Page 32 of Coveted By the Bear

“Is your dog dead?” I asked, squinting to see if it was breathing.

“He always sleeps like that,” Caleb said as he pulled the truck to a stop by a huge oak tree.

I hopped out before he could make it around to open my door. At the moment, I didn’t want him doing something nice for me. I was still angry about our awkward encounter and uncomfortably silent car ride.

“Come on,” he clipped out as he headed for the house.

I steadied my breath and pressed the wrinkles out of my dress with my shaking hands. I pulled a modest cotton cardigan I brought with me over my shoulders. It would be multi-functional in keeping me warm and hiding my scars. Movement caught my eye. An old wooden swing swayed gently in the cool breeze. It made me smile to imagine a much younger Sadey and Caleb pushing each other on it.

“You want to take her for a spin?” Caleb asked from right beside me.

He’d startled me, and from the amused look on his face, it was likely what he meant to do. This was his apology, making the effort to ease our discomfort.

“You would make a scary good hunter,” I said of his stealth.

His eyes grew stormy. “Actually, I’ve come to realize I make much better prey.”

His tortured gaze was so familiar. I had seen it reflected in the mirror often enough. The scars that Eli had given him ran much deeper than the visible marks on his skin.

“Push me?” I asked.

He wiped off the seat of the swing with the sleeve of his shirt and leaned against the tree until I situated myself onto it. And then he pushed. We didn’t say anything but it wasn’t uncomfortable silence anymore, and I was thankful that he had moved on from his ambivalence.

The old tree creaked the swing’s rhythm, and I imagined the sound etched into the bones of this place. How many hours had he and his siblings spent swinging here?

As if he could read my thoughts, he said, “My father hung this swing for my mother before any of us were born.”

I slowed and then stopped, hanging onto one of the ropes and twisting to better see his face. He walked around the front, relaxed onto the ropes with his hands, and looked down at me. From this angle, with the sun behind him and the strong lines of his jaw so close, he was utterly consuming.

“What was your mother like?” I asked.

Caleb looked far away, though his eyes stayed on me. “She was smart and funny. I can’t really remember what she looked like anymore if I don’t see her pictures,” he admitted. “In pictures, she looks like Sadey.”

“At least you have pictures of her,” I said, leaning my face against the rope and wishing neither of us had to struggle with such a reality.

“You don’t have pictures of your mom?” he asked seriously.

I shook my head. “When my memory goes, I’ll have nothing left of her.” I wouldn’t tell him that I wished to forget her already. It hurt to think about my brightest memories of Mom. The ones at the end tortured me, and I was better off without them. That was my secret, and after what happened in the truck, Caleb hadn’t earned it.

“You guys coming in or what?” Sadey yelled from the front porch.

Caleb pulled away and the swing groaned its relief at the release of his weight. “Ready?”

“Nope.” I took his offered hand anyway.

He released my hand when I was safely up and walking, but he placed his hand gently onto the small of my back, and the gesture felt more comforting than I would ever admit to him. I would meet Clinton McCreedy, but at least Caleb would be right behind me.

For the first time in my entire life, I felt safe.

Mr. McCreedy met us at the door and graciously allowed us to pass into the sprawling entryway. Vaulted ceilings and a hanging chandelier that towered over us made the place feel cavernous.

It was hard not to look at Caleb’s father. He was an imposing man who seemed to take up much more space than he actually did. He had a presence and a confidence that made me draw up and pay attention to him. He was tall and thin with dark hair, only just going a regal gray. His eyes were the same as his son’s, but that’s where their similarities stopped.

“Dad,” Caleb said low, “this is Mira.”

“Hello, Mira,” Mr. McCreedy said, tilting his head. “You are a bit of a living legend around this town. Your reputation precedes you.”

I smiled nervously and remembered that Sadey said to be honest. “I’ve heard a lot about you, too, but I assume your good reputation is deserved.”