Bearview Bride (BBW Bear Shifter Paranormal Romance)

Bearview Bride

Lily Thorn
Copyright © 2016 by Lily Thorn
Subscribe to Lily’s mailing list
to be notified of new releases and freebies:
http://www.subscribepage.com/b5h9l4
http://lilythornbooks.com
[email protected]

Chapter One

S
URELY TODAY COULDN’T
get any worse. Tess hauled herself onto the slick rock in the middle of the stream, one-handed. Her other hand held her precious camera high above the rushing water. She wasn’t really sure she would call this a stream, not with the way the chest-high water clawed at her.

She was glad she had worn her father’s waders, even though they were ridiculously large on her. The biting cold of the stream was dulled by the rubber, and this rock was just the place to take her shot.

All she needed was one perfect picture that would solve all her problems. As long as it was irresistible to Gary, the editor of
Ranges
magazine, he might give her enough to cover next month’s rent. If he loved it, he might even give her enough to fix her car, which had stalled out on the winding mountain road.

Tess bit back a curse, unable to swat at the mosquitoes that had discovered her and were happily feasting on her unmoving flesh. Swinging her camera around, she made sure the peak of Mount Bliss was in focus. The stream cut through the foreground, afternoon light golden on its waters. Lodgepole pines framed either side of the shot, bending inward as if to beckon the viewer forward.

She snapped off a few pictures, checking the exposure. Everything seemed perfect. Tess scrolled through the photos she had just taken, but she wasn’t satisfied. What was missing?

Sighing, she held the viewfinder to her eye again and minutely adjusted the focus. Yonder, Wyoming was a beautiful place, full of stately mountains and glacial lakes and grassy plains. Some people might even call it paradise, but those people had probably not been stuck in Yonder for two and a half decades, and spent most of that time longing to be somewhere, anywhere else.

Her father had been a wildlife and landscape photographer, and he’d sent her postcards from far-off places. Borneo. Patagonia. Tibet. But even better than the postcards were the photos he printed when he got home, his camera bag as worn and dusty as his boots. He let her keep her favorites, and she’d used them to paper the walls of her room.

When she should have been doing her homework, she’d stare up at them, captivated. The ones she begged him to blow up to poster size were always from Africa. A blood-red sun rising over the plains, a lion standing triumphant over a fallen antelope, giraffes cantering through the tall grass.

She had drunk in the tales he’d told her, of places with incredible names. Ngorongoro Crater. Okavango Delta. Maasai Mara. She wanted to see them all.

But instead, she’d been trapped in a small trailer with a resentful mother, and though her father had promised to take her with him on one of his trips, he never had the chance. He told her that one day they’d have enough money, but a different day came when he stepped off a plane from Tasmania and died of a heart attack.

Tess shut her eyes, willing herself not to cry. That would just fog the viewfinder, and she wouldn’t get any good shots then. Holding her camera tight, Tess took a deep breath. She did have her father’s gear and camera bag, and that was better than nothing at all.

She just wished she could photograph something other than endless mountains.

“You can’t always shoot whatever you want to.”
Her father’s quiet voice came rushing back to her.
“Sometimes, you have to shoot what’s in front of you and wait for the next assignment.”

Taking a moment to slap a mosquito, Tess raised the camera to her eye once more. She was Alan Holt’s daughter—if Gary wanted the fifteen thousandth photo of a mountain peak for
Ranges
, Tess would give him the best damn photo he’d ever seen. She wouldn’t let her father down.

Squaring her shoulders, Tess peered through the viewfinder. Something was definitely missing. And nothing could be missing, not when she needed Gary to fall over himself to buy her photo. After all, she had been fired from her administrative assistant job that morning when her boss had learned of her plans to take yet another half day for this shoot.

Mr. Henderson had barked that he needed an assistant, not a photographer, and that she could clear out her desk. A small box with a dying fern sat in the backseat of her dead car, along with a framed photo of her father at the helm of a Maori war canoe. If her photos couldn’t make her money in the next few days, she would be in some very deep shit.

She squinted at the camera’s display. What the hell was wrong with her picture? Was it the light? The angle? Glaring, Tess leaned forward. Maybe she needed to crouch lower for a more dynamic framing.

As she shifted her weight, her foot slipped. Tess yelled, her arms pin wheeling, but none of it was enough to keep her balance. Dropping her camera, she fell into the stream.

The cold water flooded into her waders. Tess reached out for her camera, which had landed on the rock, but the current pulled her away. She kicked her legs, desperately trying to get her footing on the bottom, but her feet were swept out from under her. The water-filled waders felt like lead, dragging her down.

Tess gasped, sputtering for air. She spun in the stream, too late to dodge the gauntlet of rocks that lay before her.

It’s not fair
, she thought.
I never got to go to Africa.

Then she hit a rock and sank into darkness.

Chapter Two

C
ADE LEANED AGAINST
the wall, muscles tensed. His parents had called for a Boone family meeting. Not a staff meeting, not a brainstorming meeting, but a family meeting. They had only ever done that twice before. The first time, his parents had gently told him and his brothers that Mars, their childhood dog, had died. The second time, his father had gravely told them all that their mother had been diagnosed with cancer.

So this couldn’t be anything good.

His father strode into the office and sat behind the huge oak desk. His mother trailed behind him, perching in a leather chair. Her hair was growing back now, her head covered in light brown fuzz, but Cade still felt weak with relief every time he saw her.

He had been so worried. They all had. The memory of last year still hung over them like a dark mist. But the late spring had brought hope along with budding flowers and stumbling baby elk. Her chemo was complete, her cancer in remission according to her doctors. Cade would have to trust them, though he wouldn’t rest easy yet. He couldn’t even imagine losing his mother.

His throat tightened at the very thought of it.

Reaching out, his father grasped his mother’s hand. Coop Boone gave his wife a tender smile.

“My men.” Julie Boone laughed, looking at her sons who were ranged around the office. “I love you all, but stop looking at me like I’m made of glass.”

“We’re just concerned,” Ethan said. “You know it could come back.”

“But it hasn’t,” their mother said firmly, “and we won’t worry ourselves unless it does.”

“That’s good news,” Sawyer said. “So why are we here, then?”

Cade glared at him, but Sawyer either didn’t notice or didn’t care. No doubt his youngest brother could think of more exciting places to be.

“We need to talk,” Coop said. “As you know, the seven of you each hold a ten percent stake in the lodge. It’s more yours than ours now, and you get a say in how it’s run. A say in the big decisions.”

Cade felt cold sweat prickle on his spine. Big decisions? How could his brothers, the youngest three especially, be trusted to make big decisions?

Their mother cleared her throat. “Before we get started, can I please remind you all not to bother the staff? We need them if we want to make it through the summer. Don’t scare them off.” She gazed pointedly at Sawyer, who tried to look innocent.

“Are you talking about Mandy? She told me she was leaving because she was homesick!”

Adam elbowed him. “Mandy was definitely bothered. Hot and bothered.”

“Yeah,” Dean added, “until she caught you kissing that girl from town. Then she was really bothered.”

“All right.” Sawyer glared at them. “I get it. Just shut up.”

Cade saw their parents exchange a look, worry plain on their faces. It was clear they had bigger issues to discuss.

“Why are we really here?” Cade asked. “I know you didn’t call a meeting just to tell us to keep our hands off the staff. So what is it?”

His father let out a deep sigh. “You know that your mother and I were barely able to focus on the lodge last year. Between that and all the medical bills…” He looked over at his wife, who squeezed his hand. “We might not make it through the summer season. People aren’t flocking to ski resorts this time of year, but we barely have enough funds to cover day-to-day operations.”

Sawyer looked up, alarmed. “Does this mean we won’t be getting paid?”

“You get ten percent of our profits,” their father answered. “If there are no profits…” He swept out his hands, palms up and empty.

“You’re worried about profits?” Cade growled at Sawyer. “We could lose the lodge.”

Coop sighed. “We will if we can’t make it to the winter season. And as Sawyer has rightfully pointed out, there definitely won’t be any profits or money this summer. I won’t blame you boys if you want to bow out.”

“What does that mean?” Cade drew himself up, trying not to loose the animal stirring inside him.

Coop gave him a sympathetic look. “It might make the most sense to sell the lodge.”

“Sell Bearview?” Cade sputtered. “We would never do that. This is our home. The lodge and Mount Bliss have been in our family for generations. We can’t give them up.”

“Is the lodge still worth something?” Dean asked.

“It has to be,” Sawyer said. “The land alone must be worth a small fortune.” His eyes were shining.

A growl ripped from Cade’s chest before he could stop it. “We’re not selling Bearview Lodge,” he said. “Or Mount Bliss.”

His six brothers stared back at him. Cade’s heart sank. If it came to a vote, it would be him against two sets of triplets. And the younger ones definitely seemed more interested in the money than anything else.

Desperately, he looked at Ethan, technically the second oldest. “You wouldn’t sell. Would you?”

Ethan wouldn’t meet his eyes. “It’s not that simple, Cade. This winter, it’ll cost thousands of dollars a day just to keep Bearview running. If we end this summer in the red, it’ll take more than a good winter season to save us.”

“It might be better to sell now,” Logan said. “After all, ten percent of zero is zero.”

Beside him, Jake crossed his arms. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’d rather not have zero.”

How could any of them talk like this? Cade clenched his fists, trying to keep himself from tearing the room apart.

“Cade,” his father said softly. “I know you love Bearview, but this is also a business. If we’re in the red at the end of the summer, we’ll have no choice but to sell.”

“You could at least give it a chance,” Cade snarled. “Or am I the only one who considers this mountain home?” Turning, he stormed out of the room and down the hall. He didn’t want to talk to any of them right now, or even look at their traitorous faces.

Luckily, it was quiet in the lobby. As his father had pointed out, summer wasn’t exactly a boom time in the skiing industry. Some guests still came to fish and canoe and hike the mountain trails, but not enough of them to keep Bearview afloat. Not after all the medical bills. Cade usually liked the quiet summer months, but now the silence in the lobby reminded him of a tomb.

He ran toward the exit. The shift was coming, whether he wanted it to or not, and he had to get into the forest. Sprinting out through the giant double doors, he raced across the drive and into the woods. They couldn’t sell Bearview. It would be torn down, and probably replaced with some horrible prefab eyesore. Maybe it would be turned into a timeshare, or a strip of condos.

Bounding into the trees, Cade ripped off his clothes. His heart beat hard as his bear surged to the surface. Fur rippled over his skin, and his fingers sprouted claws. He stood at his full height, anger in his every sinew, opening his mouth to roar his frustration to the enclosing pines. This was his forest, his mountain, his home. He wouldn’t let anyone take it from him.

Dropping to all fours, he headed deeper into the forest at a lumbering run.

Usually, his bear form calmed him, but today even his beast was agitated. He was a part of Mount Bliss, and Mount Bliss was a part of him. He loved everything about it, from the meltwater and bursting bluebells of spring to the quiet heat of summer, to the fat running trout in autumn once the water started to chill.

The deep cold of winter was best of all, for although the lodge tended to be overrun with guests, there were still places of silence to be found in the woods. And while his bear could hibernate for weeks inside him, it was in winter that Cade always felt most content.