Page 36 of Coveted By the Bear

“No. Not that I’m aware of.”

The woman scrambled up onto a stepladder near a countertop strewn with flour. She squinted at me for a long moment. “I believe you, and besides, I’m more interested in your work ethic.” She poked my arm and then squeezed around the bony bits. “I’ll pay you minimum wage,” she said, taking on a professional tone. “It’s all I can do right now, but you’ll get a meal for lunch everyday on me. Ewey! Try this.”

Opal shuffled to a large refrigerator, more quickly than I would have thought she was able. She pulled out a plate with a sandwich on top and handed it to me. I didn’t know what to do with it.

“Well, don’t just stare at it. Eat it. I’m thinking about putting it on the menu.”

I bit into it. Surely, angels served sandwiches like this one in heaven. It was made on one of Opal’s French rolls and had several different cuts of deli meat, some sort of cheese I couldn’t even guess at, bacon, avocado, and a sauce that I had never come close to tasting before.

Opal watched me chew and lit up. “It’s good then?”

I nodded earnestly. “Can I have the rest?” I asked around a giant bite.

“Of course you can. What do you think about the spread? I made it myself.”

“Ith glor-e-ous,” I said slowly. Hopefully, she understood food talk.

“Grab that.” She pointed to a large menu sign that hung from the ceiling. It was written in colorful chalk, and when I had wrestled it off of its chains, Opal erased some of the writing under Sandwiches and rewrote the new one into it.

“I will need you to come in at five in the morning,” she said. “Is that going to be a problem?”

I shook my head and popped a piece of bacon that had slid out of the sandwich into my mouth.

“Good. I hate early mornings so you’ll be opening up the shop to start baking every day. As soon as you are confident in the kitchen, I won’t be coming in until nine to help out with the breakfast rush. Apron,” she said, pointing to a row of hooks.

I snatched off the largest one and tied it on before heading to the sink to wash my hands.

I turned around to find Opal holding up a bag of flour. “Lesson one.”

Chapter Thirteen

Caleb

I couldn’t shake the awful feeling I had about what I’d said last night. I couldn’t decide if I felt worse about them being a lie, or about Mira having heard them. Of course, she meant more than nothing to me. Every time I changed into the damned grizzly, I crept up to her house like a stalker and watched her work outside just so I could feel connected to something from my old life. She was my most coveted anchor right now. It was in her best interest to stay naive of that, though.

I spent the majority of the day working on her dilapidated roof. The other repairs would be worthless if it kept leaking everywhere and causing more wood rot every time the clouds opened up. I took my shirt off in the heat of the day. It was cool, but between the physical exertion and frustration with myself, I had worked myself into an inferno. I would be able to see her truck coming from my vantage point, so I’d just shimmy down the ladder and cover my scars back up before she arrived.

I checked the road for the billionth time and shook my head. The more I told myself not to look for her, the more I did. And the longer she took in town, the more worried I became. What errand could she have that would take the entire morning and most of the afternoon?

I slid my hammer into the tool belt draped around my waist. The wooden handle made a soft zipping sound as it fell into the leather loop made for it. I scooted over the weather-rotted shingles and cranked the radio I had hauled up here as loud as was comfortable to my oversensitive ears. Water to drown out thoughts of Mira.

A Slipknot song blared. It wasn’t usually the type of music I enjoyed, but it created an unavoidable distraction and an intense beat to work to. I wiped my brow and made an unattainable goal for myself to finish half of the roof before the sinking sun robbed me of essential light for the job. I was good under pressure and liked a challenge.

Hours of racing time did, indeed, keep my thoughts focused. The sun was a half circle that promised to disappear behind the horizon when I finally stood up and stretched my aching back. I watched it sink slowly behind the trees. The moment would have been profound if I hadn’t realized hours ago that I left the pain meds in my jacket pocket in Brian’s truck. The half-healed remnants of my fight for life screamed their existence.

The music cut off mid-song, and I frowned at the old radio in confusion.

“Roof is looking really good, Caleb,” Mira said from behind me.

I turned and crouched to keep my balance. She stood on the ladder so only her face and shoulders were visible. She tossed the extension cord that had powered the radio to the ground below.

“Hand me the radio, and I’ll take it down for you,” she offered.

I looked around in panic. I felt naked without my shirt. Before the bear, I would have never thought twice about taking it off, but these days, my self-consciousness was a dark and unwelcome companion.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing. I just…can you give me a minute?” I crossed my arms over the biggest scar. It wasn’t enough to cover them all, though. Not by a long shot.