Bearly Hanging On (Alpha Werebear Shifter Paranormal Romance) (The Jamesburg Shifters Book 6) (24 page)

The trail of moonlight shimmering over the tops of the pines led from where she flapped, bobbing up and down in the night, all the way to where she hoped she'd find some answers
. And if nothing else, I can see what Erik's done. I can't believe he's actually putting himself out like this,
she thought. But damn if he doesn't always come through when it matters most.

In the distance, about thirty miles from where she was, she could pick up vague sounds through the forest cacophony, if she tilted her head and focused just right. Something was going on down there, so if nothing else, she was going to get a story.

*

"Y
ou find him?" Erik called out as Jamie patted to a stop behind him, trotting until her momentum slowed. Erik was shirtless, of course, and pounding away on the side of one of the shacks.

"No," she said. "Looking still, that's why I'm here. Are you... patching a hole?"

"Nope," Erik said with a grunt of effort. "Replacing studs. This roof collapsed, and, er, well, it's a good thing we know
them
."

Looking past the straining alpha, Jamie caught a glimpse of Atlas and Sara holding the entire roof of the small house, high enough in the air for Erik to get the studs back in place. Ash Morgan, Rex Lee, and West, three of Jamesburg's biggest bears, were cramming support beams between the floor and the ceiling, while Lilah Lee corralled a bunch of screeching pups, kits and cubs.

"Town's all here, huh?" Jamie asked, slightly incredulous. "Holy shit, is that Leon?"

Sure enough, the town drunk-cum-salamander was hauling buckets of water up from a well and pouring them into massive barrels near each dwelling place.

"Jamie," the salamander nodded, suspiciously sober. "Evenin'."

"Er, hey Leon," she said, before turning back to Erik. "What the hell did you do? How did... you didn't threaten to cancel Christmas again, did you?"

"No," he said, as he delivered a final mallet blow that sunk a stud right into place. "Thanksgiving this time."

"Ha-ha," Jamie mocked him. "But seriously, how did you convince all these people to come out here? It's like one of those town dances we used to have before—"

"Heya, heya, heya, heya, heya," Jamie heard. The voices came in increasing pitch, and when she wheeled around, she noticed that the Duncans, Jamesburg's normally-reclusive corgi family, had even showed up. In front was the father, behind him, their mother, and then their three pups in, of course, sequential order. Each of them carried some kind of animal - chicken, lamb, one of them even had a goat.

"Simon, Sammy, Simone, Sandra and," Jamie bit her lip, trying to remember the name of the smallest of them. "Don't tell me. Shakira? No... Samson! Yes! I got you all, right?"

Simon, the father, grinned. "Nailed it! Love to chat, but gotta get these animals back to their pens."

They went on their way and as soon as the diminutive family was out of earshot, Jamie turned to Erik, excitedly saying, "The corgis are herding animals. Even you have to appreciate that."

"It is funny for short people to try and be so big, isn't it?" he said, grinning broadly and obviously having absolutely no idea that was either offensive, stupid, or both. "They're cute."

Jamie heaved a sigh. "Okay, well, anyway, I'm going to ask around and see if anyone's heard from Ryan or knows where he might've gone. You keep, you know, rebuilding an entire community with your bare hands."

In the distance, as she stepped out the hole in the wall that Erik was surgically repairing, Jamie heard a great heaving sound, followed by creaking wood, and a huge crash. After all that, a cheer rose up. "One more down!" Professor Duggan huffled up to Jamie, red-faced and smiling. "And they even have proper permits for all this construction! Nothing could be more wonderful!"

She just shook her head and crossed the packed-dirt driveway that made a path through the compound. Jamie was daydreaming, partially about the amazing turnaround that Erik's soul had apparently taken, but also about Ryan, where he could be, how much she'd give to feel his hands against her skin, his arms around her shoulders, when a rattling voice broke her concentration.

"Simply amazing," came a weak, soft, and obviously ancient voice. It was the sort of voice that never raises, but whenever it speaks, everyone in ear shot quiets to hear. "This work. It's all so... amazing."

Turning to face a small, but sturdy-looking house, Jamie saw the old man Ryan had pointed out to her from a distance. He was holding a long-stemmed pipe with a crooked finger, and wearing a loose-fitting bathrobe which Jamie identified a few seconds later as a silk smoking jacket, along with Hugh Heffner-like pajama bottoms, and red slippers embroidered with golden anchors on the toes.

He took a draw off his pipe, and blew out three smoke rings before stretching his mouth into a thin smile. "Welcome back," he said. "Though we never met, I feel like we did."

Jamie quirked one of her eyebrows, and searched her memory for his name. She decided to buy some time. "I'm Jamie—"

"Ampton," he said in his paper-thin voice. "Oh, I know, everyone knows. Ryan, he hasn't been well for a long time. Sick, you see, his heart."

"He is?" Jamie asked, her jaw dropping. "He has heart problems? I—"

The old man chuckled. "Not that sort, although they are often one in the same, I think. No, he's been heartsick, you see. For so very long. But after you were here, he was singing."

"That's a metaphor, right? Spring in his step, that sort of thing?"

"Not at all, young miss. Very literally singing. Nothing I'd ever heard of, but then again, I don't like anything made after about 1952. It's all too modern."

"I... made him sing?" For some reason, that struck Jamie in a place she'd never quite felt pangs of emotion, of longing, before. "Literally sing. Really?"

"You helped heal a sick heart. You mightn't know it," he said, taking another draw and blowing out a plume of spicy, sweet smelling smoke. "There it is, though. I've known him for three years, known his aunt and uncle much longer - and never seen him act like that. Prancing about, talking everyone's ear off about you."

"Prancing?" Jamie asked with a heavy dose of incredulity in her voice. "Ryan Drake pranced?"

The old man just chuckled, his surprisingly round cheeks dimpling as he smiled. "But, he's in trouble," his eyes darkened just a little, though he kept smiling.

"I'm sorry," Jamie cut in, "I forgot your name. I feel awful, but—"

"No, no, don't worry. You probably never knew it. For all his stout heart and courage, Ryan lacks in social grace. I'm Martin Long. Very good to finally meet you."

Her head swam slightly as she took his ancient hand and shook. The skin on his hand felt like stretched leather, but when the man gripped her hand, there was strength there she didn't expect. He motioned for her to sit in one of the two swings he had on his porch. Jamie did, tucking back her wings and crossing her legs. Martin sat opposite, sighing as he relaxed into the ancient, cast-iron swing.

"If you've only been here six years, where did all these houses come from?" Jamie asked. It was the first time she'd thought to be curious about something so obvious.

Martin shrugged. "Some of them are the remnants of an old... miner camp, or possibly fur traders. The old Jamesburg was much wilder than the new one. Though memories of it have faded. Also, Ryan built a lot of them. My house, though, was old. This swing, too, was old even by my standards, and I'm obviously no spring panda."

Jamie chewed her lip, thinking back to what Ryan told her - which was startlingly little, now that she was thinking about it. The pieces of his mysterious life were hard to assemble, probably even if she knew more about him. "I just wish we had more time," she said, accidentally out loud.

"Oh?" Martin asked.

"I just," she grumbled. "I didn't really mean to say that out loud. But I just... the one night we had, the few days we spent together, it was enough for me to know that we had something special, that I felt with him like I never did before, but—listen to me. I'm babbling at someone I hardly know. Sorry."

"Oh, on the very much contrary," he said with a broad grin, and another puff of his pipe. "I know exactly what you mean and how you feel. Often we don't have much of a choice of who we love, or of how we love them."

"I think getting mixed up with me got him in trouble," Jamie said, the words spilling out in less syllables than they should have had. "I’ve gone everywhere I could think to look, but this seems different. I don't know what sort of place he calls home, you know?"

The panda got a distant, reminiscent look in his eyes. "He is... he is a special sort of person, you know this. You've felt it. But home is not something Ryan has. Or had, may be a better tense to use. Where he goes when he's trapped," he trailed off for a moment. "He always seems trapped, and yet he stays. He stays to care for us, because we have no one else, except each other."

"He's never run before?" she asked, deflated.

"No, he has," Martin corrected her. "But never like this. Never without a word. Although I suppose he's never had to take off in quite such a hurry as he did this time. Cora and Tom - ah, Marmite - they told me what Mr. Danniken did. He's as brave as Ryan, I think."

That was the first time she'd ever heard Erik called "mister" anything, and the notion struck her as slightly funny, if not a little absurd. "I guess when things get down to desperate you really see what's inside someone, huh?"

She'd been rocking herself back and forth, slowly, and hadn't even realized it until her foot dragged along the ground, and she got a toe-full of gravelly sand.

"Erik's so... I mean, he's normally so full of macho bullshit, er, sorry for my language," Jamie said. Martin waved her off with a smile. "I can't believe he's doing this. It's so not Erik."

Martin smiled for a long moment. "I think it is very Erik. Underneath all of our exteriors, whatever they are - gruff, thick, angry, joking - most of us know that we could all be in such a place. Most of us know someday we will. I talked to him for a few minutes," he coughed lightly. "He looked inside himself. I think having the cub did it for him, as it does for many of us. Change of perspective, and all that."

Jamie was nodding, but obviously distracted.

"But you didn't come to listen to an old man ramble and philosophize, did you? And don't be bashful."

Jamie chuckled a little. "Well, no, I suppose not. Although, I don't mind. You gave me a lot to think about." One of her wings twitched. The cold was starting to get to her, which always happened if she didn't eat enough, or sleep enough. Which lately? She'd been doing entirely too much of not enough. "I guess I came here because I thought maybe someone would have a clue where he went. But if you're telling me he doesn't have any place that he really feels at home, or safe, or—"

"I didn't say such a thing," Martin had another lingering grin. "There are places I'm sure he feels all of that. What I said was that he hadn't had one."

"Before... me?" Jamie asked, half confused and half understanding.

Martin nodded. "You two, you have a connection, you told me about it. And if a person is willing to spill their heart to an old panda who they hardly know? That's a strong thing. Very strong. So strong that the heart, the soul, won't let it stay inside."

Jamie started gnawing at her bottom lip again. "Do you think he went," she trailed off, shaking her head. "No, that's impossible. We hardly know each other."

"You're wrong again," Martin said, standing slowly from his swing, and twisting back and forth. "You know each other's hearts. Each other’s past? That's a list of facts, that's checked baggage. You can come to know that. But you know his heart and he feels yours. Do not underestimate that, dear child."

Jamie took a deep breath.

"It's all just so fast," she said, also standing.

"The heart knows when things are right," Martin said. "All we have to do is listen. Fast, not fast, in the scheme of things, all our lives are flashes against the darkness. A flicker, a blink, a spark. Be glad your heart knows so well. Many of us? No such luck."

"He never said anything?"

"To me? No. But I can tell from how your eyes have relaxed, that you've had a thought. Follow your heart, Jamie. Next time I see you, I want to see you with him, not alone."

"Thank you," Jamie said, allowing herself the indulgence of a smile. "I think... you've made a lot of things make a lot of sense."

He shook his head as he turned to open the door. "No, you made sense of your own thoughts. I just... nudged you along. Oh," as he grabbed the doorknob, he turned back over his shoulder. "And when you find him, will you tell Ryan something for me?"

When, she thought, not if.

"Yeah, of course."

"Good. The Cowboys lost. He owes me twenty bucks." With a chuckle that turned into something approximating a cackle, the old panda shuffled inside, and let the screen door slap shut against the frame.

Smiling, Jamie looked back up at the sky. "If you're there," she whispered, "I'll find you."

With her wings stretched wide, she caught a gust, pointed east, toward the cave.
I’ll find you, Ryan
.
I won’t stop until I do.

––––––––

C
old air, frigid from the high altitude and blowing ice crystals, had Jamie slightly worried about her wings freezing up, but the briefest dips and drags were plenty to keep her from going full icicle. Still, by the time she finally wheeled around in a long, slow circle around the cave she and Ryan had shared, she was sapped.

Her feet hit with a click, and she peered inside. It never got to be less jarring when the weather in the air was vastly different from what it was on the ground, and that time was no exception. The chill from her flight along with the oddly balmy late-fall weather had her going between shivering and sweating, like a flu with no sense of purpose, but a lot of plucky ambition.

“Ryan?” she called out into the dingy, earthen-smelling darkness. She didn’t remember the cave smelling quite like
this
, but then again, she was a little taken away from reality. “You in here? I need to see you.”