Eventide of the Bear (The Wild Hunt Legacy #3) (38 page)

As the cubling trotted back to finish putting her game away, Emma’s face tightened. Genevieve’s arrival might send the happy child back into a terrified waif.

Ryder set his book down and sat up. “What’s wrong, Emma?” he asked in a quiet voice.

Still sitting, Ben studied her, and his brows drew together.

She gave a meaningful glance toward Minette. “We can talk later.”

Ryder caught on immediately. His expression turned to concrete.

At the rise of tension, Minette quieted. Her thumb slid into her mouth.

Emma pulled in a slow breath. The child was overly sensitive to moods around her. Someday, the hard-won talent would serve her well, but it hurt to see a child so insecure.

“Look how late it’s gotten,” Emma said. “I think it’s time a kitten had a bath, don’t you?”

“Aye,” Ryder agreed.

“Minette, since we’re not going to wash your hair tonight, do you want me to braid it and pin it on top of your head?”

Her little face lit up.

“Why don’t you run up to my room and pick out a scrunchie?”

As the cub dashed up the stairs, Emma sank down beside Ryder. “Genevieve attended the pack meeting and told them she’s moving here. And that you’re violent.”

Ryder grunted as if he’d taken a fist to his stomach. But he put an arm around her and pulled her close enough to share his body heat. “Easy, bard. We’ll work out whatever we need to work out.”

Emma scowled. “Why can’t people tell that she’s lying? Her scent should show it, if nothing else.”

“She wears human perfume,” Ryder said.

Emma wrinkled her nose. “Ewwww.” The cloying “fragrances” of the humans were nose-clogging torture. “Hmm. Can’t we go to the Cosantir? Wouldn’t he be able to make her tell the truth? And go away?”

Ben rose to his feet, his sheer size incredibly reassuring, and tucked the board game on a bookshelf. When Emma had arrived, the shelves held only a handful of Ben’s history books, but games and toys had been appearing until no free space remained.

“Calum might help,” Ben said. “But calling on him might be chancy. It’s true that Cosantirs don’t tolerate lying, but they’re also very traditional. And, far as I know, cubs always stay with the dam.”

“But she hurt Minette.”

“Aye. And, since Calum has a good heart, he might take steps to ensure the cub’s safety. That doesn’t mean he’ll pick a couple of males to raise a female cub. He might hand Minette back to Genevieve with someone ordered to supervise. Or require Genevieve to move into the wolf pack quarters.”

“Oh.” She certainly knew the dangers of a Cosantir’s Judgment. Avoiding Calum might be a better idea. “You have a point.”

Ben touched her hair as he walked past. “Like Ryder said. We’ll manage.”

Ryder looked up. “Where are you going? You cooked, so it’s my night to clean.”

“I need to do something. Scrubbing the fuck out of something will work.”

Emma frowned. “The kitchen’s clean already. Even that marker stain on the floor where Minette tried to draw a frog is gone.”

“Can’t be clean. Ryder always leaves a mess,” Ben said and disappeared. The lights came on.

Emma and Ryder followed him, trailed by Minette who clutched a bright pink scrunchie.

“Whoa, I didn’t know kitchens could shine like this,” Ryder said.

Ben grinned. “Never happened to me, but I’ve seen the Cosantir’s kitchen this spotless. And Zeb and Shay’s.”

Emma tilted her head. “You hired Jody and her crew to clean here?”

Ben’s laugh rumbled out before he pulled her against his body, kissing her lightly. Just his scent, his touch, the strength in his arms left her leaning against him, trying to remember the conversation.

Cleaning. Right.

“Nope.” He’d turned her and pointed to the far wall. A small hole showed in the baseboard.

“That wasn’t there before.” Ryder picked up Minette, settling her on his hip.

“I think we’ve acquired a pair of brownies,” Ben said. “We’ll need to leave out cream and cookies for them.”

Emma wrapped her arms around Ben and hugged him hard. In the old tales, which apparently were still true, the house-cleaning brownies served families in exchange for goodies. But they only lived with families.
Happy
families.

Ryder’s face held an unfamiliar expression, much like the wonder of a cub seeing the moon for the first time.

“Cookies and cream?” Pulling in a deep breath, Emma used one of Ben’s favorite phrases, “I’ll get right on that.”

‡

L
ate the next
afternoon, Ben walked into the grocery store and crossed to the dairy section to pick up a carton of cream.

Cookies had been on his list, as well, but the honey bear must have spent the morning baking. At lunch, she’d swung by the construction site and dropped off a sackful of cookies for him and the crew.

Seems Ryder told her how much Ben enjoyed peanut butter cookies.

He shook his head. She was always doing little things that said she’d been thinking of him, that she cared enough to discover his tastes. She did the same with Ryder. Was this what having a mother would have been like?

Who knew? Not him or Ryder. In fact, none of them, including Minette, had grown up with a mother’s affection.

Emma’s mother had certainly not taught her how to care for a family, but everything she did showed him and Ryder what they’d missed. And Minette drank in Emma’s care and attention like a drought-starved plant. Must be instinct that showed Emma how to be a mother.

Neither he nor Ryder, nor Emma, either, had been blessed with mated parents to use for examples. But they were slowly moving into a real relationship. From friends to lovers.

He’d wanted her since the moment he saw her, but now…now that he liked her, loved her, and had mated her…the need was constant. He was worse than a testosterone-overloaded young male lusting after her from waking to sleeping. Ryder was in the same shape.

Apparently so was Emma. She’d been generously dividing her nights between them. And letting herself be lured into extras.

With a smile, he rubbed the itching scratches on his chest. Because Ryder’d been shaken to hear Genevieve was back, Emma spent the night with him. This morning, after Ryder had left, Ben had visited her bedroom to report Minette was still asleep and he was leaving.

Just out of the shower, the honey bear had been all soft and damp. The dawn light had set her hair aglow and burnished her heat-flushed skin with gold. Her eyes had still been sleepy when she saw him, but the scent in the room had quickly changed to interest.

That was all it took. Before she could move, he’d stripped off her towel and tossed her on the bed, starting them on the day’s journey in the most old-fashioned of ways. Even without the full moon’s influence, she…roused…to him easily. Hell, the female could be delightfully demanding.

And snuggly. Fuck, he hadn’t been able to let her go and had ended up late to work.

His construction crew teased him all day about the lateness—and the bite marks she’d left on his neck.

Nevertheless, having her dividing her time between him and Ryder wasn’t how he wanted their family—
fuck, he loved that word
—their
family
to operate. When she was more at ease, he and Ryder would enjoy her favors together as littermates should.

And he’d started using his fingers to prepare her for taking them both at the same time. Fuck, she’d been adorably shocked. Giving an exasperated huff, he unobtrusively adjusted his sudden hard-on.

With the carton of cream in hand, he stepped up the cash register.

Old Albert Baty grinned at him. “Either the bard has started taking cream in her coffee, or you got yourselves some brownies.”

Ben grinned. “Appeared yesterday. Never seen the kitchen so clean.”

“The OtherFolk are something.” As the door to the store opened, Baty glanced over. His mouth pulled down as if he’d bitten into days-old carrion.

Following his gaze, Ben saw Genevieve in the doorway. A glance at the wide storefront window told him she’d undoubtedly seen him from the sidewalk.
Fuck
.

“Ben.” Her smile was sweet. Innocent.

He’d once watched an assassin bug tap lightly on a spider web. The spider thought it’d caught a fly. Hurried over. And died. What ambush had she planned for him? Ben nodded and turned away.

Moving far too close, she touched his arm. “I’ve come to ask you to return my child. I know you’re not a thief like your brother.”

“He’s no thief,” Ben growled. “Minette is his cub. I gave you my answer before—you’ll get no money from us. And you won’t get Minette.”

She burst into tears. Her voice rose until the entire store could hear. “Please, please, cahir, make your brother give my little cub back. I love her so much. How could he steal her from me?”

Oh. Fuck.
He was aware of the shoppers watching, enthralled by the scene. “You didn’t take care of her,” he said. “You hurt her, neglected her. I should—”

“Ryder was the one who hurt her—and me.” She yanked at Ben’s arm, sobbing loudly. Tears streamed down her face. “She doesn’t even talk since he took her from me. She needs her mommy.”

“By the God, Ryder would never hurt a female. No one would believe that.” Ben jerked away.

She staggered back as if he’d hit her. “How can you be so cruel? No male, especially an abusive one like him, should care for a little child. I’ll-I’ll do something.” She looked around the store. “I know the decent people here won’t let this happen to a mother whose only crime is being poor.”

“You lying—”

Before he could finish, Genevieve ran from the store, leaving stunned silence in her wake.

“Piece of work, that one,” Baty rang up the cream and took the money Ben held out.

In the aisles, people were still staring at Ben.

“She was the one who hurt Minette. Starved her,” he told them. His words weren’t smooth and polished like Genevieve’s, but were the clumsy fumblings of a grizzly.

As Ben left the store, he felt the heavy weight of the
audience’s
disapproving regard. And heard the first whispers begin.

‡

E
ver since Genevieve’s
return from Farway two days ago, the tension in Cold Creek, and in Ben’s little family, had increased.

On Friday at the construction site, the stench of animosity toward Ryder had grown until Ben was ready to go on a grizzly rampage.

All the crews knew Ryder. Liked him. Even when buried in his finicky custom woodworking, he’d stop and lend a hand to whoever needed one. The younger males appreciated having Ryder available to answer questions; the older ones liked having the extra help. Now, suddenly, half the crew wasn’t talking to him; they were glaring at him.

Genevieve must have said something to influence them.

Ryder was never talkative, but as the morning went on, the cat had withdrawn. Finally, he’d simply packed his tools and left.

Ben growled under his breath. Over the past month, Ryder had changed, had been happy. With Emma’s loving care, his contentment had radiated from him like rays from the sun. But when he’d left today, the cynical lines were back in his face. His defenses had slid into place.

By the God.

And yet every male on the crew was a good one; Ben didn’t hire assholes. A lot of the shifters really did believe Ryder’d done something wrong.

Ben set a nail in place and smacked it in so forcefully he dented the fucking wood beneath as well, which pissed him off. Good thing the spot would be covered by trim.

Sweat trickled down his face. The late morning air was starting to heat up. With an annoyed grunt, Ben stripped off his flannel shirt and continued working.

“Boss, got a visitor here for you.” The call came from Kenner in the front room.

Now what? Wishing for a hellhound on which to vent his anger, Ben stomped outside.

Alec stood on the front lawn, hands in his jeans pockets, surveying the work being done. “Got a minute?”

“Sure.” Ben detoured to the cooler on the tailgate of his truck, pulled out water, and tossed another bottle to the cahir. “You here in your official Sheriff role?”