Page 22 of Renaissance Bear

"Yes," Jon said automatically, then, thinking about it, added, "but this one's not on the house, Pete."

The fiddler looked injured. Laurie, behind the counter, hissed, "Dude!"

"Believe it or not, we are trying to run a business here, and you get drinks during the sessionsandafter hours free," Jon said. "You can afford to pay for one drink."

"Sure and a single drink will never quench me thirst," Peter said in a passable Irish accent completely unlike his own Californian one.

Jon snorted. "Then buy two. Who told you the fairgrounds were being sold? Laurie, have you heard anything about this?"

His brother made a face. "A couple of the patrons mentioned it about an hour ago, but I told them it would never happen, that it was just a dumb rumor. There isn't anything to it, is there?"

"There can't be," Jon said a bit stupidly. "Why would somebody even want the fairgrounds? What would they do with them?"

"Parking for the ski lodges up the mountain?" Laurie asked dubiously. "You know our traffic laws get their panties in a bunch."

The three of them, all Renaissance natives, grinned a bit at each other. Renaissance had been settled over a century ago by shifters, and their back-to-nature wilderness vibe had brought a huge influx of hippies into the town in the sixties and seventies. One of the many things the two communities could agree on was prioritizing people over vehicles. When ski resorts had started to move in shortly after the hippies arrived, the town council had provided a united front against paving Renaissance with parking lots for the resorts' convenience. Decades later it was still a point of contention.

"Yeah, but…" Jon ended up shaking his head. "Tons of people stay at the lodges during the faire, so they get all kinds of summer business that they wouldn't if this was a parking lot. That doesn't mean it can't be them, but…was somebody else interested in taking it over? Running the faire, I mean?"

Laurie made a face. "Then they'd run for the committee. I guess probably most places don't have an elected town committee for their faires, but most places aren't Renaissance."

"Believe me, it was the only way to make it work," Peter muttered. He'd been on the committee for at least twenty years. Jon was pretty sure he'd actually helped set it up. In fact, he launched into a lecture that Jon and Laurie both already knew pretty well, having heard it from their parents many times. "We couldn't rely just on volunteers and handing it over to a new batch of fair-runners every year, and there are so many businesses in Renaissance that rely on the faire?—"

"—that incorporating it as a town-run function was the only thing that made sense," the two younger Torben brothers chorused along with him.

Peter's jaw snapped shut and he eyed both of them. Laurie, grinning, brought him the pale ale he'd asked for, and, despite Jon's admonishment, said, "On the house. But wouldn't the committee be the first people to hear about if somebody was trying to buy the fairgrounds?"

"Yes, which is why I don't like it!" Peter drank the beer like he was proving a point, and sat down hard on one of the picnic benches. "It's probably just a rumor," he said grumpily.

"What if I'd heard it from a reliable source?" Alis's voice floated softly over the little gathering. Jon's heart leaped and he turned toward her, hoping that his bear would once more see her as their mate.

It did, with a satisfied grunt of sound that sent a wave of relief through Jon. But then he realized what she'd said, and waved her in. "What are you talking about?"

She had abandoned her courtly wear and looked like a commoner, dressed in jeans shorts and a v-neck green t-shirt that dropped far enough down to be distracting. Jon told himself firmly that her eyes wereup there, and kept his gaze above her collarbones.

Which was less helpful than it might have been, honestly. For one, she had great collarbones that made pleasing lines toemphasize her wide shoulders, and for another, her hair was down and all full of thick bouncing curls that begged to have his fingers sunk into them. And if he looked higher, then he had that lovely full mouth and those magnificent bladed features to gaze at, and those deep green eyes to fall into.

Yeah, there was nowhere safe to rest his gaze, and that was the most wonderful thing he'd ever had to deal with. To his delight, she came straight over to his side and slid her arm around his waist like it was natural and comfortable. His bear gave a huge, contented sigh as Alis tilted her chin up so she could see him as she spoke. "Do you know Eloise and Stuart Presington?"

Jon said, "Yeah, of course," and his idiot brother said, "They've been coming to the faire for hundreds of years," which made Peter give him a dirty look.

"Theyhavebeen coming since it began, but I never could get them to join the committee. Still, they know everything there is to know about it." The older man's face tightened. "Ah, hell. Are they the source of this rumor?"

"I couldn't say," Alis said primly, "but yeah. Eloise mentioned all casually that some contact Stuart still has at the bank—?" She made it a question that the men around her nodded in response to.

"Stuart was the bank manager for decades until he retired, what, five years ago now? And Eloise taught elementary school. Honestly, I think those two know every single secret Renaissance has ever had," Jon said. "But the reason they know them is they don't evertellanybody."

Alis sighed. "I got the impression it was an outside offer, so maybe their secret-keeping only extends to locals. But also, she's not the one who told you guys, either, is she. She was obviously, like really obviously, making sure that if the leak circled back toanybody it would be me, another outsider. But the paperwork got filed late Friday afternoon."

"A fact which you, an outsider, would know how?" Peter asked.

Jon's bear grumbled, but he quashed it.He's not challenging her,he promised the beast within.He's just trying to make sure there's some kind of story that would keep the Presingtons out of it, which…

He needn't have worried. Alis, blandly, said, "My sister isreallygood with computers," which made Peter first blink, then chuckle.

"Got a white hat in the family?"

"Honestly, I don't think she's ever hacked a thing in her life, but if you need some kind of excuse for me to know about the sale, that's vague enough to be an answer."

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