Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Bearpaw Springs National Park
The next day, Gabriel paced his living room floor in his Cougar Creek Ranch cabin, phone clutched in his hand as he checked his text messages and email yet again. Nothing.
By mid-afternoon, the knot of worry in his stomach had twisted itself into something closer to dread. Kymberlie hadn’t responded to any of his messages.
She’d made it clear she needed space yesterday after losing the wedding reception she’d pinned her hopes on. But the thought of her suffering alone was more than he could bear.
He tossed the phone onto his couch and ran a hand through his hair.
As a firefighter, he was trained to handle emergencies—to rush toward the danger while others ran away.
But this was different. This helplessness in the face of Kymberlie’s pain left him feeling useless, and his sabertooth cat paced restlessly beneath his skin.
She needs space, he told himself for the hundredth time. But his every instinct screamed at him to go to her, to protect her, to fix what was broken.
Gabriel grabbed his keys from the hook by the door. He couldn’t fix what had happened, but he could at least make sure she wasn’t going through this alone. He’d already figured out she was too proud to accept pity.
So, I’ll just have to give her an excuse to let me in…
Twenty-five minutes later, he reached downtown Bearpaw Ridge, parked, and walked into Cinnamon + Sugar. The old-fashioned bell attached to the door jingled overhead, announcing his arrival. The welcoming scents of fresh pastries and brewing espresso enveloped him.
The bakery was moderately busy for a weekday afternoon.
A couple of tables were occupied by locals nursing coffee and reading, while three customers lined up at the counter.
Gabriel took his place at the end of the queue.
While he waited, he scanned the glass-fronted display cases for Kymberlie’s favorite—the chocolate croissant that she’d described as “almost better than sex.”
“Hi, Gabriel,” Violet Tringstad, Kymberlie’s younger sister, greeted him from behind the counter. Her blue hair was tucked up under a Cinnamon + Sugar baseball cap, and she wore a neat brown apron embroidered with the bakery’s pink teddy bear logo in pink thread. “Your usual?”
“Not today,” Gabriel replied. “I’d like a chocolate croissant and a large gingerbread latte with extra whipped cream to go.”
Violet’s expression shifted as she recognized the order. Understanding dawned in her eyes. “For Kymber?”
“Yup. Have you talked to her today?” he asked.
“No,” Violet admitted, looking worried as she reached for a tall to-go cup. “She’s been ignoring everyone’s texts and calls. Mom and Dad are freaking out, but you know Kymber—she hates looking weak in front of anyone.”
Gabriel nodded. He wondered if Kymberlie would continue to let her pride isolate her from the people who loved and supported her.
As Violet prepared the latte, Gabriel noticed hushed voices coming from the door behind the counter that led to the bakery. He recognized Maggie Swanson’s voice immediately.
“…don’t know what she’s going to do, Mom. Her insurance policy didn’t even cover half the repairs, and now the Hartmann-Koenig cancellation is going to kill what’s left of her business.”
Gabriel froze, his enhanced hearing picking up every word despite the loud hiss of the espresso machine and background chatter of the café’s other customers.
“That poor girl,” came Annabeth Swanson’s softer voice. “All that hard work, and now this. Does she have any savings to fall back on?”
“Not anymore,” Maggie replied, her voice tight with concern. “She put everything she had into fixing up the club, and now this happens? It’s just not fair. Everyone remembers what a dump that place used to be. She’s worked her ass off to make it a place you want to go to.”
Gabriel’s stomach clenched.
“The worst part is that The Hair of the Dog was just starting to turn a real profit,” Maggie continued. “She told me a few weeks ago that without that wedding reception, there was no way she can afford to reopen. Her place is probably going to close for good.”
The words hit Gabriel like a physical blow.
“We can’t let that happen,” Annabeth said firmly. “She’s worked too hard to lose everything because of that fire.”
Gabriel’s inner cat growled. He barely kept the sound from escaping his human throat. He knew intimately the special hell of the whispers, the pity, the slow erasure of everything you’d built.
I can’t let that happen to my mate.
The realization slammed into him with such certainty that it momentarily took his breath away.
His cat had recognized it from their first meeting, but now his human side caught up with crystal clarity: Kymberlie Tringstad was the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, and every fiber of his being rebelled against the thought of just standing by while she was in trouble.
Especially when he had, however indirectly, contributed to her current difficulties.
Guilt coiled in his gut like a living thing. He’d only been doing his job, protecting people the only way he knew how. But in trying to prevent one tragedy, he’d helped set the stage for another.
Gabriel slipped behind the counter. “Gotta talk to Maggie about something,” he told Violet.
The conversation inside the bakery kitchen abruptly ceased.
“Come in,” called Maggie.
Gabriel walked through the swinging door, revealing a large, high-ceilinged room crammed with appliances.
Maggie and her mother stood around a large stainless steel worktable.
Maggie’s hands were buried in a mound of raisin-studded dough, while Annabeth, her silver-frosted red hair tucked up under a turquoise blue chef’s cap, was decorating a tray of cupcakes with a piping bag filled with snowy white frosting. Both women looked surprised to see him.
“Hey, Gabriel,” Maggie said, straightening. “Something wrong?”
Gabriel didn’t miss the nervous glance she shot at the large commercial ovens standing against the far wall.
“I apologize for interrupting,” Gabriel said, the formality he relied on in uncomfortable social situations taking over. “But I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation about Kymberlie and The Hair of the Dog.”
Annabeth and Maggie exchanged looks. “Shifter hearing strikes again,” Annabeth said wryly.
“You have any ideas about how we can help her?” Maggie said, deftly cutting the dough into four equal parts.
Gabriel nodded. “I do. But I’m going to need your help.”
∞∞∞
A knock on her front door startled Kymberlie.
She’d been curled on her couch in the same position for hours, staring blankly at the television without registering a single image.
Her phone lay face-down on the coffee table, still turned off.
She couldn’t bear to turn it back on and face the dozens of voicemail messages and texts that would inevitably be waiting.
She couldn’t deal with people feeling sorry for her.
She hadn’t showered this morning. Hadn’t eaten anything beyond choking down a piece of toast with her coffee. Had barely moved since then except to use the bathroom and refill her mug of tea.
“Kymberlie!” It was Gabriel. Oh, great. “I know you’re in there!”
His knocks turned to insistent pounding.
Should I tell him to go away?
But now that he was here, she didn’t really want him to leave. Besides, I owe him a big apology. Again.
She rolled off the couch and rose to her feet.
She glimpsed herself in the hallway mirror—tangled hair falling to her shoulders, dark circles shadowing her eyes, her face pale and blotchy without her usual makeup. And she was still wearing her flannel pajamas.
She looked exactly like she felt. Utterly defeated.
The knocking continued.
“Coming,” she called, her voice raspy from disuse.
When she pulled open the door, she saw Gabriel on her porch, holding a Cinnamon + Sugar bag in one hand and a cardboard drink carrier in the other. He was clean-shaven and looked disgustingly healthy and alert.
“Hi,” he said simply. “Everyone’s worried about you… especially me.”
Guilt crashed over her like a wave.
The last time she’d seen him, she’d practically bitten his head off, pushing away his comfort and concern with harsh words she couldn’t even remember clearly now. She’d been awful to him, and here he was, bearing gifts.
“Gabriel, I’m so sorry—”
Before she could finish, he stepped forward, balancing the coffee carrier in one hand as he pulled her against his chest and kissed her forehead, her temple, the corner of her mouth where she was stammering out her apology.
“Don’t,” he whispered against her skin. “It’s okay. I understand.”
For a moment, she just let herself be held, breathing in his clean scent and the tinge of feline musk that was uniquely Gabriel. His solid warmth felt like the only real thing in the world right now.
“I brought an offering,” he said finally, pulling back just enough to hold up the cup and the bag. “Large gingerbread latte with extra whipped cream and a chocolate croissant from Cinnamon + Sugar.”
Warmth rushed through her, and her eyes prickled with sudden tears. “You remembered.”
“I remember everything about you,” he replied, with such earnest intensity that her wolf wriggled and wagged its tail in delight.
She stepped back to let him in, suddenly self-conscious about her unkempt appearance.
“I wasn’t exactly expecting company,” she said, tucking her messy hair behind her ears. She tugged at her pajama top. “Let me just go change into real clothes.”
“Kymberlie.” Gabriel set the coffee and pastry on the kitchen counter, then gently took her hands. “Stop. You don’t have to dress up for me. I’m not here to judge you.”
She met his gaze and found only understanding. Something inside her cracked open.