Bowen
Driving to town, I couldn’t get what I’d just heard out of my mind. We’d had a meeting this morning where we were told that budget cuts for national parks, previously only a rumor, were happening. The federal government had decided that too much money was going to us when they had other things they’d rather spend it on. Pet projects. Jets for cabinet members. Who knew what. All we were told was that there would be cuts, and what those would be would be revealed in the near future.
Did it mean layoffs?
Nobody knew. The supervisor made his announcement and then left the meeting. But there weren’t that many places where cuts could happen. Personnel was a no-brainer. But seniority should count, right? I didn’t have the most longevity, but there were several behind me. That should give me some protection. It wasn’t just the work but the fact that I adored it. Being in the forest all day, sharing my love of the park and its flora and fauna with guests, occasionally giving someone information that kept them from injury or worse. Truth: I felt like a superhero some days.
But not much information had been given out yet, and I couldn’t worry about it too much. I had a whole lot to do on my day off, especially this one. Every other week, I made the trek into town for groceries and to pick up my mail. Early spring in our area was stunning; even the highway was flanked by riots of wildflowers and trees bursting with that light bright green that only appeared at this time. My mind eased, caressed by beauty. Nature got me every time.
The store was anything but a supermarket, more of a glorified mom-and-pop, but they did a remarkable job of gettingfresh produce even at this season, somehow, and their meats were all locally raised and of the very finest quality. Dairy, too. With a job that often had me out overnight, I used these weekends to meal prep, maybe make a stew or soup or casserole I could easily eat off of all week. Sandwich makings, too, and other things I could toss in my backpack for lunch or dinner. Granola bars, cookies…true gourmet fare.
Tossing things into the cart, I planned the rest of my day. These easy tasks that made life organized were truly soothing, and after all the chores, I would have time for a moonlight run. Let my wolf out to enjoy the park as well. The store had a special on stew meat, so I bought a couple of pounds of the beef and an assortment of root vegetables to make a hearty dish. And a six pack of dark beer. One bottle for the soup and the other five for the cook.
I piled the groceries in the truck bed then trotted across the street to pick up my mail from my PO box. I fanned through it but looked like mostly ads. Living in my cabin in the park, my rent and utilities were considered part of my compensation, so I didn’t get many bills. Phone, one credit card… My old truck had been bought for cash. Overall, my work allowed me the pleasure of a job that suited me and my wolf, the lack of worry about so many expenses. Just perfect.
Or it would have been if I had a mate.
No matter how happy I was in my career, there was no substitution for another person to love.
But that was nothing new, so I tossed the mail in the passenger seat to sort later and drove on home. The rest of the day was taken up with cooking and laundry, cleaning and cutting the grass around the cabin. By the time it was all done, the sun had set, and my wolf demanded to take his fur in the moonlight.
Which sounded good to me.
Next morning, although it was Sunday, I was scheduled to work, and that was perfectly fine. I hopped in the truck and drove down to the station. Sometimes I ran, but it was cool and a little drizzly, so I figured it would be nice to at least start the day in a dry uniform. Odds were good I’d be soaked to the skin before noon—but that couldn’t be helped. I arrived about ten minutes early and remembered the mail on the other seat. Picking it up, I tucked it inside my jacket and carried it in where I could throw away all the junk.
But then, among all the flyers and garbage, I came upon a stiff thick envelope. If it was junk mail, someone had really spent some money. Even a wax seal? Maybe an ad for a time-share or something? But as soon as I pulled out the invitation, my breath caught in my throat.
The Bearclaw Inn.
Where no guest left unmated.
“What you got there?” Vera’s sneering voice cut through the realization that I’d been chosen. “Going to a party?”
With no interest in engaging with her, I brushed past, headed for the supervisor’s office. I had to put in for time off so I could go to the Bearclaw Inn the following weekend. If all the rumors were true, it would change my life.
Chapter Five
Remi
I used to take road trips all over the state and to the neighboring ones as well. Years ago. As soon as I clocked out on Friday, I would hop in my car and drive until it was time to go to bed on Sunday.
But this?
I’d only flown a handful of times.
But I would ride in a plane across the world and back if it meant I would meet my fated mate.
No one online had a clue how Franklin determined mates and got them to the inn at the same time. There were hypotheses and guesses but no one really knew.
Some chalked it all up to magic or foresight. Psychic abilities.
All I knew was that I had a weekend where my mate would be, also expecting his mate.
It was a once-in-a-lifetime offer.
Noel and Seth texted me what felt like ten million times before I got on the plane, telling me everything was okay with the nursery and that they were crossing their fingers and toes for me.
As the plane took off, I was a nervous bundle. I wrung my hands and sped through a million thoughts. Who would my mate be? What kind of omega was he? I honestly didn’t care what he looked like. I’d been instantly attracted to Davis and look how that turned out for me.
