Bear Sin Page 3

  “Patrick Bascom!” she chided. “Shame on you.” She exchanged glances the bruiser standing beside her. The son of a bitch looked ready for a fight.

  “Seems like it’s the question of the hour.” Pat did not let go of her hand, and his tone was belligerent.

  Laura touched his bandaged arm. “You got hurt,” she said. “How’d you hurt your arm?” She kissed his cheek. “Welcome home.”

  “It’s nothing,” Patrick dismissed her concern. “Just a bit of shrapnel. I’m fine.”

  “How did it happen?” she asked him. “Were you injured in combat? Does Uncle Jeremy know?”

  “He does not. I haven’t seen him since I got back.” Patrick’s brown eyes were still raking over Steve.

  She stroked the bandages on his forearm. “Well, I’m glad you’re home safe, Pat. Have you seen Zeke?”

  He grinned at her, and kept her safe in his arms. “He sent his love. And I just sent about a million photos of your godchildren to your phone. They are huge. Walking already. Zeke and Jenna want to know when you’re coming to visit.”

  Laura chuckled. “I don’t know that I have time to go out to Yakima Ridge until after roundup. How long were you there for?”

  “Five days,” he said shortly. He gave her a last squeeze and let her go.

  “Five days in the backwoods, Patrick Bascom,” she teased. “After seven months in Syria! And now you’re in rural Colorado. You must be pining for the luxuries of Denver.”

  “Uncle Gil had a job for me,” Patrick said. “I had to fly out to Washington State to get it sorted.”

  “Oh. How is Uncle Gil?”

  “Happy. He and our new aunt seem to split their time between French Town and traveling. They were just back from a trip to Maine.”

  “He’s not going to change his mind about making you the CFO of B&B?” she asked in alarm.

  Patrick’s lips firmed. “No. Uncle Gil has turned the company over to me and Cal. He doesn’t plan to alter that.” He put his arm back around Laura and faced Steve. “You know, I do appreciate you giving in to Edgar Thompson. Neither Cal nor I wanted to have to find new jobs. Or lose our inheritance.”

  “You could have quit the reserves,” she said quietly.

  “No.” His words came fast and hard. “Not while our country is at war.”

  “Huh.” She paused. “Well, as you see, I have solved my marrying problem,” she waved a hand at Steve. It was worse than he had feared. Laura was deep in love with this fortune hunter.

  “Laura honey,” Holden said softly. “Why don’t you go get ready for bed? I’ll be along as soon as I have a word with your cousin.”

  Laura hesitated, but after a moment she shrugged and left the room. “You guys have to get along,” she said. “I can’t have my brother and my husband at odds.”

  “Brother?” Holden asked. He looked flabbergasted. Good.

  “Laura may be my third cousin, but I think of her as my sister,” Patrick said flatly. “Aunt Brenda and Uncle Freddie pretty much brought Zeke and me up with Cal and Luther. And Bethany and Laura.” He squared his shoulders. He would throw this SOB out of the house tonight. He was four inches taller than Holden and a bit broader. He could take him.

  But Holden didn’t meet his challenge. “I’m pleased to meet you too,” he drawled. “I’ll take good care of Laura. I have sisters too.”

  Patrick’s scowl had no visible effect on the other man. “You had better. My brother told me a bit about you, Holden. Laura isn’t some dame you picked up in a bar for an evening’s fun. And she is for damned sure going to sign a watertight prenuptial before you get married. Is that understood?” he barked.

  “She took me to Denver to meet her lawyer,” Holden said peaceably. “Fellow called Carmichael. He drew up a contract.” He reached into his hip pocket and brought out the folded document.

  Patrick opened it and began to read. His stony face got stiffer and stiffer. He turned to the last page. He looked straight at Steve. “You’re marrying her for her money, this makes it plain just how much,” he said through his teeth. “Makes it hard to believe that you are planning to look after Laura.”

  “She hasn’t paid me a penny yet,” Steve said. “And I don’t intend to take her money. But the thing is, Laura wouldn’t marry me without me signing that thing.”

  Patrick snorted. “Easy to say. But actions always speak louder than words. You understand you have signed away all community property rights?”

  “That’s right. Whatever is Laura’s, stays Laura’s. Whatever is mine, remains mine.”

  “I get it.” Patrick’s eyes narrowed. “You’re hoping to get in the back door via the kid. You better remember that Carmichael is not the only good lawyer in Denver. I can guaran-damn-tee you that I personally will see that this custody arrangement is enforced. You’ll be lucky to get out of this with your stud fee.”

  Holden shook his head. “I wouldn’t agree to leave my children and just move on. Where I come from that’s pretty much the working definition of pond scum. No decent man abandons his babies, even to a woman who will be as good a mother as Laura will be.”

  A likely story. Patrick stared at Holden and did not bother to answer.

  “Laura won’t thank us for having a fistfight in her house.” Holden’s voice hardened, “And this is her house.”

  Patrick returned to perusing the contract. “If I have anything to do with it, you’ll never see a penny more than she’s agreed to.”

  “I don’t intend to take even that much,” Holden repeated. “And I can promise you that I intend to honor my vows and stand by Laura. We believe in a bear bond where I come from.”

  “Idaho,” Patrick said contemptuously. “I hear your people are poorer than dirt.” Patrick’s brown eyes were scornful. “You fucking planned this, didn’t you? I knew Thompson shouldn’t have contacted you.”

  “I see Clive’s lawyers have been confiding in you, Cousin. But you have no call to speak ill of my family,” Holden retorted. “We’re poor but we’re not trash. We may not have much in the way of money, but we know how to value our women and look after them. But I didn’t come to Colorado looking to marry Laura. I came to see if I wanted a bunch of tomcats as cousins.”

  “Huh.”

  “Your father is on what? His sixth marriage? Chasing women younger than his kids. No man in my clan would carry on that way. Now that I’ve found Laura, that’s it. My bachelor days are done. And whatever my reservations about the Bascoms, I don’t see that I’ve got much choice. Laura’s kin will be my children’s kin.” Steve rolled his shoulders.

  “So you’re going to turn down your inheritance?” Patrick’s voice could have sliced stone.

  Steve shook his head. “I’m not a fool. I’ll take the smooth with the rough. But I’ll take nothing from Laura.”

  “Have you told her you are cousins?” Patrick asked.

  Steve winced. “Third or fourth – I haven’t quite figured it out. But no, I haven’t told her. Not yet. But what difference does it make? If I have money, then I can scarcely be accused of marrying her for hers. But I’d like a chance to get her to trust me.”

  Patrick folded his arms across his chest. “You want to marry a woman who doesn’t trust you?”

  “I want Laura any way I can get her,” Steve said simply. “She’ll figure out sooner or later that I’m going to stick by her. We’re mates. Given time she’ll love me back.”

  “Huh.”

  “Bears mate for life,” Steve said. “I don’t know what was up with your father and Clive, but I never heard of bears acting like that. No round heels in my clan, that’s for damn sure. If I left my wife and babies – and right now Miss Laura probably has a belly full of cub – no one in my family would ever speak to me again. Not my father, not my brothers or sisters, not my mom or my uncles. That’s not how we do it in Idaho. We Holdens look after our own. And when we find our mates, that’s it.”

  Patrick’s brown eyes widened and then he was frowning again. �
��You think Laura’s already pregnant? At her age?”

  Steve smiled. “Laura is a bear. Fertile. Beautiful. And my mate. How the hell is she not pregnant? And if by some chance she’s not, she soon will be. Look to be an uncle in another nine months.” Fucker was boasting about knocking up Laura.

  “You think it happens that fast?” Patrick snapped his fingers.

  “Yeah. Bears are plenty fertile.”

  “What the hell?”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Patrick woke suddenly. His heart was pounding and his mind was racing. He sat up and looked around. He was in his room at the ranch. He glanced at the red numbers on the bedside clock. Four in the morning. He had been enjoying a dream that pleasantly repeated his river interlude with Heather Dupré.

  But just as he had been about to enjoy himself, Steve Holden had started laughing at him from the top of a moss-covered tree. He felt cold. It wasn’t the temperature of the bedroom, which was a comfortable 72 degrees Fahrenheit. No, he was cold because he was frightened. Holden’s pride in Laura’s impending motherhood had shaken him to the core.

  His conversation with Laura’s fancy man had not gone as he had thought it would. Steve Holden had not backed down. He had acknowledged Patrick’s right to defend his cousin, but then he had announced that Laura was pregnant with his child. Pat had found it hard to believe that thirty-three-year-old Laura was already pregnant, but Holden thought she-bears were unusually fertile. And had no doubts about his own potency.

  Could Heather Dupré have been going for the gold ring? She had been in season. Unless she was using birth control, and he had no reason to believe she was, she could even now be cooking a little Bascom.

  He was not going to be another Clive. He was not going to litter his bastards through America. He had to go back to Yakima Ridge anyway. He would go and check on curvy Heather Dupré. And make sure she didn’t have a bun in the oven.

  He folded his arms behind his head and once again lost himself in a pleasant reverie where he enjoyed his armful of willing she-bear. He drifted off to sleep with the memory of her fragrance. But by the time he woke again, his common sense had reasserted itself. A hillbilly mistress was so not going to happen. The clock said it was six. He was packed and saying goodbye to his Uncle Freddie by six fifteen.

  He took the helicopter back to Denver. His desk was heaving with paperwork that required his personal attention. There was no rush to return to French Town. Even if he had knocked up Heather, and it was damned unlikely, she and her inheritance would keep.

  * * *

  “You’re pregnant,” Jenna said quietly. She put a hand on her cousin’s shoulder. “Do you have a plan, Heather?”

  “I didn’t think I could get pregnant. Not the first time. Everybody says you can’t get pregnant the first time,” Heather said desperately.

  “A woman can conceive any time she’s fertile,” Jenna’s voice was so kind, Heather knew it had to be true.

  “What am I going to do?” Heather buried her face in her hands.

  A gentle hand stroked her head. “We could arrange a termination,” Jenna said. “I take it you don’t think the man is going to marry you?”

  “I couldn’t do that,” Heather gasped. “And there’s no question of getting married. It wasn’t …” She shook her head.

  “You may not have a daddy anymore, Heather, but you still have kin. I know Zeke would be proud to speak up for you.”

  Heather could feel her face getting even redder. “I don’t want to marry him, any more than he wants to marry me. I just wish I knew what I was going to do.” Her voice came out in a strangled whisper that she could scarcely get past the constriction in her throat.

  Jenna’s face stiffened. “Are you telling me he assaulted you?”

  Heather wrestled with the paper that modestly covered her from navel to knees and thrust it down between her legs. She sat up. “It wasn’t rape,” she murmured. “But it wasn’t love either.”

  “Having a baby when you’re not married, that’s a rough road to go down,” Jenna replied. “You might want to think about giving your babies up for adoption.”

  “Babies?” Heather wheezed.

  “It’s early days yet, Heather, but we bears run to multiples. You’re a twin, likely you’ll have twins. I just had triplets.” Jenna shrugged. She stripped off the blue latex gloves she had put on to examine Heather, and tossed them in the garbage can.

  “I hadn’t thought it would be more than one. Oh, what will I do, Jenna? You know how much talk there will be. Everyone will be clucking their tongues and talking bad about me and Amber. It’ll be hard on both of us. If only I had gone to Portland – like I wanted to after Grandma Shirley died.” Heather swung her feet off the edge of the examining table and dropped to the floor clutching her paper wrap.

  “Portland’s not such a bad idea, Heather. I could lend you some money, and I’ll bet you could stay with Doug and Madeline Enright for a while. I’m going to give you some vitamins to take, and a brochure about adoption.” Dougie was some sort of cousin to them both – his grandmother had been a Bascom – and a part of their clan. He and his wife would probably let her stay with them.

  Jenna put her arms around Heather’s trembling shoulders and hugged her tightly. “Read them. It doesn’t commit you to anything, but it’s good to know your options. I’ll call Dougie for you, if you want.”

  Heather shook her head. She brushed the tears from her eyes and squared her shoulders. “I’ll call him myself,” she said with all the dignity she could muster. “This is my problem, and I have to fix it myself.”

  “Even if you don’t want to marry him,” Jenna said, “The father will be responsible for child support. Zeke’s brother is a lawyer. I’ll talk to him about it if you like.”

  Heather about choked on bile. She covered her mouth. Jenna handed her a stainless-steel basin. “Morning sickness,” she said cheerfully. “It should pass by the end of the first trimester. I’ll find you the name of a good doctor in Portland. And I’ll speak to Patrick about getting you child support.”

  Heather wiped her face with the damp paper towel Jenna passed her. “I won’t be able to afford a doctor,” she said. “I’ll have to find a clinic where they take the low-income. And I don’t want to ask for child support.” She put a protective hand over her still flat stomach. “My baby would be better off without that jackass in her life.”

  “If you change your mind, Heather, my offer still stands.”

  * * *

  “You borrowed money from whom?” Amber shouted.

  “We’re getting nowhere fast, trying to save,” Heather argued.

  “I do not know what has gotten into you, Heather Dupré, you know we agreed we weren’t going to be indebted to anyone.” Amber parked her fists on her hips and scowled.

  “Amber, I’m going to Portland. I bought a ticket with the money Jenna lent me. I’m going to get a job, and then I’ll send for you.” Heather turned away from her sister and went to stare out the front window at the street below. Pickup trucks wended their slow way through the main street as though the world had not become bleak.

  “You’re going without me?” Amber’s hands gripped Heather from behind. “You better tell me what’s going on,” she said more gently.

  Heather shook her head. “Don’t ask. I have to go. I asked Dougie Enright if I could stay with him and Madeline until I got a job and a place of my own. I’ll be okay.” She stared resolutely down at the street. Rain had begun and the pavement glistened black in the twilight. Streetlights popped on and cast their reflections in oily pools on the slick surface.

  “I guess it’s okay, if you’re going to stay with Dougie and Maddie Enright. They’ll look out for you. But I don’t understand why you want to go without me. Maybe I should borrow some money too and go with you?”

  Heather spun on her heel. “No. You have to stay here in French Town. I’ll be okay.”

  Amber’s eyes were big in her pale face. She bent forward a
nd sniffed at her twin’s neck. “Oh my goodness, you’re pregnant.”

  “Yeah. Now do you see why I have to get out of town?”

  Amber sat down on the threadbare couch. She looked as wan as Heather felt. “Who? When?” She whispered.

  “It doesn’t matter.” Heather covered her belly with two hands. “I don’t want anything from that jerk.”

  Amber dragged her down beside her on the couch. She put an arm around Heather’s shoulders and squeezed. “These days, a girl doesn’t have to get married,” she said stoutly. “But the fella – he sure enough has to pay child support. Even if you don’t want to marry him, Heather, you’ve gotta make him give you some money. We are hardly getting by with just the two of us, add in a baby or two, and there’s no way.” She shook her head sadly.

  “I know, Amber, I’ve gone around and around ever since I realized. Jenna suggested adoption, and maybe that’s the way…” Heather couldn’t contain her tears any longer.

  Amber had nothing more to say. Heather knew that Amber was trying to think of alternatives and was having as little success as she herself had done. French Town was not a place where unmarried mothers and their bastard children were readily accepted.

  That left going to the city, and even there, even with government benefits, it meant a life of grueling poverty with no hope of escape. Nothing she said was going to change that. Whatever she did, she had heartbreak ahead. Heather turned her face against her sister’s shirt and wept until she had no more tears left.

  “I’ll come with you, sister,” Amber said when Heather’s storm of tears had passed. “The two of us will make it just fine.”

  “I can’t ask that of you.” Heather swallowed hard. “People always want to adopt babies. And these days, adoptions are open. I’ll be able to see them sometimes. And know they’re in a good home. Likely Dougie will know some bears who want cubs.”

  Amber answered with a wobbly smile of her own and another hug.

  * * *

  It had been a long day at the hardware store. They were all long days now that she didn’t have Heather’s company. It wasn’t just that there was more work to do, it was that she was lonely without her twin. Uncle Ambrose had given her a raise and reduced her rent, so she was getting by. But her steps dragged as she walked up the narrow stairs to her front door.