her face flushed bright red, he caught the acrid scents of fear and frustration from her. “I’m not flat as a board, in case you haven’t noticed.” She swept her hands along the sides of her gorgeously full figure.

I’ve memorized every inch of your curves
, he thought.

“I won’t stay on the ledge.” Her eyes filled with liquid remorse. “I can’t fit.”

At the sight of her unshed tears, empathy gripped him. Seeing such a capable, accomplished woman doubt herself frustrated him. He faced her. Reaching out, he cradled her cheeks in his palms.

“Hey,” he said softly but firmly. “You can get past this. We’ll figure it out, together.” He was referring to more than just the ledge, but he let her take his comment however she wanted. Whatever mental reassurance she needed to cling to so that they successfully crossed this dangerous pass, he’d offer it.

This route would prove intense for him, too, even with his experience and skill. His saving grace was the brute strength of his inner bear that he could summon when necessary, without the need to shift completely. In the wild, the females of his species climbed trees with bear cubs on their backs. He could handle traversing a narrow ledge and supporting his mate, physically and emotionally. He hoped. He might have to bargain with his bear for backup on this one.

First, he dug out of his pack a six-foot-long, flat lifting strap rated tough enough for a strongman to pull a tank with no fear of the line snapping. He knotted one end around her waist, the other end around his own. Then he attached her pack beneath his using aluminum Carabiner clips.

Uncertainty poured off her in waves, and perspiration dotted her forehead. She licked her lips. “Are you sure this will work?”

“Positive.”
Mostly
. He assured, “People who buy this equipment from the Bear Necessities Survivalist magazine use it to climb mountains, to keep the crew tethered together across intense terrain. It will hold.”

“Will we?”

He sent her a confident nod. “I’ve got you, Steph. Now, follow my lead. Flatten yourself along the hillside, facing toward it like I am, with your back to the drop-off.” The double-pack he carried dangled over the edge. “And don’t look down. Ready?”

“No, but I don’t have much choice.”

“Test the ground under each foot, then anchor your toes as we sidestep across the ledge. Feel the solid rock and earth under your hands. Hold tight to the hillside.”

“Okay.”

Stephanie didn’t feel okay, far from it, but she followed his instructions. She trusted him to ensure her safety.

Per his suggestion, she tested each step, digging her toes into the scant few inches beneath the balls of her feet. She hugged the side of the hill, breathing in the earthy decay of last year’s fallen leaves. Her fingers burrowed into thick dirt and trailed over smooth, curling roots.

A few times she asked him to pause, and he did without question. Tiptoeing across the shelf left her Achilles heels tender, her calf muscles burning, and her knees quaking. She sucked in her stomach to lean as close to the hillside as possible.

With each step, her chest clenched. A pause to breathe, then another shuffle to the right. Mason always stood within reach.

“How’s it going, Steph?”

“I’m still on this damn ledge,” she said through clenched teeth.

“You are, and you’re doing great. Just a little further.”

Every so often, his left hand drifted over the trembling fingers of her right hand, since the width of his arm span was much broader than hers and she couldn’t keep a steady pace. His light touches helped. She continued to find the courage to keep moving alongside him, hugging the hillside, grasping dirt and roots, praying she didn’t make one wrong move that sent them tumbling to their deaths.

After a while, she began to trust herself more. A black bird landed in the thicket above her and flapped a few times, the scarlet stripes of its wings like flags urging her on. She silently thanked Mason for taking the lead, so she didn’t have to see how far they had left to travel.

The trek seemed interminable. An endless test of mental fortitude and physical determination. She couldn’t imagine how he managed to carry both their packs, an additional hundred-and-forty pounds of weight to maneuver. Sweat streaked his T-shirt down the center of his chest and abs, creating a pattern like a Rorschach test, suggesting how hard the muscles beneath the cotton labored to maintain his balance. Yet he moved with grace and ease and sureness.

Rushing water roared over rocks far below. A wave of dizziness struck. “Are we close?” she asked.

“About ten more feet.”

At her pace, that probably meant another ten minutes.

A thorny vine had strayed from its cluster above and dangled next to her. As she tucked in close to the hillside, the thorns pricked her palm, then scraped across the skin of her neck like knifepoints. When she shuffled past, they left burning crimson marks.

Her legs quaked. Her fingertips stung.

“Mason,” she murmured, tiring fast as her initial adrenaline wore off. “I can’t—”

“You can. Just a few more feet.”

She stepped on a sharp stone that cocked her ankle too sharply. Her foot slipped. She grabbed a fistful of dirt, then air.

“Oh, God.”

In slow motion she cartwheeled her arms and fell backward. The strap at her waist yanked up to crush her lungs.

“Mas—” The cord cut her off mid-scream.

Her heart leaped into her throat.

Shutting her eyes, she waited for the swooping sensation of a free-fall, followed by bone-crushing impact.

8

Beyond her pulse thundering in her ears, Stephanie swore she heard a guttural roar echo around her.

In the next moment, she bumped against the sheer cliff. Then she swung like a pendulum from side to side, gaining unexpected momentum until a flat patch of ground came into view.

A powerful hand wrapped around her wrist in a punishing grip. Her shoulder socket wrenched. Suddenly, she landed on her elbows and knees, as her chin nicked solid ground. She hugged the earth, desperately thankful to be alive, in one piece.

When she turned to look at her rescuer, she watched shadows of fear chase across Mason’s face. His tanned features appeared ashen, his eyes wide and dark, with the whites barely showing. He flung the double packs off his back into the shelf of stone beside her and dropped to his knees in front of her.

He grasped her shoulders. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.” She gasped several awe-filled breaths. “I’m okay. You…saved me.”