Mated to the Wilde Bear

Chapter 3: Xavier

Xavier scanned the resumes on his desk, picking out relevant keywords like ‘prior experience’ and ‘first-aid qualified.’ He kept those in a separate pile and threw out the rest. If they didn’t have experience, they wouldn’t last on his mountain. That was just a cold, hard fact. Upstodatee from Novel(D)ra/m/a.O(r)g

The rest of the building was quiet, and while he usually enjoyed the rare silences, he couldn’t wait to have the full crew back. August was vacation month, so they weren’t here today.

Lucas and Nash were probably lounging in the hot tub at the Lodge. Jake—his second—and Harley were shooting pool down at Mack’s, the local brewery where they all hung out off-duty.

He frowned, remembering Jake’s text. Harley wasn’t easy to be around, but he’d noticed Jake hanging with him down at the bar more and more lately. It didn’t fit. Xavier had known Jake since they were kids, and the gentle polar bear didn’t typically jive with bad-tempered shifters, especially gorillas. Hell, maybe he’d been in this damn office so long, Harley had mellowed it.

Xavier snorted at that. Yeah, right.

He rubbed his two-day stubble, irritated to be missing out on down time with his crew. He wasn’t a partier like he used to be. Wilde Bear wasn’t so wild anymore. Not unless you counted the lengths he’d go to make a rescue. But still… a soak in the hot tub sounded damn nice. He’d settle for a pool game and a cold beer, though.

The old landline on his desk rang, startling him, and he yanked it up with a scowl. “Blue Bear Search and Rescue,” he grumbled.

“Yes, hello, this is Blue Hole Emergency.” The girl sounded young, probably starstruck and trying to be flirty with the breathy way she talked. Xavier conjured an image of big tits and round ass, but her face morphed fast into that of his ex, and he blinked it away. It was no use.

“What’ve you got?” Xavier asked, shifting straight into responder mode.

“Stranded mountain biker. Up off Highway Six near Cripple Creek.”

He grabbed a pen and paper and jotted down the details, his shoulders slumping. Summer was habitually a slow time for the crew. He missed the action of ski season but not enough to want to take a call today. He had other things to do. Like, hire a sixth. Or get drunk and argue with Harley over a game of pool. But he didn’t have anyone here to send in his place.

“I can be there in fifteen,” he said and hung up.

Xavier fired up the truck and hit the gas, taking a fast right out of the station and onto the empty road. Eleven minutes later, he pulled up behind the local sheriff’s car, its lights flashing.

He hopped out and jogged up the road past a DOT vehicle to the small group gathered. “Sheriff Williams,” he said and nodded once at the older man. He angled to include the woman who stood beside him but kept his eyes on the Sheriff. He didn’t have time for introductions or pleasantries. The rescue was all he could think of now.

“What have you got so far?” Xavier asked.

“Mountain biker went up that way,” Sheriff Williams said, pointing at a narrow trail winding up into the hills above them. “He went off the path about a half-mile up. Seems like his tire wedged into a ravine. He shot over the handlebars and ate it at the bottom of the gorge there. Broke his ankle. Can’t climb out.”

“Equipment?” Xavier asked, squinting up at the trail before it disappeared around an outcropping of boulders.

“Too slick with the loose rock up there. We need a climber. We need your bear, son.”

Xavier whipped back and eyed the man. He didn’t mind the man’s easy reference of his animal. They’d known each other a long time and Xavier knew Williams supported the shifters here. But the woman beside him was DOT, if he had to guess. He wasn’t sure how friendly she would be toward him shifting to make a rescue. And he didn’t need to hear it right now, not when that biker needed help.

As if sensing Xavier’s hesitation, Sheriff nodded sideways at the woman. “This is Laurel Adams from DOT. She’s going to take the report and coordinate anything else we need up here. I’ve got to run to another call. Damn teens spray painted our town sign at the base of the mountain with the word corn before the word hole.”

Sheriff Williams tipped his hat again and started for his car. “Get me on the radio if you need anything,” he added before he was gone.

Shoulders taut, Xavier finally turned to look at the woman from DOT.