Wild Card (North Ridge #1)

It’s real, I have to tell myself. He’s real. The bear has to be gone by now.

When I went into the forest to do my business, a bear was the last thing I expected to see. To be honest, I just wanted time away from Shane. To prepare for the night ahead, to grapple with the things I’d said earlier. The mean way they left my lips. I hurt him. It hurt me.

But there it was.

The grizzly.

It hadn’t seen me yet.

I didn’t know what to do. I thought that unlike black bears, grizzlies can’t climb trees and I knew that if I ran for Shane or called for Shane, I would be fucking dead.

So I went for the nearest tree and climbed and didn’t look back.

Except when I did, the fucking bear was trying to climb too.

So much for that myth.

And then Fletcher came bounding toward the bear and I closed my eyes, not wanting to watch. The poor dog bought me time and I climbed up a few more branches until I saw him grab Fletcher by the neck and throw him where I couldn’t see. The sound of the dog’s yelp burrowing into my brain. Then the bear ran off.

I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, couldn’t cry.

I could do nothing but do what I’m doing right now.

Hold on tight and pray.

Help, help, help.

“Rachel,” I hear Shane’s voice again and I know I have to move, to say something, but I’m so fucking scared.

I manage to move my head and look down through the branches, the bottom ones broken off by the grizzly. It’s left deep grooves in the bark from its claws.

Shane and Fletcher stare up at me.

“Rachel,” he says again, his voice lower. “Are you okay?”

I can’t speak.

“Please, come down. It’s not safe to stay up there. We need to keep moving.” His voice is pleading yet so calm, like he’s got control of the entire situation. “Please. Nothing is going to happen to you. I’ve got you.”

And that’s all it takes. His words sink in. He means them. He always has been my protector. I’ve never not been safe in his arms.

“Okay,” I whisper and after a long moment I slowly start making my way down the tree, my muscles cramping as I go.

I have to jump the last bit and he catches me, arms strong and warm, immovable.

“Shane,” I cry out, holding onto him, so fucking terrified. “Oh god.”

“It’s okay,” he says, his hand cupping the back of my head as my legs wrap around his waist. “I’ve got you. I’m not letting you go. Not again.”

I don’t know how I manage to keep it together. I just want to cry and scream at everything, the fear of death still lingering. I want to unravel, completely, and I know if I do, he’s going to have a hell of a time putting me back together.

So I hold on and then I let go.

I’m lowered to the ground and he takes my hand and with his shotgun in the other, that shotgun that changed everything, he leads me out of the forest and back to the horses.

Of course, Sybil is long gone but somehow Polly is still around, standing nearby, ears flicking back and forth. She snorts softly when she sees Shane, relaxing visibly when she realizes she’s safe. He has the same power over her as he does over me.

We’re too close to the bear’s territory, so he puts me up in the saddle and then leads us away, Fletcher limping at his side but otherwise alert.

We walk into the setting sun and it might be the most brilliant sunset I’ve ever seen. Each wash of gold, purple, pink, orange looks like strokes of watercolor paint, constantly changing, thickening, fading. Everything looks more alive.

You’re alive, you’re alive, you’re alive, I tell myself. And then I don’t have to tell myself because I feel it.

When dusk settles in, purple-grey, we stop. A small creek runs past and Polly and Fletcher have a long drink. I stay up on Polly’s back, watching in silence as Shane takes off the saddle bag and starts to set up camp beside a stand of four ponderosa pines. Beyond it, the mountains rise up higher and higher. I have no idea where I am but I don’t think it matters.

Shane works quickly and with ease. Every movement is natural to him. He’s part of this earth, breathing in the same heartbeat. There’s something almost magical about him, otherworldly. I think about what he did for me, even though it broke me, he did it for me. He wanted nothing more than to protect me because he loved me so much.

And I was so lucky to have his love. No one else did. It was mine to hold, to nurture, to take care of. He trusted me with his heart and I trusted him with mine.

In the end, he never broke that trust. Not really. Just on the surface. But underneath, where the truth lies, that trust never wavered.

His love never wavered.

“Shane,” I whisper to him.

He looks up at me. Even in the hazy twilight, I can see him perfectly. The way his sweat makes his olive shirt cling to his muscles, the tawny gold of his skin, the longing in his eyes as they fix on me.

And yet he knows what I want.

What I need.

He’s all I need.

He puts down the sleeping bag and walks over to me. Grabs me by the waist and lifts me off the horse until my feet are firmly on the ground. Doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t need to.

He bends down and kisses me. One hand at the back of my neck, sweetly possessive, telling me I’m his. That I need to be his.

His lips move against mine, soft and tender, building slowly until my mouth matches his. I feel the kiss all the way in my toes, the way he holds me, the way his tongue slides against mine, stoking a fire. My nerves fizzle and snap and with each second we become more in-sync with each other. It feels right. So right.

"Shane," I whisper against his mouth and he takes my lower lip in his teeth, tugs, then runs his tongue inside the rim. Shivers explode along my spine like a row of roman candles.

"Shhhh," he says to me, his hands, large, wonderful hands, hands that love, hands that protect, they glide down over my body like he's sculpting me, relishing the curves, the way I flow. One hand goes under my top, sliding up against my skin and I'm melting all over again. It's like last night but I'm not going to stop it this time, not going to pull away. His touch, his kiss, he's bringing me back from the past and becoming my future.

I let out a small moan as his rough palm goes over my breast, pulling down the edge of my lacy bra until he brushes against my nipple. More fireworks radiate outward, a small but powerful heat that I know is taking over me, second by second.

He tugs at the edge of my shirt and pulls it up over my head, throwing it on the ground beside us. His eyes meet mine and I only see a fevered, burning want in them, like he’s lost to his own desire. He gazes down at my breasts, taking a moment to hold them with his eyes, then swiftly undoes my bra until it drops at my feet. My nipples harden in the air.