Can't Bear To Run (Kendal Creek Bears, #1) (3 page)

She cocked an eyebrow. “Is that, uh, really the best idea? Kendal Creek has no real law enforcement except for you beating up people when they get out of line, and Rollins as the acting sheriff. Also, don’t you remember the last time you took off? What was that, six years ago? You moped around town for three months pining for some girl you didn’t even talk to.”

“Well he can handle it. He’s been around long enough.” Dax stopped for a moment, “And I told you, that Boston trip is off-limits to make fun of. I’ll find her again. No matter what.”

“Yeah,” Fletcher said. “That’s the problem. Rollins has been eligible for retirement for about five years now. You really think he wants to be running around in the woods every time someone reports a fight or thinks they’ve spotted a poacher?” She carefully avoided any talk about the mystery woman. It was like she said though – Dax took another impromptu vacation to Boston six years before, and ended up falling in love with someone he never talked to. Bears tend to mate for life, sure, but such a fixation, Fletcher had
never
seen.

“And anyway, beyond that we
just
worked out that truce with Jack Creighton and his slightly
Deliverance
-like clan.”

“I know,” he said, rubbing his temples with an impatient hand. “I know all of that. I just need to get out of here for a while. I need to think.”

Fletch pulled her horn-rimmed glasses off her nose, and stuck the left tortoise-shell earpiece in her mouth. She was irritated, Dax knew the signs. “Why don’t you take breaks when things are, you know, stable?”

“What difference does it make?” he asked, sitting back down and exhaling loudly. “Where are we going to find a werebear cop? Hell, where are we even going to find more
werebears
who are willing to live all the way out here in the middle of nothing. The closest enclave is in Santa Fe, and I’m sure all the city slickers and weird ley-line worshipping hippies that live out there don’t want any part of a world without fast food vegan cuisine.”

And I need to find her
, Dax thought.
She’s the one. I know it. I know it in my damn bones. Even if I don’t know her name.
For a moment, he let his thoughts drift to her careless curls, her dark green eyes and the way her right cheek dimpled when she sang Michael Bolton songs. Somehow, her voice took him to a place he couldn’t explain; a place where he was calm. And Dax wasn’t one to ever be very calm.

“Fair enough,” Fletch said. “But maybe it’s time we open up a little?”

“Oh good, this again,” he said. “You know the rules. The Council won’t have any part of it. If I bring a human – or a bunch of them – here, they’ll be all over my nuts in a half-second. You’re talking about that girl again, aren’t you?”

“Classy language. And yeah, of course I am.”

“You’re the one who scratches herself when she thinks no one is looking,” Dax said with a grin. His silvery eyes twinkled with mischief, and his irises showed just a fleck of yellow. He was feeling feral.

Fletch laughed, unashamed. “You gonna tell a bear not to scratch? Anyway, there’s more pressing things to deal with than your stress level. Go get a massage, eat a big hunk of pie down at Wilma’s, and come back refreshed. Sound good?”

Dax shook his head. “Well yeah, of course it does. But that isn’t gonna solve anything. My heart’s a couple thousand miles away, and I know I can’t ever have her. Rules are rules.”

“Assuming you could ever find her, I don’t see why you have to follow the rules. There have been humans before. Not many, yeah, but... I know I’m not supposed to talk about her, but I think she’d be good for you. Of course, I think you’re nuts to figure on finding her again.”

As the two of them fell momentarily silent, the siren song of a 1980s vintage desk phone filled the air. It rang twice.

“You gonna get that?” Dax said.

Fletch shot him a nasty glance. She grabbed the receiver. “Kendal Creek town hall, how may I direct your call?”

Her face grew taut. She pursed her thin, red lips, and crinkled her left eye. Whoever it was, she didn’t like the way they were talking to her. Dax couldn’t make out the voice, but he could tell that she wasn’t a happy camper.

“Right, well, can I tell him who is calling, or are you just going to keep insulting me?”

Dax couldn’t help but laugh. Just about the last thing in the world Fletcher was going to put up with was telephone rudeness. She didn’t like talking on them that much anyway – the irony of that wasn’t lost on Dax – but when people got snippy, she turned straight-up hostile.

Fletcher was shaking her head.

“You know what? Fine.”

She handed the phone to Dax. “You deal with this prick. Won’t even tell me his name.”

“Alpha Mark speaking, who’s this?”

The voice on the other end was crackly, obviously old and obviously not having a very good day. “We have reports of your town not having police.”

Dax took a deep breath. “Ah, Councilman Wyatt,” he said. “So nice to hear from you again. I was worried you’d fallen into a deep hole, broken a hip and gone septic.”

Wyatt laughed, dry and sarcastically. “You’re as good a comedian as you are an efficient leader. Before you get any ideas, I mean you’re completely worthless in both ways.”

“What do you want, Wyatt?” Dax hissed. He felt the blood in his forehead thump against his brain.

“Such a snippy child you are,” he said. “Is that how you address your elders?”

“It is when they’re presumptuous jerkoffs.”

The old man laughed. “Your crass discourtesy doesn’t affect me, Daxon. And anyway, I’m trying to help you keep control of your city. The Council, you know, has an interest in keeping the peace.”

“Is that so? Please, tell me how you’re going to help. Planning to try and kill me again?”

“Oh no, not yet. In fact, I won’t be trying again. I’m too old to care much for power games. All I want now is to live out my days in relative peace. Since I’m the one in charge of the Rocky Mountain territory, I have to somehow keep you and your absurd little town from descending completely into madness.”

“Are you from Victorian England?”

“Cute, Daxon,” Wyatt said. “But I don’t have time for our normal verbal jousting. You’ll listen to my instructions and you won’t ask questions. There will be plenty of time for me to have my ears rung out by your ignorance when I arrive.”

“Oh, good,” Dax said. “Haven’t you heard that it’s rude to show up without an invitation?”

“Hmph,” the old man grunted. “You are a very difficult creature.”

Dax let out a throaty sigh. “Just tell me whatever you have to tell me. I’d prefer not to spend any more time talking to you than I have to.”

“Oh, believe me, the sentiment is shared. I’ve got some plans for the future of your territory. You can thank me later.”

With a rattling cough, the old man dropped his receiver onto the cradle, and a whining tone reached Daxon’s ears.

“What did he want?” Fletch asked. “I’m sure it wasn’t to ask you out on a date.”

Dax chuffed a laugh. “Not exactly. Apparently he’s got some mysterious plans. With him, who knows?”

“Oh, ain’t that just so nice of him? I’m sure this isn’t a power play or yet another of his plots to boot your ass out of town. Completely sure. Wyatt would never do something like that.”

Dax took up one of the silver balls on his desk toy and sent it into clack-clacking motion. He shook his head, frowning so deeply that lines wrinkled his cheeks. He clenched his jaws and then snatched the balls in his hand, squeezing so hard his knuckles went white.

“Whatever he’s planning, it’s going to be ugly,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Ugly enough to keep you from going to that concert?”

“No,” Dax said, once again rising to his feet. “Ugly enough that now I
know
I’m going. I’m sure his stooge won’t show up for a while yet, and once he does, I’m absolutely certain I won’t be taking any vacations for a long, long time.”

Fletch smiled sadly. “It’s good to be the alpha.”

“Yeah,” Dax said. “It is. Sometimes. Get Jack Creighton on the phone. I need to make sure he knows the news, but I just can’t stand to smell him right now.”

Fletch cocked a half grin. “I hear that. When are you leaving?”

Dax shrugged. “Tonight, I guess. The whole shindig starts tomorrow, runs through Sunday.”

“Are you sure you’re not too old for this? You did just say “shindig” after all.”

“I’m spry and vigorous, I’ll have you know. My complete failure of a love life isn’t something you need to hang over my head.”

Fletch picked up the phone, mindlessly dialing the numbers. “I’m not the one who brought
that
up, big guy,” she said. “Freud would have a field day with you. But for what it’s worth, I hope you find her.”

Before he could answer with a witty retort, she handed him the receiver. “Creighton’s on.”

Dax winced as the old bear on the other end wheezed loudly, and spat. “Daxon Mark,” he said, in his thick, almost unintelligible accent. “What can I do ya for?”

“Listen, Jack,” Dax said, “I just heard from Wyatt. Apparently, he’s got some ‘plans.’”

“Huh,” Creighton grunted. “I guess he’ll be trying to take the town over again?”

“Can’t slip anything past you,” Dax said. “To be honest, I have no idea what he’s planning, but given his track record, it’s not going to be easy to deal with.”

“I hear that, son,” Jack said with another
splort
following. “If we’re lucky, he’ll get bored and move on again.”

Dax laughed shortly. “Yeah, well, I doubt that somehow. But listen, I’m going out of town for a few days on, uh, business. Fletch and Rollins will be on the horn if you hear of anything that needs attention.”

“Business, huh? You chasin’ tail somewhere? You know, ol’ Jack Creighton used to be one helluva stud back in the olden days. Mayhaps I could teach you a couple lessons on bagging a—ow!”

Creighton’s voice became slightly more distant. “Damn it all, Loretta, why’d you throw your shoe at me?”

“His mate hit him with a shoe,” Dax deadpanned with his hand in front of the receiver’s mouthpiece. “What the hell did I ever do to deserve this?”

Fletch smiled.

“Anyways,” Jack said, voice back in Dax’s ear, “you be careful out there. You might be able to pick up a small tractor, but that won’t do you no good if someone gets the jump on you. If’n Wyatt really is wantin’ to knock you off your block, it’d be a lot easier wherever it is you’re goin’ than back in clan territory.”

“Yeah,” Dax said. “I will.”

He closed his eyes, and leaned his huge head back against the wood-paneled wall of Kendal Creek most luxurious office space. All he could think about is finding that girl. He knew it was a one in a billion shot, but he had the distinct impression he’d go insane if he didn’t. “I guess that settles it,” he said. “I’m going to go to Denver, I’m going to get roaring drunk, and I’m going to listen to music no one has cared about since the 90s.”

“Jeez,” Fletch said. “That sounds about like someone came up with a list of ‘Everything Daxon Likes’ and then made a concert out of it.”

Smiling, Dax nodded. “Yeah, it kinda does, huh?”

“Have fun,” she said. “And make sure you get back in one piece. I’m not sure this town would survive Wyatt’s meddling without our alpha.”

“I will, and I promise,” Dax said. “Hell, you never know. I might come back with a mate. Can’t ever tell.”

“That’ll be the day,” Fletch said.

As the big bear tromped out of the office, she watched him leave, and then watched the door swing shut. “I guess stranger things have happened though. Right?”

––––––––

W
hen the phone rang, I was on it like a coked-up chicken on... well, whatever coked-up chickens like. The past two days had been a flurry of excitement, the sort that only comes when a person’s mind is made up to do something half radical and half crazy. My decision was certainly both of those.

“Karen?” I asked as I picked up the receiver.

“Jeez, you a little excited?” she was giggling. Hearing that sound took me back to before Dan turned on the asshole mode, when life was good – like I hoped it would be again soon.

“Yeah well, things haven’t been so great around here for a while. Seeing you guys is going to be incredible.” I was almost vibrating with excitement, but I couldn’t possibly tell her what I was planning. I’ve seen enough TV cop shows to know you never do that. “Getting out of the house is a rare treat.”

She didn’t respond to that, probably because no sane person would know how. Dan was so good at covering up all of his cracks and faults with outsiders that she couldn’t possibly know what he’d spent the last couple of years doing to me.

“Dan coming?”

I thought for a second. How could I answer that?
Why no, I’m planning to clock him with a baseball bat and drop him in a river before we go out. Don’t worry though, he’s fine with it.
“Nah, I think he has to work. Or something. Anyway, nah it’ll just be me.”

“Good,” she said, which struck me as slightly strange. “Not that... I mean...”

“Don’t worry about it. He can certainly come on a little thick.” Normally, I’d expound on how he was a good guy, just a little strange sometimes, but not this time. I was through defending him to everyone on earth. He didn’t deserve it. Didn’t deserve me.

“Okay, well, see you at five?”

“Actually let’s make it a little later? Maybe six? I’ve got,” I coughed, “just a thing I need to do.”

“Yeah sure,” she said. “You want us to pick you up?”

No, I don’t want you to see the blood
, I thought. Like there would be any blood. Like my stupid plan was even going to work in the first place. “I’ll drive up there. Finnegan’s, right?”

“The one and only. I hope you get your throat pipes all lubed up, because I’m going to make you sing the worst shit in the world tonight.”

I laughed, relieving my nerves with a tiny shot of a break. I looked over at the couch where my Louisville Slugger had been set since Dan left that morning. That gave me another breath of relief. And then, I thought about Mister Mystery.
God, why can I not get him out of my head? I must be crazy. Must be.