Bearly a Memory: Pacific Northwest Bears: (Shifter Romance) (4 page)

“
M
ore coffee
, sugar?”

Tanner’s Aunt Jennie stood next to him with a pot in hand. He was pretty sure she’d already asked him if he wanted more, but he’d been lost in thought.

After his trip to the hospital, he couldn’t get Brooklyn Nishi off his mind. He was more than just curious. His bear was insistent that he get to know her. That she was someone they needed to be around. His bear wasn’t usually pushy without a good reason.

“Sorry, Aunt Jennie. Yes, please.” Tanner rubbed his hand over his face. The rough stubble on his face reminded him he needed a shave. If he didn’t, he’d be looking like his burly cousin Cash in no time.

“You got that look, like when someone made off with those twenty-foot logs from Mr. Bunker's place,” Jennie said with a grin.

“Yeah, should have known those little shits just log rolled them into the river,” he sighed. His much younger cousins had stolen thousands of pounds of timber from Mr. Bunker by lining up on the logs and rolling them with their feet into the river to float them like canoes. Mr. Bunker was pissed, the boys were soaked, and reparations had to be made. Namely, the boys cutting and stacking enough firewood to last Mr. Bunker until he died.

“Scamps,” Jennie said fondly.

Tanner nodded at his aunt and looked around the diner. It was in a brick building on Main Street that had a hardware store on one side and a thrift store on the other. His great aunt Dorothy had opened it originally many decades ago. Back then it catered to the loggers who came into town to spend their wages. Now it was one of the few places to get a home cooked meal that you didn’t make yourself.

The interior was lined with linoleum topped tables, mismatched chairs, and black and white pictures of men from years ago standing next to trees that were so big as to be unbelievable. Back then they cut most of those trees down by hand and used horse and mule teams to pull the logs down the mountain. The young pups today didn’t know how easy they had it.

“This have to do with the pretty lady down at the hospital?” Jennie asked.

“Eddie call you?” Jennie was Eddie’s mom, and he was as big a gossip as she was.

“Of course, he calls his momma at least twice a day. Said that you were real concerned about that poor lady. In fact, he said you were very concerned,” she said giving him the same eyebrow wiggle her son had given him earlier.

“Damn busybodies in this town,” Tanner mumbled into his coffee cup.

“Oh, come on, you old fuddy duddy. How often do we get something as exciting as a new person in town who goes and gets herself thunked on the head and half drowned? Hell, I bet it’s in the paper by tomorrow,” Jennie said.

“Shit, I need to call them,” Tanner said, adding it to his to-do list. Jennie was right; this was just the kind of newsworthy item that the local rag would love to print up.

“Spoilsport,” Jennie snarked.

“Aunt Jennie, can’t this town just worry about the salmon runs, or whether there is a new owl that needs saving from the big bad loggers?”

“Don’t give them any ideas. So I’m guessing this does have to do with our newest visitor. Poor thing. I told Eddison to call me when she wakes up, so I can bring her some real food. That hospital crap is awful,” she said, clearly turning her nose up at their lack of culinary finesse.

“How about a piece of pie for your frazzled working sheriff?” Tanner said, not wanting to discuss Brooklyn with her anymore.

When his aunt stepped away, Tanner reached into the purse he’d discreetly sat next to himself in the corner booth. He’d meant to leave it at the hospital, but whether he didn’t want anyone stealing from her, or he just wanted an excuse to return it to her, he still had it.

Pulling out the wallet, he stared at the picture on Brooklyn’s license. For a DMV picture, it wasn’t bad. She was smiling in the photo; her eyes bright and shining. They were listed as brown, but Tanner didn’t think that description did her justice.

Her cheeks were rosy and her lips glossy, like she’d touched up her makeup right before the photo. He wondered if that said anything about who she was. Was she high maintenance? Or low? Or worse, was she high maintenance that thought she was low maintenance? Tanner had learned exactly what that was from one of his favorite movies from the eighties,
When Harry Met Sally.

He’d dated a bit. Some shifters, but usually he kept to humans. He’d run across a few high maintenance women in his life.

He always kept it pretty casual, knowing that until he found his one true mate, he’d just be stringing anyone else along. At forty-two, he still looked in his early thirties. He hoped to work long past the normal human retirement age. Luckily in their town, the humans just thought the Rochons had great genetics. Nobody really questioned their longevity.

Every shifter wanted their mate. There was no denying the utter contentment that each shifter had once they’d found their One. You couldn’t help but envy them, want what they had. Long for it.

Tanner was no exception. He wanted someone to come home to. Someone to have children with. Someone who was happy to see him when he walked through the door at night. He didn’t care who she was, human or shifter. He just knew that she’d be everything he’d ever need. The fates would make sure of that.

Maybe the pretty woman in the picture just reminded him that he was still looking. Maybe she was a mystery to keep him occupied for a while. The simple fact was that Tanner was intrigued. He knew it, just like his bear did. Something about Brooklyn Nishi made both of them sit up and take notice.

The slice of pie he’d requested was slid in front of him. Marionberry, his favorite. He nodded to Jennie and dug in, his mind on Brooklyn.

A
fter finishing
up at the diner, Tanner stepped out to the sidewalk and decided it would be easier to talk to Kate at the newspaper in person. He walked the four blocks down the street and entered through a door that had a little bell attached that tinkled.

“Coming! Just a sec!” came the feminine voice from the back. Around the corner came Kate Langley. She was in her late thirties, bookish, and passionate about her little paper. She was short and curvy. She liked long sleeve shirts over stretchy pants in crazy patterns. She almost always had a huge scarf wrapped around her neck and her hair up in a messy knot that flopped when she walked. Tanner also knew she was part of the local tribe, and her Native American blood showed in stunning cheekbones and olive skin that belied the dark wet climate she grew up in.

If he wasn’t sure his mate was out there, and that Kate wouldn’t be planning their wedding after their first date, he’d ask her out. But no matter how adorable, she wasn’t his one.

“Sheriff! What can I do for you?” she asked smiling when she saw him. Tanner always thought she had a little crush on him. He knew she wasn’t meant for him, so he made sure to always be kind but courteously aloof to her. No reason to burst her bubble.

“Hi Kate, I was hoping to find you here,” Tanner said, taking off his cap.

“Oh you know me, the news waits for no one!” she said excitedly. Then blushed as she realized that was a dorky thing to say. Kate liked Sheriff Rochon, probably a little too much.

“I’m guessing by now you’ve heard about our little incident in the woods earlier?”

“Oh yes, having a helicopter transport a victim? That’s big news around here,” she said, practically rubbing her hands together.

“About that, I have an ongoing investigation regarding the person involved. I’d appreciate it if you could leave out any personal information you may have gathered.”

Tanner didn’t like meddling with the affairs of the town. His family had a lot of sway, but they were careful and reluctant to use it and interfere. They loved Apex and wanted it to keep running smoothly for shifters and humans alike. But with Brooklyn’s safety at stake, Tanner was willing to push the boundaries.

“Oh dear, sounds serious. Can I say a hiker was found in the woods suffering exposure and needed airlifting to the hospital?” Kate wanted her story, but as long as she wasn’t asked to lie, she seemed willing to work with him.

“That would be great. Once I have everything figured out, you can run what you want.”

“I don’t mind, Sheriff. Anything for you,” she said, leaning over the counter. Tanner thought it was an attempt to push up her cleavage at him, but he didn’t want to look down to confirm.

“Appreciate it, Kate. Tell your family hello for me,” Tanner said, putting on his hat so he could hightail it out of there before she flashed him something.

“Will do, Sheriff,” she said, giving him a wink.

Yup, Kate was gonna be trouble for some guy. The good kind of trouble.

Tanner drove home fighting the urge to turn around and hit the hospital to check in on Brooklyn. Knowing it would do no good to hang around waiting for her to wake up, he forced himself to head home for the night.

Pulling up to his home, he felt the same sense of pride as he did every time he saw it.

Tanner had bought his house on the outskirts of town right out of the academy. It was a two-story Victorian house built at the turn of the century. The wraparound porch that circled the house was what sold him on it. It had been run down, lived in but unmaintained for decades.

It had a charm that Tanner knew would shine through with a little elbow grease. He spent any off time he had sanding, painting, and replacing the intricate cornice work in the eves. The interior had to be fully updated. New wiring, plumbing, and a furnace. It took him almost five years to get it the way he wanted it. The way he imagined he’d be proud to raise a family in.

Now the hardwood floors gleamed. The wood built-ins in the dining and living room held his book collection and his great-grandmother’s china. The kitchen matched the time period of the home, but everything was state of the art made to look vintage. He’d even found boxes of old subway tiles at a thrift shop and managed to tile the kitchen walls with them.

The upstairs had three bedrooms and two bathrooms all off the main hall. The hallway was open with a wood banister connected to the stairs. His favorite part was right above the front door. A large stained glass window that had an image of a peacock in colors of blue, green, and orange. Why the builder had chosen a peacock, he didn’t know, but at night when the sun was setting the light would refract through the window and paint the inside of his house like a rainbow.

Tanner always wondered what a child would think of it the first time they saw it. He loved it, so he hoped they would too.

Turning off the truck in the driveway, he got out and looked longingly at the garage. Inside was a wood-hulled Chris Craft boat he’d been restoring. Another project that he worked on now that the house was done. Tanner needed something to do with his hands. He wasn’t a TV watcher. He liked to read, but too many hours sitting made him crazy. So after the house was done, he refenced the entire yard.

It went on like that for years, updating, adding, and fixing until the house was so perfect it was practically brand new.

Then he’d planted a garden. Deciding he needed gardening storage, he’d built a shed. Then he got on a chicken craze and built a moveable hen house so he could keep the chickens happy moving them around the yard.

He’d yet to get the chickens since he was afraid he’d forget about them, and they’d starve to death. So the boat was his latest project. Boats didn’t starve.

Tonight he needed a shower and bed. No more thinking about Brooklyn Nishi. No more worrying about things he couldn’t control.

Walking through his back kitchen door, he flipped on the light and called out, “I’m home.” There never was an answer, but Tanner knew some day there would be, and he’d already be in the habit of letting his family know when he was home safe.

Tanner still had Brooklyn’s purse in his hand. He set it on the counter after locking the door and hit the fridge for a beer. Twisting off the top, he took a few deep pulls and let out an exaggerated sigh.

“Buck up, Tanner,” he told himself.

He closed the fridge and took his beer upstairs to the master bedroom at the end of the hallway. This, too, was a room he planned to share with someone. He’d purchased an antique bedroom set from a local store. It was old but not overly ornate. A solid mahogany frame covered with a cream colored bedspread. The set had matching nightstands with a single lamp on each. Black bases with cream lampshades. He had one long dresser on the wall opposite the bed with a large mirror hung above it. On the dresser sat a lone leather tray where he kept his wallet, change, and keys.

After emptying his pockets, Tanner walked to the closet and opened the doors. He didn’t have much in the way of clothes. Mostly it held his uniforms, all in plastic bags from the dry cleaners. Ironing was not one of Tanner’s strong suits.

Unclipping his belt, he pulled out his gun, checked the chamber and hung the belt on a hook inside the door.

Tossing his uniform in the hamper, he stripped down to his boxer briefs and went back into the bedroom. Placing the gun on his nightstand, he went into the bathroom and started the shower.

Stepping in, Tanner let the hot water pour over him. He tried to think of things he needed to do, stuff around the house, reports to file. But it didn’t keep his mind from Brooklyn. He needed to know that she was going to be okay. That much was for sure. Even more importantly, he needed to make sure after she woke up she would stay okay.

Finishing up, Tanner turned off the water, stepped out and dried off. Grabbing a pair of sweatpants from the dresser, he pulled them on and flopped down to the bed, where he stared at the ceiling, Tanner thought of the day ahead of him. It would hopefully include an interview with Ms. Nishi. He really hoped it didn’t end with a call to her mother saying she hadn’t woken up.

T
he ringing phone
startled Tanner from sleep, his instincts bringing him fully awake. “Sheriff Rochon,” he answered.

“Hey cuz, it’s Eddie. You might want to get down here; your girl is awake,” he said.

Tanner glanced at the clock. It was just after six in the morning. His alarm was set to go off in half an hour anyway.

“On my way.”

Out of habit, it took Tanner all of five minutes to be dressed in his uniform, and he was out the door. He kept to the speed limit even though there was no one else on the street. This wasn’t an emergency, and Tanner was never one to abuse his position as a cop.

Pulling up at the hospital, he kept his walk to a fast pace. Once he was in through the ER, he made his way to the patient rooms. As Tanner turned down the hallway toward her room, he saw Eddie leaning against the wall. The look on his face was not good.

“She’s awake?”

“Yes, she is awake, but we have a problem,” Eddie said, pushing away from the wall. “Two actually.”

“What’s the first one?” Tanner asked impatiently.

“First, I don’t like having to speak to a pissed off daddy who happens to be a surgeon, wanting to know every freaking test I ran on his daughter. Why I didn’t run other tests and what my entire course of treatment was going to be. Plus, I’m pretty sure he cursed me out in Japanese. Not cool, dude,” Eddie said with a glare.

“Her dad called?” Tanner asked surprised.

“Uh, yeah. Dude thought we were out here in the boonies rubbing berries on her and chanting to the tree gods to cure her. I explained politely, mind you, that we may be small but we are state of the art, and if I was at all concerned, I’d have her air lifted to Seattle,” Eddie explained.

“He didn’t say he was coming up here, did he?” Tanner asked, worried.

“No, but he said he was going to be calling me regularly for updates, and he wanted copies of all her chart notes. Which I, of course, politely declined without my patient’s permission. I think he actually appreciated that,” Eddie said thoughtfully.

“Okay, then what is our other problem?” Tanner almost growled out.

“We have a communication problem with your girl,” Eddie said cryptically.

“She doesn’t speak English? We need a translator? What?” Tanner wanted to meet the woman on the other side of that door.

“No, she speaks English. Very politely too. She can tell me who the president is and what day she thinks it is. She’s close enough. But what she can’t tell me is
who
she is,” Eddie said, his arms crossed over his chest.

“What the hell do you mean she doesn’t know who she is?” Tanner scoffed.

“Amnesia. I’m sure you’ve seen it on your soap operas when the heroine gets amnesia. It’s all very dramatic – crescendo music and a cliff hanger. Come on, Tanner, you know what I mean.”

“Is she faking it?” Tanner couldn’t help but ask.

“No clue. My guess is no. The lump aside, she got very upset when she couldn’t remember, and it didn’t look fake. Why would she make it up? She hiding from someone? Crazy husband? Loan shark?” Eddie asked

“Your flip attitude is not endearing to me, you know,” Tanner said, shaking his head.

“Yes, but it often works on the fairer sex,” Eddie replied with a grin.

“Can I see her?” Tanner said, gesturing to the door.

“Yes, but don’t upset her. She’s also still on pain meds, and you can’t assume anything she says is not affected by them,” Eddie warned.

“I understand. I just want to see if she knows why she’s here. Apex, not the hospital,” Tanner clarified before Eddie could say something smart. “Do you think she’s going to get her memory back?

Eddie gave him a shrug. “Anything is possible. This may be a temporary state due to the trauma she experienced with the fall and her previous experiences. She may start remembering bits and pieces, or it could all come back to her at once. It’s anyone’s guess.”

“Glad to see all that fancy schooling makes you an expert on guessing,” Tanner said, glaring at him.

“Yell if you need an adult,” Eddie said smiling, then pushed himself away from the wall and strode down the hall whistling.

Tanner took the time to watch him walk down the hallway. He was going to meet the woman who kept him up last night. His dreams had been filled with the look of death on her face. If they hadn’t found her, if they’d been too late. The cold sweat he’d woken up in was concerning to him and his bear.

He thought he was going to get answers when she woke up. Now there were more questions. Unless she was faking it. In which case, Tanner felt he was more than capable of getting to the truth of the matter. Eddie might doubt his cop skills, but Tanner had dealt with enough crooks, thieves, and liars in his time to become an expert. His bear was telling him she was none of those things, but Tanner wanted proof.

Taking a breath, he knocked softly on the door. There was a long pause then a quiet voice said, “Come in.”

Tanner pushed open the door and stepped inside. There was a privacy curtain pulled closed, and Tanner let the door fall shut before pushing it open.

He started talking before he’d stepped through to the other side. “Ms. Nishi? I’m Sheriff Rochon. I’ve come to ask you some questions.”

Tanner didn’t want to startle her but as he came around the curtain, his eyes took in the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He’d known she was pretty, even unconscious. But now, she was leaning back in the bed, propped up on pillows, her forehead wrinkled in confusion.

Her stunning beauty was expected. What wasn’t were the brown eyes of his mate staring at him, shocking him to his soul.

Mine
, his mind screamed.

She was a bit surprised when the rough voice entered her room. It sounded older, deeper, her brain working up a much older man in her head. He asked for a Ms. Nishi, but she didn’t know who that was.

“Nishi? Do you have the wrong room, Sheriff?” Brooklyn asked.

This sheriff was handsome, though. Devastatingly so. He was tall, and his broad chest looked to be all muscle, stretching the fabric of his uniform. She’d thought for a moment he was wearing one of those bulletproof vests, but no, that was just solid flat muscle.

She wondered if he was there because she was a criminal. She didn’t feel like a criminal. Of course, having no clue what that actually felt like, she was just guessing.

She saw he had a purse in his hand. That was strange, a cop carrying a purse. But then everything was strange since she’d woke up with this splitting headache.

The doctor had come in and asked her what her name was. She went to answer and drew a blank. It felt like it was on the tip of her tongue. Her name, simple. But it wasn’t, it was just a void inside her mind. She knew she was in a hospital. She’d guessed the date close to the actual one. She knew the president. She even knew that she was hungry.

What she didn’t know was who she was or how she ended up in the hospital. The doctor and nurse had filled her in that she’d been found in the woods. She’d been hiking and most likely fallen. Something told her hiking wasn’t normal for her, but maybe it was?

The harder she tried to remember her name, the more upset she’d gotten. She could feel the panic rising in her chest, her breathing started to accelerate. How can someone not know who they were? The tears had started then, and the doctor told her to stop trying so hard. Her brain just needed time to heal. That it would all come back to her if she rested.

She felt like he was just saying that so she would stop sobbing. The fact that she was adrift with no memory of herself was possibly the most terrifying thing she could imagine.

Was she a good person or a bad person? Was she married, did she have family – holy crap! Did she have kids?

The doctor had offered her a sedative, and she gratefully took it. That had been a few hours ago. Now she was a little calmer, physically. Her brain felt like it was running a marathon, though.

Looking up at the sheriff still standing statue still by the curtain, she wondered if she was flashing him or something. Glancing down, she saw she was covered, no random body parts exposed thankfully.

“Sheriff? Were you looking for someone?” He was kind of freaking her out now. She hadn’t asked to look at a mirror; maybe she was hideously disfigured! That hadn’t been a thought until now. Reaching up to her face, she felt all over for scales, or scars or protrusions. Nothing.

The man was still staring, his hazel eyes big, almost watering. Was he crying? No, cops don’t cry.

That was a funny thought. She didn’t like it when she thought something that she felt was true but didn’t know how she knew it.

But he intrigued her. Besides being handsome, there was something that made her feel like she knew him, had met him before. Maybe he knew her, and that’s why he was there.

Her fingers were itching to reach out to him. Like it would be normal for her to hold out her hand and have him grab it. Something they had done before? Her memory was a blank on this man. You would think someone as good looking as him would burn an indelible memory.