Page 11 of A Very Beary Christmas
Chapter 6
Sam
After a hearty breakfast, I said goodbye to my new friend and headed south toward Two Forks. Inside, my bear was clawing at me, anxious to be freed, but I had to wait until I was well away from human eyes before I allowed that. In the aftermath of the storm, there weren’t many people out and about, but it only took one with a cell phone to make trouble. The fewer humans who knew about shifters, the better.
I let my bear loose a couple miles from the motel. The closer I got to civilization, the more our anticipation grew. He was so intent on getting to Two Forks that we almost stumbled right out onto the road where a two-man crew was using a cherry picker to work on some downed power lines. No doubt they had seen bears before, but probably not many carrying around a decent-sized rucksack from L.L. Bean.
I adjusted my path and detoured around them, continuing south. When I reached the outskirts of the small town at the base of the mountain, I wrangled my animal back and changed into my human form once again. He was too excited to retreat completely, though. Thankfully, the sun was bright enough to justify the wraparound shades that would hide the unusual shade of gold my eyes turned when my bear was so close to the surface.
Two Forks was tiny, even for a small mountain town. It was easy to see where it got its name. One main road ran through the center of town, branching off at either end. Ancient-looking, gloomy buildings rose up on either side, none of them above two stories. Two Forks, like several other towns in the area, had probably begun as a mining town back in the day and had somehow managed to endure.
The diner Kayden had visited was easy enough to find. It was the only one like it and sat off on the right, standing out with its big windows and retro chrome accents.
Delicious smells wafted through the air, enticing my bear and rousing our insatiable appetite once again.
“Afternoon.” An older man looked up from the book he was reading as I entered, the tinkling of bells above the doorway heralding my arrival. He was on the smaller side, wiry, with graying, reddish hair.
“Afternoon.” I took a seat at the counter and gladly accepted the coffee he poured for me. As much as I wanted to ask about Chloe right away, I knew starting off with a bunch of questions was going to have the guy clamming up pretty fast. Small town folk were friendly enough, but protective of their own. That was something I understood, because me and mine were the same way.
“The special’s a chili burger. Comes with fries and slaw.”
“Sounds good.”
I sensed his curiosity, but he was playing a game, just like I was, biding his time until he could make a sale. In the meantime, I occupied myself by taking stock of my surroundings.
It was a clean, nice place. A couple guys sat in one of the booths, eyeing me. I pegged them for locals and nodded once in polite greeting, then moved on until I found what I was looking for.
There it was, between the windows. The painting of my bear, his golden eyes staring back at me. It looked even better than it had in Kayden’s picture.
“Hell of a storm we had,” the older man commented, sliding a large, white plate in front of me and drawing my attention back to him. The aroma of seasoned ground beef hit my nose. If it tasted half as good as it smelled, I was going to enjoy it.
“Yeah, it was.”
“I guess the roads are open now.”
“Some,” I confirmed vaguely. “Passed some power company crews on the way in.” It was inane banter, a necessary part of the progression.
I bit into the burger, whichwaseven better than it smelled, and told him so. He seemed pleased.
“That’s a nice picture you got there,” I told him.
“Yeah.” He beamed with pride.
“Local artist?”
“Yeah, that’s our Chloe.”
Bingo. “Small world. I had a friend named Chloe once, back when we were kids. She liked drawing bears, too.”
“That so?”
Outwardly, his expression remained friendly, but I sensed a slight change in the air around us. He not only knew the artist, but he was protective of her. My bear rumbled, feeling kind of protective, too. I covered it up by clearing my throat and sipping my coffee.
He narrowed his eyes. I could have sworn I saw a flash of gold, but it was gone quickly. I drew in a discreet breath, and that was when I detected it—a subtle hint of fox.
If he was a fox shifter, then no doubt he had already figured out what I was. Foxes were known for being clever and having an excellent sense of smell. As a shifter, he would also have an inkling of what would have brought a bear down out of the mountains to inquire about a specific female.
I nodded and chewed, then wiped my mouth. “Tiny thing, more hair than girl. Big brown eyes. Quiet.”
