Gifted To The Bear: A Paranormal Shapeshifter Romance (The Gifted Series Book 1) (5 page)

CHAPTER FOUR

Making a bit of heat rise to my face, Jim looked deeply into my eyes for a long moment. Right before clearing his throat. “All right, well, take the day tomorrow to get unpacked and settled in. You’ll probably meet a few people around here... maybe make a few friends.”

“Okay.”

“Then, Monday, first thing, you’ll join us all for training exercises in the morning.”

I just looked at him for a moment. “I’ll join you all for... for—”

“For training exercises. There’s a large field just to the west of the village. That’s where we all meet for ‘practice’ a few days out of the month. Sometimes, we all get together more often. It’s needed so that us shifters and you Gifteds can learn to fight well together, so that—”

“But... but I’m not going to be—”

“Don’t worry. Us shifters do the patrols along the northern line making sure that none of the Angels are able to slip into our territory. Most of you Gifteds have a lot less responsibility and a lot more free time. So—”

“But I won’t be fighting, Jim. Not ever. So, as far as what you said about ‘practice’ I don’t think—”

“Well, regardless of what you
think
, you
will
be joining us for training exercises. Everyone in Timberline participates.”

I just stared at Jim for what felt like an excruciatingly long moment. “Not me. I won’t be. I won’t be participating at all.”

Looking at me while clenching his strong, square jaw, Jim stood up straight from his lean against the wall. “You
will
be participating, Avery. We’re a community—a family of sorts here in Timberline—and we all help. We all pitch in to do what we can.”

“But—”

“That doesn’t mean that everyone fights on the front lines. That doesn’t mean that everyone is directly responsible for holding the Angels back. But everyone is absolutely expected to help in whatever way they can, to the best of their ability. Which includes participating in training exercises that make us all stronger as a group. Which includes every single one of you Gifteds practicing her power, to try to—”

“No. I don’t care what you say, Jim, I won’t. I won’t practice, I won’t participate, I won’t do any of that.”

As if he were suddenly my enemy, instead of a man who’d carried me to my cabin, I’d taken a few steps back from him.

Now he took a few steps closer to me. “You
will
, Avery. I won’t require you to participate in fighting before you’re ready, but as far as being present at training—”

“But... the agent lady made it sound like all I had to do was just come here. She didn’t say there would be any forced participation in—”

“Well, ‘the agent lady’ doesn’t run this place. I do.”

Standing not a foot away from me, Jim looked deeply into my eyes, as if to impress upon me what he’d just said.

However, I wasn’t in the mood to have anything impressed upon me. In fact, I wanted Jim to just leave me the hell alone.

Breaking eye contact with him, I folded my arms across my chest. “You can just go. I was woken up at three in the morning, and I think I’d like to unpack, and then finally try to get some more sleep.”

Going around me, Jim took a few more steps into the living room and set my duffel bag beside the couch. “That’s fine.”

“And, in fact, I’ll probably be resting and unpacking the whole day tomorrow, so I’d appreciate it if I didn’t see you at all.”

“That’s fine.”

“You can just leave me alone for the whole day tomorrow.”

“Great.”

Jim had green eyes. When he’d been in the small, dimly-lit foyer, I’d thought of them as a dark, jewel green, but now, as he moved from the living room back to the foyer, they seemed to change shade, becoming more of a mossy green, or a hunter green. A green with just the faintest hint of gold.

“I’ll be sure not to disturb you in your setting up of your easel tomorrow.”

With my blood instantly boiling, though I didn’t even know exactly why, I just sputtered for a couple of seconds. “You damn well better not. And if you do—if you even dare—I’ll kick you out of this cabin so fast your—”

“You’ll kick me out of this cabin I built?”

Like earlier, Jim’s mouth was now twitching with amusement. And despite my anger, I couldn’t help but notice what a perfect mouth he had, what a sensuous mouth. With a bottom lip about twice as full as the upper, it was a perfectly proportioned mouth, one that seemed to beg for a kiss, I realized with a strange mix of shock and something that felt like shame.

“Yes. Yes, I’ll kick you the hell out of this cabin that
you
built. Because it’s
my
cabin now. And you are...” Struggling mightily, I lifted my gaze from his lips to his eyes. “You are so not welcome here.”

After lifting his broad shoulders in a shrug, Jim opened the front door. “Fair enough. This
is
your cabin now.”

“You’re damned right it is.”

“But just so you know, if you need anything, I’m just two cabins away. My cabin is the last to the north.”

This conciliatory comment kind of slowed me in my angry tracks a little, so I said nothing.

Heading out the door, Jim gave me a last look over his shoulder. “Goodnight, Avery. Or good morning. Whatever way you want to see things.”

And then he was gone, closing the door behind him.

With my anger and irritation already cooling, I just stood in the living room, hugging my ribs. I knew I’d been rude. I knew I’d sounded like a complete brat. However, I really hadn’t liked being told that I
was
going to participate in training exercises with the rest of the Timberliners. As far as I was concerned, me doing so would be pointless. Since I was never going to actually fight the Angels, it seemed like I may as well just stay out of everyone’s way while they practiced.

After a few moments spent just kind of huffing, trying to muster my previous level of anger and indignation but not quite able to do it, I grabbed my duffel bag and went off to find the bedroom; which wasn’t that hard, being that the cabin was fairly small. It was just a short walk down a hallway that led from the living room. Across from the sparsely-furnished bedroom was a laundry room with washer, dryer, and wire-rack shelving unit, and next to the laundry room was a bathroom with beautiful cabinetry made from the same light, honey-colored wood as all the flooring in the cabin. The wood-planked walls throughout the cabin were a little darker, a warm shade close to amber.

After unpacking my big duffel bag, I went out to explore the kitchen, which, along with the living room and foyer, was part of an open floor plan. The only thing separating the kitchen from the living room was an unusual ledge-slash-bookcase, with a few potted ferns on top and at least a hundred books lining the shelves. Anchored to the wall, it provided a nice divider for the living and eating spaces, not to mention that it was just pretty to look at. Like everything else about the rustic, cozy cabin, I loved it.

A quick look in the fridge and pantry revealed them both to be fairly well-stocked, and, realizing I was a bit hungry, I had thoughts about making something for breakfast. However, looking out one of a couple of windows in the kitchen and seeing that the dark sky was giving way to pale, pre-dawn light, I ultimately decided against it. Not surprisingly, considering the stress and upheaval I’d been through, and how early I’d been awoken, I was exhausted, and I felt like I should try to catch an extra hour or two of sleep while I could. I had no way of knowing when the movers would be arriving with all my possessions later that day, and I didn’t want to be zonked out when they did.

I quickly got ready to sleep, changing into pajamas and brushing my teeth for the second time that night. Except that this time, it was actually morning, technically. The first time I’d went to bed was beginning to feel like days earlier, though it had only been about seven hours.

My bed, which had a headboard made from the same polished, rough-hewn timber as the coffee table in the living room, was incredibly comfortable; not two minutes after I’d pulled the thick comforter over myself, I was out like a light.

A few hours later, I was awoken by the sound of a loud boom coming from somewhere in the cabin. Or, at least, I thought it had been a boom, but coming out of some hazy dream, I couldn’t really be sure. Maybe the sound I’d heard had been part of the dream.

With my eyes open a crack, I saw that it was somewhere around eight or nine, probably, judging by the bright sunshine streaming in through cracks in the sage green curtains. Opening my eyes fully, I slowly sat up. Almost instantaneously, I heard another boom from somewhere in the cabin, though this was a quieter boom. Just a little boom. But now I could tell that someone was definitely in my cabin, a thought that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

Being that I was pretty sure that Jim would have the decency to knock, I had no idea who the intruder could be. It seemed like the movers would have the decency to knock, too.

After silently rolling out of bed, I grabbed my phone from the nightstand, then crept over to my bedroom door, which was half-ajar. There, I hesitated, wondering if I should dial 911. On one hand, this was my knee-jerk reaction upon hearing an intruder in what was now my home, and it seemed like a wise action. But on the other hand, I wondered if Timberline was outside of regular Ridgewood law enforcement’s jurisdiction. Also, it seemed like it probably might be quicker and easier to just summon help from the former sheriff of Ridgewood, who was just two cabins away. I didn’t have his phone number, though.

Several long seconds ticked by while I debated. Ultimately, I decided to just call out through my bedroom door and listen for a response. If someone answered and I didn’t like the sound of it, for whatever reason, or if I heard nothing, indicating the intruder probably meant me harm and was trying to stay hidden, I supposed I could just escape the cabin through a bedroom window, hopefully before the intruder reached me.

A quick peek beyond the door frame told me that the intruder wasn’t in the living room, or at least they probably weren’t, because I had a view of most of it, and I couldn’t see anyone. The intruder had to be in the kitchen. Just after my peek, more noise, the sound of footfalls I was pretty sure, confirmed my thinking.

I knew calling out probably wasn’t the most cautious thing to do, but I was just going to do it, unable to bear the thought of escaping out a window to run to Jim’s, only to have the both of us discover that the intruder in my cabin was just a mover.

More noise from the kitchen spurred me into action, and finally, with my heartbeat racing a bit, I took a deep breath, cupped my hands around my mouth, and called out to the intruder.

“Who’s out there?”

Almost immediately, I received a response, and it wasn’t quite what I’d been expecting.

*

Although I
had
really thought that a criminal intruder in my cabin was a possibility, in my gut I just hadn’t felt like a criminal could be lurking around Timberline without Jim knowing about it. So, when I’d called out, I’d really been expecting to hear a male voice, the voice of one of the movers who was supposed to be bringing my stuff. But the voice I’d just heard replying to me with a cheerful hello and a good morning definitely hadn’t sounded like a mover’s, and it wasn’t a male voice at all. It was the voice of a female, and a very young one, from what it had sounded like, maybe even a young girl; at the oldest, a teenaged girl. And now, before I could respond to her hello and good morning, this mystery young female called out again.

“It’s just the breakfast patrol out here! Good morning!”

Jim hadn’t mentioned anything about a “breakfast patrol.” I wasn’t even sure exactly what a “breakfast patrol” was. While I wracked my brain, trying to think if Jim had said anything about breakfast at all, maybe something I hadn’t really been paying attention to at the time, the member of the “breakfast patrol” called out to me again.

“All sorts of good breakfast things going on out here! Just come on out and see! Doesn’t even matter if you’re still in your pajamas, I’m still in mine. Just come on out here and see what the breakfast patrol has got cookin’!”

Thoroughly mystified, but not knowing what else to do, I followed the voice’s instructions and made my way out to the kitchen. There, to my surprise, I found the little redheaded girl I’d seen in Ridgewood before. Now at a much shorter distance, I could see that she wasn’t exactly a
little
girl; her face made me think she was somewhere in her middle teen years. She was definitely
little
, though, standing only an inch or two over five feet tall, if that, and she couldn’t have weighed more than ninety pounds soaking wet.

Standing at a small, butcher-block island in the middle of the kitchen, she looked up from a carton of eggs with a smile. “Good morning! Do you like scrambled eggs?”

It looked like she had scrambled eggs all over the front of her pale pink pajama top, though they were uncooked. It looked like at least a half-dozen eggs had been pelted at her, or she’d smashed them all over herself, though I couldn’t understand why she might have done that. I couldn’t quite understand why this girl was in my kitchen, either.