Chapter 1
Okay, where in the back arse of bum fuck nowhere was I?
I wound down the deserted country road in my rust bucket Honda.
The lodgepole pines lit up only by my headlights made me feel like I was at the start of a bad horror film.
But what did I expect? Going to a stranger's house in the middle of the woods?
Woods that the townspeople believed was home to a mythical creature?
If I get kidnapped it’s my own damn fault.
I’d put the address Kara Maclay had given me into my GPS but I had still gotten turned around. She’d told me her folks’ place was off the beaten path and damn, she wasn’t kidding.
I bit my lip as I searched for a road sign, anything to let me know I was going in the right direction.
The tinny shrill of my phone startled me out of my nervous spiral. I hesitated, debating whether to answer it or not. Fuck it, I couldn’t avoid it.
“Hi, Patricia! How’s it going?” I said, as if I hadn’t forgotten to call her yesterday…or the day before.
“Iona, I haven’t heard from you.” My boss’s annoyed tone came through loud and clear as I put her on speaker. “Did you make it to Montana?”
“Yep, I’m here. I’m still working on getting access to bear country, I didn’t want to call you until I’d made some progress. I told you it’s on private property?
“Yes, everyone knows that. You also told me you could get access.”
“And I can, I just haven’t figured out how yet. Everyone has a weak spot Patricia, I just need to find a way to get to people that own the land and then ask really, really nicely.”
I heard her chuckle, albeit reluctantly. If she wasn’t so eager for BBC Wildlife to be the first publication to print photographs of these animals, I doubt she’d be so patient with me.
Most people came to this part of Yellowstone because of the folk tales, the rumours of a giant beast that roamed the land.
I didn’t care for stories, I came for the very real bears that lived on private land that no one had ever been allowed access to.
There were only a few grainy shots of these bears out there, but they were reported to be giant, much bigger than your average grizzly.
No one knew why, no one had been allowed to study them.
The landowners – the Gulf family – had it so heavily protected that you weren’t even allowed to fly a drone over it.
Every wildlife photographer and their mother wanted to get those shots. I was going to be first.
Patricia and I talked a moment longer before someone on her end needed her for something. I promised to give her an update in a few days and she cut the call.
My fingers drummed on the steering wheel as I drove deeper into the woods.
I had no idea how I was going to get access to those bears, so far the Gulf family had been impossible to contact, and a few days didn’t give me much time.
I’d climbed bigger mountains though, I’d figure it out.
First, I had to get through this evening.
Just as I was about to turn around and backtrack to where my GPS had gotten me lost, the road suddenly opened up and I found myself pulling into a clearing. My jaw dropped as a stunning ranch-style house came into view.
I’d figured that Kara’s family were wealthy, I’d seen enough ‘Maclay Construction’ signs in this part of Montana to work it out. Even so, the beauty of her family's home was beyond my expectations.
I pulled up outside the natural stone building and switched the engine off, relieved I wasn’t late. I took a moment to mentally gear myself up for an evening of small talk with strangers.
Why had I agreed to this?
Well, partly because I never said no to a free meal, but mostly because Kara was a sweet person who had gone to great lengths to track me down.
After all her effort, saying no to dinner was a level of rude beyond even me.
So here I was, about to enter my least favourite kind of event – a family dinner.
I climbed out of my car, scooping up the lily bouquet I’d brought with me. My boots crunched on the gravel as I walked, my jeans and leather jacket protecting me from the cool spring wind sifting through the air.
I could hear faint voices inside, music, laughter – the sound of a happy family. It was a sound familiar yet alien to me. A sound I was too used to hearing from the other side of a door but never experienced in the flesh.
I took a deep breath and knocked. Immediately the door was flung open and there was Kara.
The last time I’d seen her was in the early hours of the morning after she’d finished a long shift at the free clinic.
Her car had a flat tire and she looked exhausted.
Hair falling out of its bun, clothes creased and stained.
Tonight, she was a vision. Her cocktail dress was blush pink, her dark hair swept up into a complicated twist and light make-up complimented her elegant beauty.
Her unusually green eyes were dimmed by the soft porch light.
“Iona, I’m so happy you made it.” She must have been freezing but that didn’t stop her stepping out into the night to embrace me.
I stiffened as her arms came around me and gave her an awkward pat on the back, the lilies getting squashed between us.
“Oh!” She gasped, pulling back. “Are these for me?”
“Uh...Sure.” Technically, they were for the host, but this worked too. I didn’t like to show up at a family’s home empty handed. Even as a child I’d always made a thank you card for when I was taken to each new place. She took the flowers and pulled me inside with a wide smile. She seemed nervous.
“Come in, my family is so excited to meet you.” She took my hand and led me through the house.
The interior was a beautiful mix of rustic and contemporary.
I felt thoroughly underdressed. Still, I put on my best smile and followed Kara into the sitting room.
It was a vast space, all rich mahogany woodwork, white oak flooring, and exposed cliff stone.
I tried not to gawp. It was beautiful. As were the four new people staring at me.
“Iona, these are my parents.” Kara gestured towards the older couple.
A woman I presumed was her mother approached me first, sharp, dark eyes appraising me.
Her pale blond hair was cut to brush her shoulders, and her body looked strong under a simple wrap dress.
She looked almost out of place next to her dark-haired, green-eyed family.
I took a step back as she reached to embrace me as Kara had, that was quite enough hugging for one night. I offered her my hand instead.
“Iona Murphy, thank you for inviting me to your home.” I smiled at her, and she looked from my hand to me, returning my smile.
“Our pleasure. I’m Dinah Maclay. Thank you so much for helping my daughter get home safely.” She slipped her hand into mine, her grip firm.
“I just gave her a lift into town. It wasn’t a big deal.
” It really hadn’t been. I’d found Kara sitting in a broken down vehicle miles away from the nearest town, with no cell service.
The fact that she and her family had gone to the effort to track me down and invite me to dinner was gratitude overkill, but I guessed small town manners were taken seriously here.
“It’s a big deal to us. This is my Jonah.” She released my hand and pulled her husband to her. The man was a giant. His greying hair was thick, his expression reserved but kind, with an undeniable air of authority. I straightened my spine and stuck out my hand.
“Pleased to meet you.”
“Welcome,” he said, though he didn’t take my hand, only left it hanging in mid-air until I drew it back. His gaze held mine and I was struck by the urge to look away. I fought it and held his stare. To my surprise, a ghost of a smile played over his lips.
I was grateful when Kara led me further into the room. She pointed out two younger men lounging on a couch. They stood as we approached.
“This is my brother, Kallum.”
The man looked to be in his mid twenties, in a crisp white shirt that he wore like it was made of barbed wire. His dark hair was unkempt, his eyes shadowed and wary. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a month.
“Nice to meet you.” He gave me a stiff nod, and like his father he didn’t shake my hand.
“And this is the baby of the family, Konnor.” She squeezed her other brother's shoulder. Konnor had an easy smile, and his hair fell forward into his eyes. He didn’t step forward to take my hand either. Maybe I’d overestimated the whole small town manners thing.
“Pleasure to meet you, Iona! Love your accent, by the way!” He grinned. Irish accents were popular with Americans, I’d learned. “Some of our people came from Ireland back in the day, and Scotland too.”
“Yeah, with a name like ‘Maclay,’ I figured.”
A silence settled over us. I was about to attempt some awkward small talk when they all seemed to straighten suddenly. I felt an awareness ripple over my skin. It was the strangest sensation.
I followed their gazes and turned to find another pair of green eyes boring into me.
Those emeralds were set deep in a handsome face, with a dark furrowing brow, a strong jaw, and a groove between his brows that told me his expression was permanently pissed off.
He looked older than my twenty six, perhaps thirty or so.
His dark hair looked like there had been some attempt to tame it into submission.
This man towered over me and I was no wilting flower.
At five feet ten, I was pretty tall for a woman, with a strong body from years of climbing, free running, and hiking.
I was hardly a waif, but this man was a giant.
Six feet five easy, with muscles that had muscles.
He also seemed to be eyeing me just as intently as I was eyeing him. I snapped myself out of it.