Silverback Wolf (Return to Bear Creek Book 17) Read online

  “Can we talk about this?” he asked gently. “You came onto the mountain for something. Let me help you find it?”

  “We’re looking for Wyatt,” the child said, and immediately the bear snapped her head around and glared at the small boy. “He might know where to find him.”

  “I certainly do,” Wyatt replied, moving another foot closer. “He’s right here.”

  “You’re Wyatt?” the boy asked in disbelief.

  “I am. But I don’t think I know you, or...” He pointed at the bear.

  “We don’t come from around here.” The boy’s words were cut off when the bear shifted into her human form.

  “We’re not supposed to tell other people who we are or why we’re here.” She stood with her hands on her hips, but despite her stature, and the threat she conveyed, the boy wasn’t scared.

  “That doesn’t change the fact that I’m Wyatt.” He closed the space between them, and added in a low voice, “Or that I’m your mate.”

  She turned and looked him squarely in the face, her features mostly hidden in the darkness that enveloped them, but he could make out the glint of white in her eyes, and the fullness of her lips as she pursed them, ready to speak. “I’m no one’s mate.”

  Wyatt nodded his head, the undeniable thrill of her presence making him quiver inside. “We can get to that later.” He looked down at the boy on the side of the trail. “For now, we should get you both to safety.”

  “How do you know we need to get to safety?” Monica asked suspiciously. She bent down and retrieved the boy and the backpacks, before returning to her defensive stance.

  “Because you’re wandering around in the dark on the side of a mountain.” Wyatt pointed to the child. “With a small boy. No one does that unless they are on the run.”

  “And how do I know you are Wyatt?”

  “Is there any way I can prove it?” Wyatt asked simply.

  “Perhaps.” She was silent for a moment. “Where do you live?”

  “In a cabin in the woods. You follow this path and turn left at the top of the cliff.” He pointed back the way they’d come.

  “And who exactly are you, Wyatt?”

  The question stung. Who was he? He didn’t know anymore, but that wasn’t the answer she needed. The only answer that would satisfy her was his name and rank. “You’re military?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “You are avoiding my question.”

  “I don’t share that information with anyone, not anymore.” He smiled sorrowfully. “I left that person behind when I came here.”

  Another sigh. “Then we’ll say goodbye and go back the way we came.” She took a step backward, and the bond between them wrenched at his gut. Couldn’t she feel it, too? How could she deny it?

  “I can help you.” He reached out to touch her and his fingers made contact with her jacket. A jolt of electricity shot through his fingertips and up his arm. If she experienced it, too, she ignored it and simply shook him off.

  “The only person who can help us is the Wyatt you used to be. If you really are Wyatt.” Her words were strained. She had experienced the shock of their first contact.

  “How do you know the Wyatt I am now won’t be more of a help?” he asked evasively.

  “Crap, I don’t need riddles.” Her nerves were taut, about ready to snap.

  “Then what do you need?” He softened. If he didn’t let her in, he would push her away. “You’ve come a long way to simply turn back around.”

  “My daddy sent us.”

  “Jack,” she hissed.

  “Jack.” He assessed the small child in her arms. The age fit just right. But why was she here with him? Was she his mother? Was this woman before him the wife of Sergeant Trent Willard? “Jack Willard.”

  She moved quickly, but he was faster, he wrapped his arms around them both before she could drop the child to the ground and prepare to fight.

  “Wyatt Turner. I served with Trent Willard for ten years. He married Yolanda six years ago. I didn’t go to the wedding. But she was already with child.” He loosened his grip and she sagged forward as if in relief. “Now will you let me take you to safety?”

  “Yes.” Her voice was strained, and she shifted the weight of the child on her hip and adjusted the packs. “Lead the way.”

  “I can carry something for you. Ease the burden.” His offer was dismissed, she didn’t want to show weakness and he had to restrain himself from taking the backpacks from her.

  “Nothing can ease my burden,” she told him and tightened her grip on the child. “Lead the way.”

  Wyatt didn’t ask again. She had her reasons to be suspicious. When she was ready, she would tell him all he needed to know. When she trusted him. And since they were mates, that should be soon.

  He led her back along the trail until they reached the bottom of the cliff. “This part is steep.”

  “I can manage.” She waited for him to move. “Sooner you start climbing...”

  Wyatt gave a low chuckle. “I’ll make you some dandelion coffee when we get to my cabin.”

  “Yuck,” Jack said.

  “It’s good, but then you’re too young for coffee anyway. I don’t have much else other than water from the mountain streams.”

  “Why do you hide away up here?” she asked as the trail got steeper.

  “Who says I’m hiding?” He cast a glance over his shoulder. “And if I was, why would I tell someone who hasn’t given me her name?”

  “Monica.” She ground her name out as the trail shifted under her feet, sending a stream of small stones racing down the trail. She grunted and righted herself before going on.

  “Well, Monica, I came up here to get my head together.” Did she know that? If Trent had sent her, had he also told her the history of the man she would be dealing with?

  “How long have you been up here?”

  “Long enough.” He stopped as the trail wound around to the left and offered his hand to her. “This part is tricky.”

  Monica reached out and put her hand in his, lending him her trust. He pulled her forward, his arm going around her waist as Jack shifted his weight and nearly overbalanced them. “Thanks.”

  “Another twenty feet of steep terrain and then we reach the top. It’s another mile or two to my cabin.” He struck off along the trail again, ignoring the burning sensation in his hand where their skin had touched.

  She followed, and their conversation stalled as she used all her strength to get herself and the boy to the top. When at last the trail leveled off she stopped, regaining her breath. “That was quite a climb.”

  “The rest of our journey is over level ground.” He held out his hand. “At least let me take the packs.”

  “I’m okay.” She nodded and took a step forward, then added, “Thanks for the offer.”

  It was a start. Wyatt nodded. “The ice maiden thaws.”

  “Don’t get your hopes up.”

  Did she have any idea how sky-high his hopes already were? He wanted to know everything about her. He needed to know what danger she was in, so he could help her. That was what mates did for each other. And he was her mate, no matter how much either of them wanted to deny it.

  Do we want to deny it? his wolf asked.

  When he looked inside his heart, when he examined his deepest desires, Wyatt realized that the answer was no. He didn’t want to deny it, he wanted to embrace this second chance at happiness. Despite the pain losing a mate could cause and how it could drive you to the brink of insanity and throw you off the side.

  His time in the mountains, hiding away from other people and doing penance for mistakes he’d judged himself of, was over.

  Chapter Three – Monica

  Her arms ached, her leg muscles screamed in protest. Monica put one foot in front of the other, focusing on her aching muscles, instead of the man who had found them. The man who was her mate.

  She didn’t need more pressure right now.

  A mate is supposed to ease t
he burden, her bear reminded her.

  Yeah, except this guy has been hiding on a mountain for god knows how long. We need someone to fight alongside us.

  Or someone we trust to help hide Jack. Turning away, her bear lay down in a corner of her mind.

  “Not much further,” Wyatt told her as they left the trail and entered an expanse of woodland.

  Monica slowed her pace, unsure of her footing as her boot brushed up against a tree root. If she went sprawling across the ground, she might hurt Jack, and the last thing she needed was a trek back down the mountain to a hospital.

  “You okay, buddy?” she asked Jack quietly.

  “I’m cold and tired,” he admitted.

  “We’ll soon have you tucked in bed, nice and warm,” she promised him. That at least was a promise she could keep.

  “I’m hungry, too.” He wound his fingers into her hair, which was pulled back in a ponytail.

  “I have food in my pack. Just hang in there a little longer.”

  “We’re here.” Wyatt stepped out of the trees into a clearing. The faint light from a waxing crescent moon shone down, revealing the silhouette of a small cabin. There was a hint of wood smoke in the air and her brain conjured up images of a roaring fire. How she longed to hold her hands out to the flames and warm them. Not that she was cold, her bear blood kept her warm enough. But there was something reassuring about a real fire. And Monica needed reassurance.

  Wyatt stepped up onto a wooden porch and she followed, pausing to take one last look behind them. The night pressed in on them, but the trees surrounding the cabin seemed like benevolent sentries who would not let intruders pass.

  “We’re safe.” Wyatt opened the door, his features illuminated briefly from the glow of a small lamp that spilled out of the doorway. He was middle-aged, his hair tinged silver at the temples, with strong features still resembling a man in his prime. Running her eyes down over his chest, and lower, she was glad to see he had not let his waist thicken. Monica smiled to herself. Unlike her own waistline.

  “There we go, buddy.” Monica let Jack down, her arms stiff from maintaining the same position for so long.

  The boy stumbled forward into the cabin, and she placed her hands on his shoulders while he got his legs working. Cold and tired, Jack looked as if he could lie down where he stood and sleep for hours.

  “Why don’t we get this fire burning?” Wyatt went to the hearth and gave it a prod. The embers sparked, and the glow grew brighter before he placed another log on the fire and waited for it to catch alight. Then he added another, and another, until the fire crackled and spit, spreading warmth throughout the small room.

  While Wyatt worked on the fire, Monica placed the two packs on the floor and began to sort through them. She pulled out Jack’s pajamas and his cuddly toy, which he never slept without. She paused, holding it against her breast. This was wrong. A kid this age should be safely tucked in his own bed, under the same roof as his parents, dreaming sweet dreams. Instead, Jack was in a remote cabin in the mountains with people he hardly knew.

  “Can I have Chippy?” Jack held out his hand for his cuddly toy. “Please.”

  “Sure.” She passed him the plush toy. “I was just seeing what I have for you to eat.” Monica looked down at the rations she’d packed, all nutritious, none appetizing to a five-year-old.

  “I have some honey cake,” Wyatt offered as he straightened up. “The ranger brought it up for me yesterday.”

  “Yes, please,” Jack said quickly, eying up the Army rations with distaste.

  “Is that okay with you, Monica?” Wyatt asked.

  “Sure.” Her mouth watered at the thought of honey cake, so when Wyatt returned with a slab of cake for her, too, she didn’t say no. “Thank you.”

  “I’m guessing a bear shifter has a taste for the sweet stuff.” He smiled at her, his eyes crinkling up at the corners and Monica’s heart jolted with recognition.

  “How can I say no to my bear?” Monica asked.

  “I’ll make a small bed up for the boy. You can take my bed.” Wyatt’s words did not hold the hope of an invitation into the bed, for which she was thankful. No matter how great the temptation to destroy the sexual tension between them with sex, this was not the time. Nor the place, not with Jack sleeping so close.

  “I can sleep on the sofa.” Monica placed a hand on the threadbare sofa, that had seen much better days.

  Haven’t we all, her bear responded.

  “No, please, you need a good night’s sleep.” Wyatt looked toward the doorway. “I’m going to patrol outside for a couple of hours. Then I can sleep by the door.”

  “As a wolf?” Jack asked.

  “As a wolf.” Wyatt nodded. “My wolf likes the freedom of the mountain. We often stay out late and sleep in the day.”

  “I’ve never seen a wolf before tonight,” Jack told Wyatt.

  “Jack’s a bear, too,” Monica said, and Jack bristled with pride.

  “I know. At least, I know your father was.” He glanced at Monica, attempting to glean information on their reason for being here.

  “You’ve never met Yolanda or Jack before, have you?” Trent implicitly told her Wyatt was a good friend whom she could trust. Yet he’d already admitted to not going to the wedding. Had their relationship broken down for some reason?

  “No. Trent and I go way back. We served together.” Wyatt didn’t elaborate on where they’d served. “We were close back then. But we drifted apart.”

  “Why did he tell me to find you? I figured you were good friends. A family friend.”

  Wyatt shrugged and met her gaze. “I don’t know. And unless you tell me why you’re here, I can’t help you.”

  Monica finished her cake and got up. Jack didn’t need to hear this conversation. “I’ll take your plate to the kitchen.” She bent down and retrieved the plate off a sleepy Jack. “Shall we get you ready for bed?”

  “I’ll prepare a make-shift bed.” Wyatt busied himself on the other side of the cabin, dragging over the sofa cushions and adding blankets and spare pillows. The finished bed resembled a small nest, Jack would love it.

  While she reorganized her pack, she took in her surroundings. The cabin had an open plan design, split into a kitchen area, a sitting area and a sleeping area. It was basic. Wyatt had retired from the Army and from the world. Monica still had no real idea why. But if she was to trust Wyatt, she needed a few answers herself. But first, she needed to get Jack into bed.

  “Okay, buddy. Arms up.” She wrestled Jack out of his sweater, and then wrangled the rest of his clothes off his small body, before dressing him in his superhero pajamas. Trent had jammed several changes of clothes into the bottom of the backpack, along with his toothbrush, pajamas, and Chippy. “Have a drink of water and then brush your teeth. Then we can get you into bed.”

  “Do I have to brush my teeth?” Jack’s eyes closed sleepily as he sat back down on the sofa.

  “Yes. I promised your daddy I’d take care of you. If you get cavities, I won’t have done my job.”

  “Okay.” He yawned, and his head dropped onto his chin. A once unfamiliar instinct to mother him swept over her. Kids had never been her thing. Monica had given her life to the Army. When she hit forty and still hadn’t found her mate, she’d accepted she would never be a mother. Now, five years later, she was unprepared for the overwhelming surge of love and intense need to protect Jack.

  “Here.” Wyatt’s hand closed around hers as she tried to pump the water into the sink. “It’s temperamental.” He meant the pump, but his words accurately described Monica, too. Although she learned to hide it well. The Army was a tough place for a female, and to fit in she’d learned to bury any emotions that might lead to her standing out against her male counterparts.

  “Thanks.” She leaned back against him, just enough to feel the pressure of his chest against her back, and it comforted her. Monica looked down at the water spilling into the tin cup in Wyatt’s hand. What was happening to her? Sh
e’d never needed comfort. She was a strong, independent woman. Did having a mate make you weak?

  “Here.” He handed her the cup of water and she took it, breaking away from him.

  Monica went through the motions, getting Jack to drink the water, then brush his teeth and finally visit the bathroom, which was the only room separated from the rest of the house by a door.

  Thank goodness for small mercies, her bear said.

  With Jack ready, she retrieved Chippy from the sofa, and put boy and toy to bed. Monica tucked the blankets around him and kissed his forehead, just as he’d asked her to do the first night she had been given sole responsibility for his health and welfare. Then she sat by his side and waited for him to fall asleep. Watching the rise and fall of his small body as his breathing slowed. Waiting to ensure no nightmares came to him.

  In that time, she gathered her thoughts, collated them and figured out what she was going to tell Wyatt, and what she was going to leave out.

  He’s our mate, we should tell him everything, her bear said firmly.

  I’m not ready to trust him, Monica replied.

  You have trust issues, her bear huffed. He’s the one we’re going to spend the rest of our lives with. We have to trust him, even if he is a wolf, she finished, which made Monica smile.

  “Care to share?” Wyatt asked from across the room.

  “My bear was commenting on your wolf.” Monica took one last look at Jack and joined Wyatt in front of the fire. She sat down on the bare wooden boards and held her hands out to the glowing embers.

  Romantic, her bear observed.

  “I made you coffee.” He passed her a tin cup, reminding her of when she was deployed overseas. Sitting in mess halls in the heat of the desert with her fellow soldiers, some who would never make it home.

  Thoughtful, her bear whispered, before Monica shut her out.

  “Thanks.” She took the cup from him and sniffed it. “Smells good.”

  “It is good.” He sipped his own coffee and sat down on the sofa, staring into the fire. “Trent was my friend.” He frowned and corrected himself. “Is my friend.” Then he swung his head around to look at Monica. “Unless he’s dead?”