CAPTURED: GEM CREEK BEARS, BOOK TWO Page 7

  If only those who came here truly knew…

  I stared at the pond for a while, searching for fish, but didn’t see any. There wasn’t enough light. Just the sliver of the moon hung low and the speckled stars above. I spun around to continue toward the gem mining area when a footpath cutting through the bushes on the opposite side of the pond caught my eye. There was a long structure just through the bushes I could barely make out. I was pretty sure it was the gem mining area.

  It was too big to be anything else.

  The path was short. As I grew closer to the building, noises floated to my ears. The sound of something hitting against metal. Liam’s golf cart sat parked beside the building, catching my eye as I rounded the final bush. My stomach fluttered at the sight. I tried to ignore the sensation by focusing on the noise growing louder the closer to the building I came.

  It sounded like dirt being poured into a bucket.

  When I rounded the edge of the building, Liam came into view. He stood in front of a gigantic pile of dirt, shoveling it into tiny buckets—shirtless. I came to a standstill, watching as the muscles of his back and shoulders flexed and bulged while he moved. He was beautiful. His tanned skin glistened with sweat beneath the harsh fluorescent lights attached to the building. I knew I shouldn’t stare, but I found it hard to look away. When his muscles tensed, I wondered if it was because he could feel my presence. My cheeks flushed with color as though I’d been busted when he hadn’t even turned to face me yet.

  “You need music,” I said as I moved closer to him. He didn’t flinch at the sound of my voice, he didn’t even pause in shoveling dirt, which let me know he had been aware of my presence. Otherwise, I would have startled him. I shoved my hands into the back pockets of my shorts and hoped he didn’t call me out on it.

  “Nah.” He turned to face me and then jammed the shovel into the mountain of dirt before leaning on its handle. His chest glistened with sweat. It took everything I had not to drool. “Silence is golden. There’s no better sound.”

  “I’m not sure I agree.” I wrinkled my nose and shook my head. “Silence lets my thoughts become too loud.”

  “Which isn’t always a bad thing. Sometimes it’s good to let your thoughts get loud. That’s when you can listen to them the easiest and figure things out.”

  “Is that what you were doing—figuring things out?” I asked, stepping closer to get a better look at what he’d been doing. A line of buckets filled with dirt forged a wall between us.

  One I wouldn’t cross unless he did.

  “Sort of.” He shifted on his feet. I stared at the buckets, desperately trying not to rake my eyes over his body. When he cleared his throat, I worried he could tell. “But I’m also prepping for tomorrow. Trying to make sure things run smoothly while I’m gone.”

  “Do you need any help?” I wasn’t sure how much help I would be, but the least I could do was offer.

  “Sure.” He nodded to the buckets between us. “You can help me carry those in, just let me fill up these last three. Then, I’ll show you where to go with them.”

  “Okay.”

  I watched as he shoveled dirt into the remaining buckets at his feet. His movements were so expertly fluid it made it look easier than I was sure it was. It didn’t take him long to fill the buckets. He then jammed the shovel back into the mound of dirt, and wiped his palms on his khaki shorts, leaving streaks of red clay behind, before he bent to grab four pails. I grabbed two, one for each hand, and followed him toward the building. After a few steps, my muscles were already straining. The metal handles to the buckets were thin and cut into the area where my fingers connected to the palm of my hand deeper than should be possible. It hurt. I wasn’t a wimp, but these suckers were heavy.

  Liam glanced over his shoulder at me, flashing me that sexy, crooked grin that caused my stomach to flip-flop. Amusement festered in his eyes.

  “You okay?” he asked. “You know, you can set one of them down if you need to. You can even set them both down and take a break.”

  “I’m good,” I said through clenched teeth. I tried not to show how much I was struggling, but I knew there was no point. It was pretty darn clear. “Just continue leading the way.”

  “Will do.” He chuckled.

  I adjusted the buckets in my hands as we finally stepped into the long building, but it didn’t help ease my pain. The circulation to my fingers was being cut off. Still, I refused to set them down. I followed Liam through the shop, past the register, and into a room directly behind it. One side of the room was shelves lined with buckets of dirt while the other was a sink, a few boxes, a shelving unit filled with sifters, old scrub brushes, dirt-stained aprons, and grimy towels.

  “You can set them down right there. I’ll put them up on the shelf,” Liam said, glancing at me. His smirk grew, but he contained his laughter.

  I watched as he hoisted all four buckets onto the top shelf, making it look as though they were filled with air. It was impressive. “Thanks for the help.”

  I set the buckets down harder than I’d intended; they clanked against the concrete floor. My fingers hurt. I flexed them repeatedly, hoping to get the circulation flowing through them again.

  “I wasn’t much help,” I said. “There’s no way I could carry four the way you did. Two nearly killed me.”

  He glanced at me, watching as I flexed my fingers. I caught the crook of a smile twisting his lips and paused. “I can tell.”

  “Smirk all you want. I don’t have gigantic muscles like you. Those were heavy.” I placed a hand on my hip and held his stare.

  “Touché. Also, I do this often. You build up muscle tone and then it becomes easier.” He wiped his dirty hands on his khaki shorts again, adding to the streaks of red clay already there. “I can carry the rest in. Why don’t you take a look around instead? I don’t think you’ve been in here yet, have you?”

  Relief trickled through me. Thank God. I didn’t know if I could handle carrying another bucket. My fingers might fall off.

  “Nope, I haven’t. You sure you’re okay carrying the rest on your own?” I asked to be polite.

  “Absolutely. Thanks for offering, though.”

  He moved to slip past me and out the door, but I stepped in his way unintentionally. His woodsy scent mixed with lemon floated to my nose as we danced, both trying to sidestep the other. I laughed when it happened again. He reached out to steady me, a chuckle of his own slipping free. Electricity buzzed beneath my skin where he lightly gripped my arm. My heart skipped a beat. His eyes locked with mine, and I swore he could sense the change in me. He didn’t react to it, though. Instead, he licked his lips, released his hold on me, and continued out the door.

  I watched him walk away. Once he was gone, I pulled in a deep breath and lifted my gaze up to the ceiling as I exhaled. I wasn’t sure why he made me feel the way that he did, but sometimes it was intense. It was like the more I was around him, the stronger my desire for him became.

  It was dizzying, yet exhilarating.

  I massaged my fingers, working at the pain, as I stepped into the next room. I’d been so focused on not dropping the buckets I’d been carrying that I hadn’t checked out the front room we’d walked through.

  It was a shop. A cute one at that.

  While it wasn’t decorated with a color theme like the general store or the front office, it still held charm and cuteness. There were shelves of crystals and gemstones lining the walls. Each self was arranged meticulously. While I didn’t know what any of the stones or crystals were, it was easy to see they’d all been categorized by type, color, and size.

  Someone had cared for them.

  One stone, in particular, called out to me. I stepped closer, drawn in by its green and purple colors. It looked like a rainbow had been forced inside its pillar shape.

  “That’s fluorite,” Liam said as he entered the building carrying the last of the buckets. “It’s for creativity and concentration, but it’s also supposed to absorb negative e
nergies and stress. A lot of creative people like it. It’s like a muse tucked inside a stone.”

  “It’s beautiful,” I said, unable to pull my eyes away from it.

  “Yeah. It was my mother’s favorite.” Liam moved to my side, still holding the buckets in his hands. “She was a writer. Not of books, but poems. She didn’t write for money or fame, just for herself. Anyway, she used to keep a rectangular piece near her notebook. She said it helped charge the pages with creativity.”

  “That’s awesome.”

  “My mom was an awesome woman.”

  Silence built between us. I could feel it pressing against me from all angles. I knew I should say something, I just didn’t know what.

  “I’m sure you miss her,” I said. “I don’t know what it’s like to lose someone who means so much to you. I couldn’t imagine. Your mom sounds like she was great. Mine isn’t. I mean, she loves me, but she has a funny way of showing it.”

  Liam set the buckets he held down. They didn’t make as much noise as when I’d done the same. “How is that?” he asked as though it were the most important question in the world. There was an intensity to his eyes that caught me off guard. One that hinted at him wanting to know me, but also him wanting to protect me. “Was she mean to you? Typically, when someone says that someone loves them but they have a funny way of showing it, they mean that they hurt them.”

  I swallowed hard. He was perceptive. Observant. If anyone else had treaded into this territory, I would’ve found a way to change the subject. Liam had a way of busting through my walls, though. It was in the way he looked at me. There was an unsaid promise hanging between us in the air—your story for mine. A piece of you for a piece of me.

  “She never physically hurt me, no. I always had clothes on my back, a roof over my head, and food on the table. Granted, the roof sometimes leaked, or the power was cut off once because we couldn’t afford it that month, but we were never homeless. The food wasn’t homemade, but I have a serious love for pizza rolls so I’m good. My clothes were always well-worn, but I made sure they were clean.” I picked up a heart-shaped fluorite stone from a bin and played with it idly while I talked. “I was taken care of. She just showed her boyfriends more attention than me. My mom isn’t the lovey-dovey type unless you’re a man. Then, she can’t keep her hands to herself.”

  Liam nodded. “I know the type. Always hungry for a man’s attention, and willing to make limitless sacrifices to get it. Even if that means ignoring their own kid.”

  “Exactly.”

  I imagined he’d seen many women like that while running the campground. Hell, he’d probably witnessed their craziness firsthand, considering how good looking he was.

  “We’ve had a couple like that stay in the campground once or twice. The last one came through a couple of weeks ago. She was here five days and tried desperately to get into all our pants. It was comical.”

  I wanted to ask if she’d succeeded but figured he wouldn’t be joking about it if she had.

  “Sounds like something my mom would do,” I said instead.

  “What about your dad?”

  I glanced at the fluorite stone, avoiding his eyes. “Gone before I could say the word. Mom never talked about him growing up. I know they met at a bar. It was a one-night stand, or at least it was supposed to be. She told him three months later she was pregnant. He didn’t believe I was his, so he left. Didn’t even ask to take a test.”

  I didn’t look up from the stone. My cheeks burned, even though I wasn’t sure why. I had nothing to be embarrassed about. Yet, I was. I always had been.

  “I’m sorry,” Liam insisted.

  I glanced at him. “You have nothing to be sorry for. It wasn’t your fault.”

  “Still.” He cupped my cheek while holding my stare. It was a gentle and sweet gesture that had my breath hitching. “I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks.” I gave him a small smile and then moved to put the heart-shaped stone back in the bin I’d gotten it from.

  Liam picked up the buckets at his feet and started toward the back room. I exhaled a shaky breath. Man, he knew how to rattle me without even trying. I glanced around the shop. Two oversized photographs hung on opposite sides of the entrance. One was of the Shadow of the Bear and the other was of Yona Waterfall.

  “I love the pictures by the door. Did your mom take them?” I asked when Liam made his way out of the back room.

  “Oh, those? No. Those are mine. I took them.”

  I blinked. “Wait. What? Really?” I waited for him to tell me he was joking, although I wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t an uncommon hobby. “You’re into photography?”

  “Yeah.” He scratched his neck. “Why does that surprise you?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. It just does.”

  “Well, then let me surprise you even more—all those postcards in the souvenir section of the office you were admiring—they were mine too. I studied photography in college,” he said, and I realized it was my turn to learn about him now. I liked this game. Even if he didn’t know we were playing one. “I first picked up a love for it when I was a kid. My dad gave me his old Polaroid. I took pictures all the time. Then, when I was in high school, I joined the photography club. I learned a lot from old Mrs. Calendar about different styles, lighting, and angles. I went on to study it at a college level. It was fun.”

  As he talked, his eyes brightened. It was clear how passionate he was about photography. A tiny string of jealousy uncurled inside me at not having something like that of my own.

  “That’s awesome,” I said, meaning it. “How did you get your pictures made into postcards?”

  “You can find just about anything on the Internet.”

  “True.”

  Liam licked his lips and then shoved his hands into the front pockets of his shorts, his eyes never leaving mine. I gathered the impression there was something he wanted to say but wasn’t sure how. Seeing him flustered was cute.

  “Would you want to see more? I mainly shoot nature, for obvious reasons.” He chuckled.

  “Sure.” Heading back to Ruby to wait out the next few hours alone didn’t sound appealing.

  “All right. Let’s head back to my place. I just need to lock up first.” He pulled a keyring from his pocket.

  I followed him outside, checking my phone for the time as I went. There were just a couple of hours until we left. Penny just needed to hold on. If anyone could, it was her. Penny was the strongest girl I knew. She tied herself to a tree in the middle of town square once with nothing except two bottles of water and a sleeve of saltine crackers. It was all to protest the cutting down of the tree. It was rumored to be close to a hundred years old, but was being cut down because its root system had been getting into the town’s water pipes nearby and causing all kinds of trouble. Penny still thought it deserved to live, though.

  I remembered how sunburned she’d been, and the way her entire left foot had been eaten up by red ants, but she still sat there in the tree’s honor. There was no way in hell I’d have endured what she had all for a tree. She was a fighter. She was strong. Stronger than I was.

  She’d be okay. I had faith in her.

  Chapter Nine

  The inside of Liam’s cabin smelled heavily of lemon cleaner. It made me smirk.

  “Are you a neat freak?” I asked.

  He closed the cabin door behind us and kicked off his shoes. I did the same to be polite. “What gave me away?”

  “Multiple things, but mainly the way you always smell a little like a lemon cleanser.”

  He laughed. It was contagious. “You’re not the first person to say that.”

  “I’m sure.” He was surrounded by bear shifters who I’m sure had impeccable senses of smell. He’d probably heard it more times than he could count.

  Liam crossed the living room, heading toward the staircase, and I followed.

  “I think it’s something I inherited from my dad. He was a big clean freak. He was also the only perso
n I’ve ever met who could fold a fitted sheet so perfectly it would fit back into its original packaging from the store,” he said.

  “Now that’s impressive.”

  “I know. My mom used to tease him about it all the time.”

  “How long ago did they pass?” It seemed like the right time to ask. Plus, I’d been curious for a while.

  Liam’s back was to me as he started up the stairs and I wondered if it was intentional, like maybe he didn’t want me to see his expression. “A year ago.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault,” he said, tossing my previous words back to me as we stopped in front of a door on the right.

  He opened the door and motioned for me to step in first. The room was the same size as his, but it felt larger. Maybe it was because there was no bed. There was a desk near the window and a bookcase filled with all sorts of camera equipment. Framed pictures of varying sizes decorated all four walls. I stepped farther into the room to get a better look at them. Each wall was its own series. The wall closest to me was all images of the Shadow of the Bear. The photos tracked it through the seasons.

  In the spring, the bear shadow looked tiny, like a newborn cub. In summer it grew a little, making me think of a teenager. In fall, it matured into an adult. And in winter, it seemed to shrink away.

  “These are beautiful. I didn’t realize the shadow changed so much throughout the year,” I said, as I continued to stare.

  Liam stepped closer, causing the air between us to charge. My entire left side felt him. It sent goose bumps prickling across my skin there.

  “The size of the shadow correlates with the energy of our bear, actually.”

  I glanced at him. Fascinated. “How?”

  “Each season of the bear represents a season of life. As in nature, the bear shadow takes on the circle of life. In spring, it’s new and small like a cub. This is when we as bears have the most energy. We’re like a hyper child running around.”

  I stared at the picture of the small shadow, imagining how lively this place must be then.