Hunt (The Grizzly Brothers Chronicles Book 1) Page 3

  “I was just kidding.” Somehow I cared. I didn’t like the change. She wouldn’t open up as much if she were uptight, and I needed her to trust me.

  “Whatever.” She headed toward the main driveway where my two-year-old Ford waited. I’d hated to say goodbye to my old Ram, but it had died on me.

  She reached for the door handle, but I blocked her hand. “I can do that.”

  “Is this more of the whole ‘we’re gentleman out here’ stuff?”

  “It’s not stuff.”

  “I am more than capable of getting myself into a truck.”

  “But I am also capable of helping you in.” As well as helping her with a host of other more enjoyable things. More of my thoughts were moving to a place they shouldn’t be. I needed to keep it cool. This was my brother’s death I was searching for information on.

  “Not a chance.” She stepped up, and I took a moment to admire the back view. Every single angle of her was easy on the eyes.

  I closed her door and walked around to my side. “You ready for your tour?”

  “Sure.” She buckled her seatbelt.

  “What have you seen?”

  “I’ve gone into the downtown.” She rested her hand on the bench between us.

  “But not the outskirts?”

  “No. There’s been no reason to head out there.”

  “There’s always a reason to head out there.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s where the sunset is the most perfect, and where I live. Pick your reason.” I backed out of the drive.

  “You live outside of town?” She asked with genuine surprise. I couldn’t imagine Jonovan wouldn’t have brought that up. He liked to brag about our land.

  “Focusing on that one, eh?” I teased.

  “It’s the only one I have a question about.”

  “Yes. I have a place a few miles out with some land.” I left out the word ranch. She’d figure that out herself.

  “Do you live there alone?”

  I wondered where her question was going. “I share the land with my family, but we don’t all live in the same house.”

  “Gotcha.” She looked out the window.

  “You have a big family back home?” This was about her and not me.

  She turned back to look at me. “No.”

  “That’s it?”

  “What?” She touched her neck.

  “Just going to say no? How many siblings? Your parents still together?”

  “No siblings. My parents are dea—” She stopped and stared at her hands.

  “Dead?” I finished the word for her.

  “Uh, my mom is. My dad is out there somewhere I guess.” She chewed her bottom lip.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I had a grandfather who gave me everything.”

  “Had?” I asked carefully.

  “He died a few months ago.”

  “Is that why you’re here?” I asked.

  “I’m here for work.”

  “What kind of work?” I knew about the attorney, but I wondered how open she’d be with me.

  “Why does it matter?” She tensed. “How is it important to this at all?”

  I drove through the downtown slowly. “You should be used to the questions. You’ve been here nearly a week.”

  “I’ve mostly kept to myself.”

  “Aside from the professor.”

  “Excuse me?”

  I’d blown it. I shouldn’t have known that. “Mrs. Peterson mentioned it.”

  “He’s an old family friend.” She stretched out her legs and crossed them at the ankles. “And he was my Torts professor.”

  “Torts?” I was going to either sound stupid or smart. “You in law school?”

  “Yeah. Just finished my first year.”

  “Cool. I hear that’s the hardest year.”

  “They say that.” She looked out the window again.

  “So why are you working out here?” I tried to pull her attention back. I wanted her attention on me.

  “It’s a case Professor Daniels was brought in on. I’m here as a research assistant.”

  “Ok. What case?”

  “Can we stop talking?” Her shoulders were tense. I wanted to ease that tension.

  “Did I do something wrong?”

  “I want to enjoy this.” She pointed out the window.

  I smiled despite myself. “Absolutely. Enjoy.” I reached over and turned on the radio.

  “Thanks,” she mumbled before turning her complete attention to the window. If there was ever a reason to have a girl tell me to stop talking, taking in the scenery was the one. Mara was turning out to be far more interesting than I originally thought.

  7

  Mara

  I watched the distant mountains as Ian drove away from town. I’d packed my hiking gear in the hopes I’d have some time to get out to the mountains, but so far the chance hadn’t come up. Or I’d chickened out. I’d never done it on my own, and it definitely wasn’t something Connor was going to do with me.

  I’d known Connor my entire life. We’d grown up as neighbors. His family had helped run my grandfather’s farm, and he’d spent more time in my house than his own. I never really understood why.

  He’d been much happier about leaving the rural life than I had been. He was ten years older, and I was only eight when he left for college, but the message had been clear. He never intended to come back. He did occasionally. Holidays, a few spring breaks, but as the years wore on those visits were even less. I hadn’t spoken to him in two years before I walked into his class that past fall. He hadn’t been surprised to see me, and he never once called me by my first name. I played along as well. It was hard to get used to calling him anything but professor now. It was almost as if those early years had been wiped away. Still, we had a shared past, and my classmates picked up on it, confusing what we shared as meaning I was spending time in his bed.

  None of it mattered until I saw my grandfather’s note. Connor was the only one who was going to give me any answers, but I wasn’t looking forward to bringing it up. We never talked about anything other than law now.

  “It’s beautiful out here.” I broke the silence that permeated the truck.

  “I know.” Ian’s voice sounded far off.

  I tore my eyes away from the window. “So you’ve always lived here?”

  “Yeah. Never saw a reason to leave. It’s in my blood.”

  “I can see the appeal.”

  “You’ll miss it when you leave. This town gets under your skin. I’ve seen many people leave and come back.”

  “I miss being out in the country in general.”

  “You’re really not from the city?”

  “I grew up on a dairy farm.”

  “A dairy farm?” Ian laughed.

  “What? You guys have cows out here.” I was used to the laughter from my peers in school, but I expected a different response from this small-town guy.

  “We do. And we have nearly a thousand cattle, but that’s not a dairy farm. It’s a ranch.”

  “Our cows produce milk. Still cows.”

  “Did you milk them?” He took his eyes off the road for a moment to look at me.

  “The cows?”

  “What else would you be milking?” He shook his head.

  “We also have goats.”

  He laughed harder.

  “What?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “There’s nothing wrong with where I come from.”

  “No.” He composed himself. “It’s just picturing you milking goats.”

  “Have you tried fresh goat milk?” I asked. “There’s nothing else like it.”

  “Can’t say I’ve tried it.”

  “See, you’re missing out.”

  “I’ll have to take your word for it.”

  “Well, thanks for the scenic drive.” I assumed he’d be turning around soon.

  “We’re not done yet.”

  “Oh.”


  “Did you forget, I have to change?”

  “Oh.” For the first time I considered the intelligence of my decision to drive all the way out of town with a man I didn’t know, but Mrs. Peterson seemed to know him, and considering she’d made me sign a full page document of all the things I couldn’t do as her tenant, at least half of which related to male visitors, I couldn’t imagine she’d have recommended I go off with some psychopath, but still, I didn’t really know her either. But there was nothing I could do about it now. Too little, too late.

  “You lost in thought again?”

  “Again?” I calmed my nerves. He was most likely exactly what he seemed. A guy being nice to make an old woman happy.

  “I’ve tried to talk to you a few times, but you’re zoned out.”

  “Sorry. I’m a little tired.”

  “Long day?”

  “Ok, I’m just going to get this part over with.” I let out a deep breath.

  “What part?”

  “You were at the cemetery this morning, right?” I watched him out of the corner of my eye.

  “That was me.” His face remained expressionless.

  “Ok. Good.” I sighed with relief.

  “Good?” He looked over at me.

  “I wanted to make sure you were really there.”

  “Because you thought you imagined me?” He narrowed his eyes.

  “Possibly.” I stared down at my hands.

  “Is that something you do a lot?”

  “Not a lot.” I couldn’t believe I’d admitted that out loud, but I had. There was no pretending I hadn’t let those words slip out.

  Surprisingly, he didn’t look at me like I was crazy. “Ok, well I was there.”

  “Why were you there?” I assumed it wasn’t the same reason as me.

  “You tell me first.”

  “Why? I asked first.”

  “Because I answered your question and reassured you that you weren’t imagining things. It’s my turn.” He smiled.

  “Fine. But this is going to make me sound crazy.”

  “Crazier than imagining people when they aren’t really there?”

  He had a point. I’d already said too much. “I didn’t want that man to be buried alone.”

  “What do you mean?” He slowed down the truck.

  “Wherever I live, I contact the coroner and local religious leaders. I ask to be notified if someone is going to be buried alone.”

  “And someone called you about the man this morning?”

  “Yes. They said he had no family in the area or elsewhere.”

  He tightened his hands on the wheel. “Oh.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” He shook his head.

  “Why were you there?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” He sped up again. “Wait.”

  “Yes?”

  “Why don’t you want them buried alone? They’re dead. They don’t know.”

  “No one deserves to be buried alone.” I felt tears well in my eyes as I heard the explanation in my grandfather’s voice. He’d been insistent it was worth doing even though the person would never know we were present. I missed my grandfather so much it hurt. He’d been sick for a while, but his death still took me by surprise. He was the only family I had, and I wasn’t ready to accept I was now completely alone.

  “You okay?” Ian asked with concern.

  “Fine. Sorry, so your turn. Why were you there?”

  “I was out for a walk.” He looked straight ahead.

  “A walk?”

  “Yup.” He opened the driver side window.

  “In the rain?”

  “It wasn’t raining when I left. It’s probably why you didn’t have an umbrella either.” He put his hand out the window and moved it around in the wind.

  “True.” Technically what he was saying made sense, yet something about it didn’t sit right. “Is that the truth?”

  “What’s the alternative? I also like to watch strangers get buried?”

  “No.” I felt blood rush to my face. “Forget it.”

  “Good.” He tightened his hands on the wheel.

  “All right, how far are we from your house?”

  “We’re almost there.” He pointed out the windshield. “Right up there. See that building?”

  “Yeah.” I squinted and saw something in the distance.

  “That’s the first building on our land.”

  “Cool.”

  “You okay walking around in those?” He gestured to my flip flops.

  “I guess so.”

  “Then I’ll have to show you around. If you liked the view from the truck, you’re going to love this.”

  “Great.” I grabbed on to the change of subject. I couldn’t handle any more conversations about death. It was so much more difficult now that I knew how hard it was to lose someone you loved.

  8

  Ian

  She didn’t know him. I was positive now. Her story about not wanting people to be buried alone was true. It was clear in her eyes and her voice. She cared about people she didn’t know, and that was both completely foreign yet refreshing.

  I wasn’t sure why Jozef called her. It had to have been him. He’d arranged everything for us. Maybe his conscience got to him because he knew the rest of us couldn’t show up. It was the way of things. Jozef made his own decision to break the rules by calling Mara, and there would be consequences. But I’d broken the rules too. I’d shown up when it was the last place I should have been. And she’d seen me. And I’d seen her. And now we were in a situation that had no rules. At least not when it came to me.

  “Hey, do me a favor?” I pulled in through the wooden gate that served as the entrance to my family’s ranch. Although weathered from years of sun and snow, the gate would last many more years to come.

  “What is it?” She rested her chin in her hand.

  “If we run into my family, don’t mention you saw me this morning.”

  “Uh, we’re seeing your family?” Her whole body tensed.

  “Maybe.” I pretended to ignore her evident discomfort. “But if we do.”

  “Wait a second.” She held a finger up.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You live out here.”

  “Yes.” I nodded. I thought that much was obvious.

  “Then why did you walk all the way to the cemetery?” Her brows furrowed.

  Damn. I’d messed up again. I couldn’t think straight around this girl. “I drove into town and parked. I got my coffee and walked. It’s my thing on Sundays.”

  “Yet you don’t want your family to know?” She eyed me warily.

  “I skipped church.”

  Understanding crossed her face. “Got it. I won’t say a word. If you do the same for me.”

  “You don’t want people knowing about your creepy hobby?” I teased.

  “It’s not a hobby.” Her face fell. Maybe she was more sensitive than she looked.

  “I know, sorry. That was stupid to say. I think it’s good you do what you do.”

  “It’s something my grandfather always did. So I do too now. But let’s drop it. This is your place?”

  I wasn’t going to push the subject any further. It wouldn’t help either of us. “Our ranch.”

  “How big is it?”

  “1500 acres.” I was proud of our land, and I cared more than I should have about whether it impressed her.

  “That’s huge.” She was impressed, and I liked it.

  “Yup.”

  “Makes my old farm seem dinky.”

  “But we don’t have goat’s milk here. You have that.”

  She laughed. “Goat’s and cow’s milk.”

  “A milk lover’s dream.”

  She relaxed again. Thankfully. I didn’t like watching her upset. It hurt me in a way it shouldn’t have. I should have turned around and taken her home. I didn’t need any information from her about my brother. She had none to give. But I still had one other excuse beyond
the jolt and her connection. She was in town for a legal case. And I needed to know everything possible about her involvement.

  The case was my reason for giving her a tour. Well, that and her getting pissed and telling Mrs. Peterson on me. That wouldn’t help me out either. So I had two perfectly good reasons that had nothing to do with her body or the jolt from physical contact with her. Nor her pretty face. None of them. Because I could resist her and let fate lead her in another direction.

  I pulled up in front of my log-cabin style house. My brothers mostly lived in more modern homes, but I wanted rustic. Nothing beat a roaring fire in the winter, so I saw no need for heat. And the cool summer evenings made air conditioning entirely unnecessary.

  Mara pushed open her door as soon as I turned off the truck. I met her around on her side when she jumped down. “Don’t say a word. I wasn’t going to wait for you to open the door for me.”

  I laughed. “How do you know I was going to say anything?”

  “That frown on your face.”

  “Was I frowning?” I was too busy watching her hair blow in the breeze to notice. I needed to snap out of it. And fast.

  “Yes. You’re good at that.”

  “I’m good at frowning?” What was that supposed to mean?

  “Yes.” She glanced over her shoulder. “The first time I saw you. You didn’t exactly look happy.”

  “I was trying to figure out who you were.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I didn’t recognize you.” I was careful this time. I couldn’t let her know who the burial was really for.

  “Do you always scowl at strangers?”

  “You didn’t act very friendly either.” She’d moved on so fast I’d barely had a chance to see her. “You ran away.”

  “It was raining.”

  “Maybe that’s why I was frowning.”

  “You just said it was because you didn’t recognize me.” She put a hand on her hip. “Get your story straight.”

  “That and the rain.”

  “The rain you were walking in?” She rolled her eyes.

  “The rain you were standing in.”

  “So this is your house.” She nodded toward my cabin.

  “Nice conversation change.”

  “I don’t want to talk about that anymore.”