Chapter 3
check-in
RAVIK
“By Ursa, Ravik.” Zion, who Niska and I used to call Professor behind his back, pulled out a chair on the other side of the counter where I’d set breakfast, scanning the spread with an arched eyebrow.
“You're aware my having to put in another few months at that infernal school isn’t an occasion to celebrate, correct? You didn’t have to do all of this. ”
Thing was, I did. It was tradition. One of the last ones we had left now that we were empty nesters and widowers on top. I’d be damned if I let another ritual die on my watch.
I’d been awake since before dawn, preparing a meal for Zion’s first day back at school. Eggs, bacon, fried potatoes, fresh bannock. More food than two males could eat—even if they were bears. But we had a fridge, and my hands had needed something to do.
Instead of answering, I poured hot water over one of the coffee pouches he preferred to the real stuff.
“Thank you, Ravik.” Zion placed a hand over his chest, as if he were a knight who’d been given some sort of blessing. “As always, your efforts are sincerely appreciated.”
With that typical-for-him over-the-top gratitude, he picked up his fork and made quick work of two plates of food.
Long and trim, he looked nothing like a born bear, as we Ayaska called the bears who were born into shifter-hood instead of bitten, like Zion.
He’d only put on a few pounds over the thirty-five years since our maul had unexpectedly come together.
Most folks around here wouldn’t be able to guess how much food he managed to put away underneath those impeccable table manners.
But, as happy as he was about the meal, the complaining started up as soon as he set down the cloth napkin he still insisted we use instead of paper towels.
“I cannot believe I’m being compelled back to work. I was certain I’d wake up from hibernation to news that Rysak finally found my replacement. Instead, we have yet another daughter-in-law with no interest in acquiring a teaching credential.”
Most people in Bear Mountain—especially Ash, the second in our youngest son’s maul and the town doctor—had been ecstatic to come out of hibernation to the news about Holly, Noelle’s older sister.
While we slept, she had not only become the mate of our oldest son, Takoda, and Ash’s brother, Hawk, but she would also be staying on as a much-needed midwife.
But after congratulating Takoda, Zion had immediately started grumbling about getting a midwife instead of a new teacher for the town, even though he’d been promised it was at the top of our mayor’s—who was also our MLA—priority list.
“What did the mayor even do all hibernation?” Zion shook his head as he rose from the chair on the other side of the counter. “I’ll aver it again, the electorate of Bear Mountain should have voted for you.”
I ducked my head and took another bite of fried potatoes. Wasn’t so sure about that.
Running against Rysak for Mayor had been more about figuring out what to do with myself after Takoda took over my old position as Bear Mountain’s RCMP sergeant.
The mayor position would have filled my days and kept me plenty busy. But there was a reason Rysak—the younger but much more sociable Ayaska—had won by a landslide, despite having obviously hastily constructed a maul of his own to show folks he was just like them: a traditionally minded Ayaska.
Campaigning had not been my cup of tea—or even my coffee pouch. And holding office would have been more of the same, while having to deal with the human government to boot. Wasn’t sure I had that many words in me, but I appreciated Zion’s support.
Though, I suspected him wanting me to find an official job had more to do with him being worried about what I’d do after he retired. We hadn’t discussed it, mentally or out loud.
But Zion hadn’t come here of his own accord, and Niska had pretty much railroaded him into taking over the position of our small town’s sole schoolhouse teacher from her mother.
Add in the long estrangement with our maul daughter and his birth daughter, Mara, who refused to return home, even after her mother’s death.
I was fairly sure when his job was done, he’d be done with Bear Mountain.
“I must away. The children will be beating at the schoolhouse door after three months off.” Zion drained the rest of his coffee before placing it in the sink and grabbing his bag from the hook by the door. “I’ll see you at lunch.”
Then he was gone.
I cleared his plate and mine. Washed them. Dried them. Put them away.
The much smaller cave where my four parents had lived and died somehow felt even quieter than the large one we’d left behind, after our son Makari took over as the Tuk’Mara.
It probably had something to do with the lack of voices in my head.
Before Niska died, Zion would have spoken telepathically with me all through breakfast, so we didn’t wake up our mate who preferred to sleep in.
He’d barely be out the door before our wife’s voice appeared in my head: “Has he gone yet? How did he seem?”
Niska was a late riser and never made it out to the kitchen to see him off, but due to what her bear did without her knowledge to bring him into our maul, she fretted over him constantly. All the way to the end.
Zion didn’t bother with the maul bite link these days, probably putting some distance between us before he broke the inevitable news about leaving.
Our cave was quiet. Too quiet.
But then footsteps sounded at the cave entrance, and the scent of hazelnuts hit my nose, letting me know that my birth son was coming down the den stairs even before I looked up from getting the cellophane to wrap all the leftovers.
As usual, he wore the formal RCMP uniform, red serge jacket and brown felt hat, like on the posters.
I had done the same thing, as had my birth father, and his birth father before him.
It had been a long-standing tradition in our family to do so, even after the humans decided to switch to common uniforms. And like me, Takoda was a male who respected tradition.
At least he had been. I was still trying to wrap my head around him not only bonding the sister of his younger brother’s mate while the rest of Bear Mountain slept, but also mauling up with his constable and the brother of his former best friend, an ex-con who’d just gotten out of jail.
But this morning, he looked rather taciturn.
He removed his hat with a respectful nod.“Father.”
“Son.” I straightened to my old RCMP posture and gestured to the counter of food. “You hungry? I prepared the usual big meal for Zion’s first day of school. There’s plenty left over.”
“No, thank you. Already ate.”
Should’ve guessed that. The other thing people were talking about was how good a cook Hawk, his new ex-con maul mate, had turned out to be.
“Got a minute?” he asked, taking another step toward the counter.
Too many minutes.
But aloud I said, “What’s on your mind?”
He set his hat on the counter. “Remember before Mom died? You guys were talking about the two of you getting a passport and maybe visiting Jamaica with Zion?”
I nodded, even though I was a little confused about why he’d be bringing up that time right before her death.
He hadn’t talked about Niska in years, not since she blindsided him by naming his younger, half-Outsider brother Tuk’Mara on her deathbed—not Takoda, the full Ayaska older son who’d spent his life expecting to become the next leader of our people.
“Did you ever get that passport?”
“No. Your mother passed before we could get the paperwork together.”
“Yeah, I figured.” A consternated look passed over his face.
And I patiently waited for him to tell me what this line of questioning was all about.
“Holly’s got this issue with her mother—name’s Bell.
Right before the holidays, she got back together with Holly’s toxic stepfather.
” Takoda wiped a hand over his face like he was already tired, even though the day had just begun.
“Guy’s a real piece of work. Hit Bell for years, and Holly went out of her way to help her get him sent to jail.
But as soon as he got out last Christmas, Bell went right back to him. ”
Wasn’t the first time I’d heard about someone refusing to leave a toxic relationship. As an RCMP or as a maul husband.
I picked up the dish towel. Folded it. Refolded it. Thought about Niska trying to hold on to Erik, even when his presence threatened to drive Zion away for good. How she’d defended him. Made excuses.
Some bonds were hard to break, even when they should be.
“Anyway, she’s not returning any of Holly’s or Noelle’s texts or emails about getting married this summer,” Takoda continued. “And now Holly’s talking about going to Minnesota herself. To check on her.”
I stopped folding. “But she’s pregnant.”
I remembered when Niska was pregnant. She’d nearly had to lay down spikes to keep me from trailing around after her.
Male bears hated to have their pregnant mates out of their sights.
And there was no scenario in which a maul husband would allow his wife to leave the bubble of his protection here in Bear Mountain.
Much less, travel all the way to Minnesota.
“Exactly.” Takoda’s jaw tightened. “We can’t let her leave, but none of us can go and leave her here. I was thinking maybe if we sent someone to check on Bell, assure Holly that her mother is just being stubborn, like ours was with Mara.”
His expression soured at the mention of his womb twin, who’d refused to so much as step foot in Bear Mountain since Niska exiled her thirteen years ago. Not even for her mother’s funeral.
“I don’t think Holly gets how obstinate mothers can be when it comes to their daughters. And Holly texted her some real rough stuff after finding out she was back together with her stepfather.”
I nodded in full agreement.
“I was hoping you could go. But without a passport...” Takoda shook his head. “Even if you applied today, it’d take weeks.”
I set down the dish towel. Problem identified. Solution blocked.
But maybe there was another angle.
“Have you considered reaching out to your Uncle Walker?”
“Uncle Walker?” Takoda raised an eyebrow in a way that made him look like Zion, even though they weren’t technically related by blood. “The same uncle who made you go get our third dad’s remains alone? Then just said ‘okay’ when Mak called about Mom’s death?”
Takoda knew but maybe didn’t fully understand the whole story behind their uncle’s refusal to have anything to do with his brother, or come back for Niska’s funeral. Still, I insisted, “He had his reasons.”
Takoda’s expression said he didn’t agree. I continued on anyway. “Last I heard, your uncle’s working out of Montana. Wouldn’t need a passport to check in on your mate’s mother.”
A long pause. I could tell Takoda was actually considering the possibility of calling his cantankerous polar bear uncle—right before he dismissed it with a shake of his head. “No. I’m not that desperate.”
He picked up his hat. “Like we said, Holly’s mom is probably just being stubborn. She’ll call any day now. We’ll play it by ear.”
I said nothing. But something about this didn’t sit right.
A mother who wouldn’t respond to either of her pregnant daughters because she went back to her ex?
Niska would have used any excuse to break the silence between her and Mara if our maul daughter had reached out, and she died without ever getting the chance.
My old RCMP instincts fired up. Takoda was wrong. I could feel it in my gut.
Still, I wasn’t one to argue when someone had made up their mind. Probably part of the reason Walker was still so pissed about how things went down when I just went along with Niska picking his brother Erik over him.
“Thanks anyway, Dad.” Takoda rapped a fist on the counter before walking out.
And leaving me alone to finish putting away the food I knew would be too much to eat when I was making it. Especially now that my maul was down to two.
My muscles tensed after I was done, looking for something else—anything—to do.
I glanced toward the woodpile. I’d chopped so much wood since waking up from hibernation, there was plenty to keep our old furnace going through spring—possibly all the way through fall, too. But there were probably a few elderly mauls that could use some extra logs. Had to be.
I went outside, picked up my axe, and did what I’d done every morning since Niska died.
Made myself useful.