Hunt (The Grizzly Brothers Chronicles Book 1) (2 page)

I
’d have
to pay Mrs. Peterson back for the flowers I destroyed. Hopefully they weren’t expensive. Otherwise I’d be using every cent I made from the measly salary Connor was supposed to be paying me.

It was fair pay I guess. It was the standard work study rate I’d have gotten if I worked for him on campus, but considering how well he knew my family, I’d hoped he’d wrangle a way to pay me more. But he didn’t, and by the time I realized that, it was too late to find another summer position. There was no way my student loans from the past semester would hold me over until the fall. If law school didn’t kill me first, then the loans I had to pay back would.

I stripped off my wet dress, tossing the black fabric onto the linoleum floor before my bra and underwear followed. That’s how you knew it was heavy rain. When it soaked through to your underwear. I set an envelope down on the bathroom counter before stepping into the tiny combination bathtub/shower. I wasn’t sure who other than young children or dogs could actually use the bath. It didn’t matter. The water pressure was fine, and the water heater did its job. I closed my eyes and washed away the rain. Maybe it was counter intuitive to shower to get rid of the water, but I was chilled as well as looking for a way to put off the inevitable necessity of opening the envelope.

Maybe it was luck that I finally noticed the cream paper sticking up from underneath the passenger side floor mat, but I didn’t believe in luck; I believed in fate. It was both far more dangerous and far more believable.

I turned off the water and reached out for my towel. I met air. I opened the curtain to find my towel on the floor.

"Terrific." I picked the towel off the ground with a wince. I had a thing about floors no matter how well cleaned they were.

I dried off, careful to only use the side that hadn't touched the ground.

Only after I was dressed in a pair of athletic shorts and a tank top and drinking a fresh cup of hot cocoa, did I dare open the envelope that bore my name.

I settled into the one worn out couch in the living room of my rented space.

Mara
- my grandfather’s perfect penmanship stared back at me. I’d always envied his ability to make words look like art. My handwriting more closely resembled that of a child.

Mara.
He repeated my name as though we were having a conversation. Tears welled in my eyes as I prepared to read the rest of the letter.

When life gives you lemons you make lemonade. I've taught you that.

I nodded. It was yet another lesson he'd pressed upon me.

But sometimes lemons go bad and the only lemonade they are going to make is sour and undrinkable.

I froze. Now that was never part of his lesson.

I'm afraid I've left you with sour lemons. And for that I am sorry, but there was no other way. I ran out of time and chickened out.

Your father didn't die. He left you. When your mother died he couldn't handle raising you so he put you in my care. As I said. Sour lemons. You may be asking why I'm telling you now, and the answer is simple. He's going to find you one day. He couldn't handle you as a child, but now he needs something from you, and I know sometime soon I won't be there to protect you anymore.

Take these sour lemons and throw them far away. Don't let him pull you into the world that destroyed your mother. Connor knows everything, and he will protect you as best he can.

He owes me and he will repay that debt by making sure you are safe. Or as safe as you could ever be.

On a positive note, I do have some good lemons. If you sell the farm you can pay for the rest of law school.

With endless love and support,

Grandpa

I dropped the note on the ground and tried to wrap my head around what I’d just read. My grandfather had always been open with me, or so I thought. But he’d kept a major secret, and I wasn’t sure how to feel or respond. There was only one thing to do. I stripped off my clothes and got back into the tiny shower. Hopefully the water would give me some sort of epiphany.

I
made
sure to pick up flowers before heading back over to Mrs. Peterson’s. I had learned at an early age that a small gesture can go a long way. In other words, it could help you, especially with a woman like Mrs. Peterson.

I parked my truck in front of her house and double checked that my collared shirt looked ok. I spent most of my time without any shirt, so it always felt a little bit off to be dressed up. But like picking up the flowers, it would be worth it in the end.

I got out of the truck and walked up the porch steps. The second step felt off. I’d have to come by and fix it for her.

I knocked on the front door. I heard a chair move and waited as patiently as I could while taking a quick glance back at the guesthouse. There was nothing there to see.

I tore my eyes away from the guesthouse when the front door opened.

“Ian. What a nice surprise.” Mrs. Peterson craned her neck to look up at me.

“Hi, Mrs. Peterson. How are you today?” I held out the flowers.

“Oh, what a sweet boy.” She accepted the flowers and opened the door wider. “Come on in.”

I walked inside after taking one last glance over at the cottage.

“What brings you over here today?” Mrs. Peterson pulled down a vase and walked over to the sink. “Not that I mind this surprise visit.”

“I noticed the damage to your flowers out front. I wanted to see if you needed me to fix that up for you.”

“Damage?” She set aside the vase and walked to the window. “Where?”

“Right down at the road. Since you don’t know I assume you weren’t the one who did it.”

“Ian Grizzly.” Mrs. Peterson put a hand on her hip. “I may be old, but I’m not senile. I can drive.”

I held my hands up in front of me in defense. “I know that. But I wasn’t sure how much other company you had coming into the driveway.”

“It must have been the girl.” She took a seat at the worn wooden kitchen table. “It surely just happened because I am sure she’d have told me. She is the honest type. She’s a good girl.”

“What girl?” I took a seat across from her.

Mrs. Peterson grinned. “Ah, that got your attention, huh? Maybe you’re ready to settle down? Your poor mama has six of you boys to worry about still.”

I didn’t correct her. She hadn’t heard the news about Jonovan, and that had been completely intentional. “I don’t know what girl you mean.”

“The one renting the guesthouse. Didn’t you hear?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I’ve been away for a month. I got back into town late last night.”

“Where were you?” She folded her hands in her lap.

“Visiting some distant relatives out east.” Distant was putting it lightly, but technically we were related.

“How was that?” She leaned forward toward me.

“Fine.”

She smiled. “But you really just want me to tell you about the girl.”

“Only because I now know she’s a reckless driver. I need to keep an eye on those sorts of things.”

“Are you thinking of joining the Sheriff’s department?” Mrs. Peterson raised an eyebrow.

“Ah, no.”

“I didn’t think so.” She laughed. “Having one Grizzly brother in the department is probably enough.”

I shrugged. “Hey, Noah isn’t doing too bad.”

“No he isn’t. I’ve heard he’s doing just fine.” Mrs. Peterson had a soft spot for my second youngest brother.

“But that’s not what you want to do.”

I shook my head. “No, but I still want to keep our town safe.”

She laughed. “If that’s the yarn you’re spinning today.”

“It is.”

“She’s real pretty. And no ring on her finger.”

“I’m not looking for a girlfriend, Mrs. P.”

“Mrs. P? You haven’t called me that since you were this high.” She measured to the table height with her hand.

I shrugged. “I guess I’m falling back into old habits.”

“Don’t fall back into too many old habits.” She wagged her finger. She was referring to the past I’d never live down. I wasn’t the worst of my brothers. That prize was Jonovan’s. Or it had been his. Now that he was gone, I had it. I was also now the oldest. The Alpha.

“I won’t.” I nodded. “You said she has no ring, but are you sure she’s not dating anyone?” There had to be a tie to Jonovan. Either him or another one of my brothers. I was sure they would have noticed the same thing I did the moment they got near her.

“I haven’t seen her talk to any man but the lawyer she’s here with. He’s her professor though so I don’t think she’s dating him.”

“You never know. Some girls like that sort of thing. The authority figure.” And those were the kind of girls I always stayed away from.

“She’s spent every night alone if that’s what you’re really asking.” Mrs. Peterson straightened up in her chair.

“I don’t care.”

“Then why are you asking?” She bit back a smile.

“Just concern for you.”

“For me?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Didn’t want anyone who was bad news staying on your property.”

“Do you believe I’d allow her to have an overnight guest she was unmarried to?” Mrs. Peterson shook her head.

“It’s the twenty-first century, Mrs. Peterson, and she’s a paying tenant. You couldn’t stop her.”

“Sure I could. It’s my right. I’m not working for a fancy business.”

“Did you actually lay down rules like that?” I’d known Mrs. Peterson my whole life, and it wouldn’t have surprised me one bit.

She smiled. “Yes. Mara looked horrified I’d even suggest she’d do that sort of thing. Like I told you. She’s a good girl. I’m hoping she decides to stay past the summer.” Mrs. Peterson leaned forward again. “Maybe she would if she had a reason to.”

By Mrs. Peterson’s look I knew exactly what she was implying. “I don’t even know her. Mara, did you say?”

“Yes. She spells it unusually. M-A-R-A. Not like Mrs. Anderson’s Marah with the H at the end.”

I pretended to care about how the girl spelled her name. I smiled. “Interesting.”

“I suppose I should go check out the damage myself.” She started to push back her chair.

“Oh no. You don’t have to.”

“Yes I do. It’s my property. I need to know what’s happening on it.”

“I already told you I’d fix it for you.”

“Let me see how bad it is.”

A knock on the door ended our argument. I walked over and opened it, coming face to face with the girl. Mara. Her hair was still wet, but she’d changed into a tank top and gym shorts that made me even more curious about what they hid underneath.

She stared at me as if in shock for a second before composing herself. “Uh, is Mrs. Peterson home?”

I smiled, enjoying her discomfort if only because the red blush that crossed her cheeks revealed freckles I’d missed before. “Yes. Come on in.”

W
hat was he doing here
? I’d have forgotten about the guy except I was half convinced I’d made him up. It wouldn’t have been my first phantom man. I’d seen several over the past months, and I assumed it was some post traumatic thing from my grandfather’s death. I was lonely and inventing hot guys. But this one was real. And dressed up and standing in Mrs. Peterson’s house.

I walked into the cramped kitchen and found Mrs. Peterson seated at the table. “Hi, if you have a moment I need to speak with you.”

“Hi, Mara. Ian must have forgotten his manners, he didn’t introduce himself.” She smiled at me before throwing a frown at the guy. Ian. The name fit.

“Hi, I’m Ian.” He held out a large hand. My hand nearly disappeared inside of his when I accepted the handshake. His skin was warm, almost hot, and considering the chill in the air, part of me wanted to hold his hand longer. But I couldn’t continue to hold onto it. I let go and stepped back only belatedly realizing I’d forgotten my end of the conversation. “I’m Mara.”

“Nice to meet you, Mara.” He smiled in a way that lit up his face. “What brings you to town?”

“Work.” I thought over my words. I still didn’t know who this guy was. “For the summer.”

“Have you been here long?” He studied my face.

“Almost a week.”

“Ok. I’ve been away.” His eyes didn’t leave mine.

“Maybe Ian can show you around. He knows the land better than just about anyone. He is from one of the founding families of Crestview.” Mrs. Peterson beamed. “Just like my late husband’s family.”

“Oh. No, I wouldn’t want to put him out.” I hoped she would drop the issue. I didn’t need to make anything more awkward with him.

“It wouldn’t be a bother. I always enjoy welcoming newcomers to town.” His eyes were just as bright as I’d thought. It was a brighter shade than anything I’d ever seen before. “So what do you say?”

I stared at his eyes, marveling at the green color.

“Mara?” Mrs. Peterson said my name, snapping me out my daze. “Are you going to answer him?”

“Oh, sure,” I stammered, “but first I need to apologize to you.”

“Apologize for what?” Mrs. Peterson smiled, which seemed odd.

“I was distracted and ran over a row of your flowers. I will absolutely pay for the replacements, and I’ll plant them myself. I really am sorry.”

“I’ve already offered to take care of them.” Ian smiled. “How about I run you over to the nursery, and we can do it together?”

“What a lovely idea.” Mrs. Peterson grinned “And they were just hollyhock. Nothing fancy. Give my name and Miss Nelson will put it under my account.”

“I’ll pay.” There was no way I was letting her cover my mistake. “I insist. It was my fault.”

“If you insist.” She nodded.

“How about we tie in the sightseeing? Kill two birds with one stone?” Ian asked.

“I hate that saying.” The words slipped out on their own volition.

“Why?” Ian narrowed his eyes.

“Sorry. My grandfather used to say it all the time and it always bothered me. No one should be killing any birds, let alone two with a stone.”

“Not much of a hunter?” Ian crossed his arms.

“No.”

“Let me guess, you’re from New York or something like that?” He frowned. It wasn’t like the one at the graveyard. This frown was all about disapproval. I was good at reading frowns. I’d seen far too many of them in my life.

I shook my head. “No.”

“Philadelphia,” Mrs. Peterson interjected.

“Same thing.” Ian nodded.

“It’s not the same thing, and I’m not from there.”

“Ok.” Ian nodded toward the door. “Are you ready to go?”

“I should probably change first.” I glanced down at my gym clothes and flip flops. “I’m a little underdressed.” At least it had stopped raining, so I wasn’t soaked again.

“It’s fine. Perfect clothes for gardening.” He smiled.

“Then what about you?” I gestured to his slacks and collared shirt. “You going to garden in that?”

“We can stop by my place so I can change.”

“Uh…” I struggled to come up with words.

“You can wait in the truck.” He laughed as if at some unsaid joke.

“All right you two, have a fun afternoon.” Mrs. Peterson stood, and the motion seemed to be a mandate that we leave. “Thanks for the beautiful flowers, Ian.” She nodded toward a vase full of brightly colored tulips.

“Of course.” Ian nodded. “And we will have those flowers fixed out front for you in no time.”

“Don’t rush. Make sure you show Mara all the sights. I’m suspicious she hasn’t seen much of town.”

“I’ve been busy settling in and getting ready for work,” I quickly jumped in to defend myself.

“It’s Sunday. Today isn’t a day to work. Which reminds me. I want you both over for supper tonight. No excuses.” Mrs. Peterson put a hand on her hip.

“Oh, that’s not nece—”

“I said no excuses.” Mrs. Peterson narrowed her eyes.

I nodded.

“Ladies first.” Ian gestured for me to start out the door.

My day had gone from crazy to crazier, and somehow it didn’t surprise me in the slightest.