Chapter Eight – Jay
She was here. Even before she stepped through the door, Jay sensed her presence, a soft pull on his consciousness that whispered Alison .
Yet he kept his composure, not wanting to let his family see just how powerfully she affected him. They didn’t need to know that Alison was his mate. Not yet.
Why? his bear howled.
Because now isn’t the time, Jay insisted.
He didn’t need more pressure. He already felt the weight of unspoken expectations pressing on his shoulders: Remember who you are. Remember your past.
He’d seen it in his father’s eyes as he had driven Jay home from the hospital. It had been there in every sideways glance. The fleeting hope that Jay might suddenly recall his old life. The absolute worst moment came when they halted before the aged, wooden sign marking their arrival at the Thornberg Ranch.
Waylan had cast Jay a hopeful look as he muttered the word, “Home.” His voice was thick with emotion, as if that single word might unlock all of Jay’s lost memories. But it hadn’t. The hope in Waylan’s eyes had dimmed just a fraction.
When the same scene played out at the ranch house, with Mary bursting into tears the moment Jay crossed the threshold, that hope had dimmed a little more.
So had Jay’s. He’d stood stiffly in her embrace, uncertain what to do with his arms, with his entire body. She was his mother, but he felt nothing…except her pain, which struck him with more force than he understood.
“Jay, honey, it’s so good to have you home.” Mary had pulled back, her eyes scanning his face for any flicker of recognition.
“It’s good to be back,” he’d said in reply. Not because that was how he felt but because he knew that was what she needed to hear. But was that cruel? He didn’t want to lead her on.
Maybe this was a mistake, Jay had told his bear.
No, his bear countered. This is where we need to be.
Jay hadn’t agreed with his bear. As he and his mom and dad navigated the awkwardness of the situation, he’d wanted nothing more than to run back to the hospital and climb into bed, pulling the covers over his head.
At least there, no one expected him to be someone he couldn’t recall.
You’re not a kid anymore, his bear reminded him. Adults don’t hide under the sheets.
I don’t know what I am, Jay replied.
But then Alison arrived with her daughter, Tessa. And there was nowhere else he’d rather be.
Because when he sensed her approaching, he did know who he was. Her mate .
And by the look on his mom’s face as she entered the kitchen, she knew, too.
How? he asked his bear. I was so careful to hide it. He was certain he had given nothing away back at the hospital.
But maybe Alison wasn’t, his bear replied.
You mean because she also knows that we are mates? Jay hadn’t considered this.
She might sense a connection between us, his bear said. And Mom might have picked up on our body language. Since all of her sons have now found their mates, Mom must know the signs.
Possibly. Jay’s gaze drifted to Alison the moment she entered the kitchen. But her eyes skittered around the room, refusing to land on him for too long.
She was avoiding his eyes. His bear was right. She did know.
“Ah, so this must be Tessa,” Waylan said, stepping forward with a wide, welcoming grin. He kneeled at the little girl’s level, his weathered face lighting up. “We’re so glad you and your mom are here.”
He’s not the only one, Jay’s bear grumbled with satisfaction.
Tessa gripped Alison’s hand as she flicked her gaze to Alison before offering Waylan a shy smile. “I can’t wait to meet the animals.”
“Well, we’re going to have some lemonade and cookies first, and then we can go see them,” Waylan announced, turning his attention briefly to Alison. “Long shift?”
Alison nodded, exhaustion in her eyes. “Yes, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Jay’s chest tightened. He had to lock down the urge to walk over and wrap his arms around her. It took everything he had to stay put, to not pull her close and breathe in the comforting scent that he knew belonged only to her.
But he resisted, reminding himself that it wasn’t the right time.
Mary broke the tension by stepping forward and taking command. “Come, sit down. I’ll pour you some lemonade. Or would you prefer coffee, Alison?”
Alison hesitated, smoothing her hair self-consciously. “I’d love a coffee.”
“I’ll get it,” Jay snapped.
His family turned to look at him as if they’d forgotten he was there. A pang of hurt flared in his chest, but he pushed it aside. They weren’t used to him yet. Just as he wasn’t used to them. It would take time for any of this to feel normal.
They’re not used to you being back, his bear reminded him gently.
I guess you’re right, Jay muttered, stepping toward the coffeepot. He pulled a mug from the rack, his movements surprisingly fluid. Almost like I’ve done this a thousand times before, he thought.
You probably have, his bear murmured.
No, Jay replied, a slight tension in his jaw. This is the first time we’ve poured coffee for our mate.
The first of many, his bear said cheerfully.
Jay inhaled the aroma of the steaming coffee, pausing as something deep within him stirred. A flicker of memory too elusive to grab hold of. He exhaled sharply, frustration biting at him.
Don’t force it, his bear advised.
It’s so frustrating, Jay ground out, then turned, cup in hand, and offered it to Alison.
“Thanks,” she mumbled, still not meeting his gaze. But as she took the mug, their fingers brushed, and a jolt of electricity passed between them.
“You are welcome,” he murmured.
Alison blinked, finally lifting her eyes to his. “Just what I need.”
And you are just what we need. His bear purred like a contented cat.
“Good?” Jay asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Perfect.” She cradled the mug in her hands as her cheeks flushed pink, and she shifted her weight in her chair.
“Enjoy.” Jay stuffed his hands in his pockets, suddenly unsure of himself. He stepped back, giving her space, the tension thrumming in his veins.
He turned slightly, and then bristled, curling his fingers around the edge of the counter as he sensed someone else approaching.
His bear growled, low and ominous, as a man walked into the kitchen. A man who had Waylan’s eyes and chin and Mary’s mouth.
He’s our brother, Jay told his bear .
But the primal side of him—his bear—didn’t care about familial bonds in that moment. All it saw was another male.
And a possible threat.
“Hey, you must be Alison. I’m Ezra.” Ezra held out his hand to Alison with a friendly smile. “I’ve heard all about you.”
“You have?” Alison replied, drawing back slightly like she was used to making herself small.
And that twisted something in Jay’s gut, a protective anger flickering through him.
But if Ezra saw it, too, he didn’t react. Instead, he grinned and hunkered down in front of Tessa. “And you must be Tessa. I heard you like animals.”
Tessa pressed into her mother’s side, not fearful exactly, but in that watchful, assessing way that children had. She peeked up at Alison, who nodded encouragingly and then squared her shoulders in a brave show of confidence.
“I do,” Tessa said, but despite her show of confidence, her voice was smaller than before.
Ezra chuckled. “You’ve come to the right place.”
“You sure have,” Waylan agreed as he leaned back in his chair. “We’ll take you both out there after we eat. Start with the horses, then the cattle, and maybe some of the bigger animals if you like.”
Alison’s grip on her coffee mug visibly tightened. “Maybe we can start with the smaller animals,” she suggested with a polite smile. “I don’t want Tessa feeling overwhelmed.”
Ezra just laughed. “Oh, she’ll be fine. Kids usually love the big animals. Don’t worry.”
The words weren’t cruel, weren’t dismissive, at least not intentionally. But Alison pulled back as if she’d been brushed aside. Her fingers curled tighter around the mug and her shoulders dropped just slightly. It wasn’t dramatic, wasn’t even something most people would notice.
But Jay noticed.
Something inside him twisted and his bear gave a low, threatening growl.
Alison had only been offering a suggestion, looking out for her daughter. And the second she was brushed off, she had shrunk back, nodding along as if she’d spoken out of turn.
Like she was used to her words being ignored. Used to her suggestions being dismissed.
Jay swallowed down his irritation, shifting slightly closer to her, resisting the urge to reach out to her. He wanted to tell her that her instincts were right, that her opinion mattered.
But who was he to step up and fight Alison’s battles?
Her mate, his bear said.
But what if she doesn’t want us to? Or need us to? Jay asked.
Tessa’s eyes flicked between her mother and Ezra as if she sensed something was off. She turned, her small hand slipping into Alison’s, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Mom?”
Jay’s breath hitched.
Tessa knew.
She knew her mother needed her, without words, without being told.
Jay’s gut twisted as Alison forced a smile for her daughter, brushing a strand of hair behind Tessa’s ear. “I’m fine, sweetheart.”
But Jay knew better.
His hands clenched into fists.
Not because Alison was weak—no, she was anything but weak—but because someone had made her feel small. Someone had made her question her own worth.
Jay wanted to tear them apart.
Calm down, his bear urged, sensing the storm in him. This isn’t about you. This is about her.
And his bear was right.
This wasn’t about his anger. It was about what Alison needed. And right now, she needed space.
Mary must have sensed the change in Alison as she stepped forward. “Why don’t we go outside?” Her voice was light and casual, but Jay recognized the careful intent behind it.
Alison hesitated.
Jay didn’t.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice steady, unyielding. “Let’s go outside.”
Alison glanced at him then, a flicker of something in her eyes.
Uncertainty.
Relief.
Trust.
And that, more than anything, meant everything.
Jay stepped toward the door, falling into step beside her.
If Alison needed space, he’d give it to her.
But if she needed protection?
He’d give her that, too.