Called by the Bear 7-9 (15 page)

Authors: V. Vaughn

BOOK: Called by the Bear 7-9

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Chapter 10

L
ily

T
he day
after a winter storm can be deceiving. I gaze out at the bluebird sky and bright sunlight glistening on the vast expanse of snow that covers the grounds of the Veilleux mansion. My mansion now. I push my way out the door and descend the marble stairs that are meticulously maintained by staff. I don’t bother to watch my step because I know they’re clear.

While the day’s appearance is cheerful, the temperature hovers near zero, and the strong winds bite at my face as I make my way through the snow. I break a trail that will ruin the perfect blanket of white I see through my study window. It will remain a scar that fades over the winter as more snow falls until eventually it will disappear.

I lift my face to the sun and notice my eyelashes are frozen with crystals of moisture from my tears. I wipe a drop off my face and watch the residue freeze into a thin layer across my leather glove. I’ll allow myself this one time to cry during the day, but then it must stop. The Veilleux need me to be a strong leader in Victor’s absence, and I’m determined to make him proud. My nights can be time for my sorrow.

Snow swishes around my legs as I continue to the perimeter of the lawn and walk along the edge of the forest. Movement makes me glance at the guard, who lowers his head as I go by. He’s trained to speak to me only when necessary, and I’ve never bothered to change that ritual with the men that offer me invisible protection. I’ll need to change that but not today. I suspect he’s in mourning, too.

When I get to the gardens behind the house, I trudge over to a bench. I pack down the snow with my bottom when I sit on it. The tips of my fingers are cold in my fashionable gloves, and I slip them out of their casings to hold my hands in fists to ward off the chill. My husband and true mate is gone. I gaze past the yard to the forest and let reality sink in. All of this is mine now. I own thousands of acres of land, a profitable paper mill, a few houses, and hundreds of luxury items.

A chuckle escapes me. I have more than I ever wanted when it comes to material goods, but I don’t have the one thing that ensured happiness. Victor was
changing
. My laugh becomes uncontrollable, as if I’m giggling with a girlfriend, until it gives way to loud sobs. I lie down on the bench and curl up my legs as my body shakes with my cries. Snow is so cold on my face that it hurts, but I don’t bother to move as I let my anguish take over.

When I’m finished, I sit up, my shivering so violent that I realize I need to get inside before I get hypothermia. I head toward the back door that leads to a storage room that houses cleaning supplies, laundry, and the pantry. It’s Carol’s domain, and I startle her when I enter.

“Goodness, Miss Lily.” She frowns as I pull off my gloves and rub my hands together. “You’ve got frostbite on your cheek.”

“Oh. It’s colder out there than I expected.” I reach up to touch my face, and while my fingers feel the skin, my cheek has no sensation where it’s frozen. I hold the warmth of my hand on it until feeling returns.

“I’ve got soup on the stove if you’d like some.”

I shake my head because I have no appetite.

“Miss Lily, you need to try. You’ve got a long day ahead, and you’ll need protein.”

She’s right. I’m meeting Patricia at the funeral home this afternoon to make arrangements, and Victor’s right-hand man Harold will be there. They both need to see I’m in control, and it’s going to be a struggle to remain strong. I’m going to need my own right hand now. “Okay. I’m going to go change and will be down in a few minutes.”

As Carol turns to walk away, I stop her. “Carol, wait.” This woman is someone I would have liked to be my mother and the one person in the Veilleux clan I trust.

She turns back to give me her attention, and I say, “You know almost everything that goes on in this house. How would you feel about becoming my personal assistant?”

She reaches out her hands and takes a hold of mine. The warmth soothes the burning cold of my fingers. “I’d be honored.”

T
homas holds
out his hand to help me out of the town car. I climb out and gaze at the historic white home-turned-funeral parlor. I pause for a moment and take a deep breath. He asks, “Would you like me to come in with you, Miss Lily?”

I recall how he’s been a solid presence at many of my difficult meetings and situations, and having him with me will be comforting. I’m also aware that he spent years driving Victor, and he’s lost an important person in his life, too. It makes sense that he should be a part of my husband’s final journey. I hold out my arm. “Yes, Thomas. I think Victor would like that.”

A man in a black suit greets us when we enter. His voice is low and quite the way one expects a funeral director to be. “Mrs. Veilleux, I’m Martin Peabody.” He holds out a hand for me to shake, and when I do, it’s startlingly cool. “Right this way.”

He leads us to a small office with plush chairs set across from a plain, dark wooden desk. We’re directed, to sit and Mr. Peabody moves behind the desk. He pinches his slacks at his thighs before he lowers himself into a chair and says, “I know this is a trying time for you, and I’ll direct you through the process as quickly as I can.”

I say, “The elder Mrs. Veilleux will be joining us, and I would like to wait until she arrives, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course.” He sweeps his hand across the desk. “Please browse through the catalogues while you wait.”

I pick up one for caskets and leaf through. This ritual seems ridiculous to me. I’m about to spend thousands of dollars to encase my husband’s body in a lavish box to buried in the ground. I make a note to leave a will that says I want to be cremated and have my ashes thrown to the wind.

Footsteps announce Patricia’s arrival, and I turn to the doorway to greet her. She’s dressed in black like I am, but she also has a black veil over her face. I mentally roll my eyes at the drama. It’s going to be hard to bite my tongue, but I’m determined to be gracious to Victor’s grieving mother. Harold is with her and guides her to a chair before he seats himself between us.

I lean over Harold to speak to her. “Patricia. We haven’t begun. I wanted to wait for you.”

She nods in an answer. I hand her the book of caskets. “Would you like to choose?”

Patricia holds her hand up in a stop motion as if she’s dismissing me and says to Martin, “We’ll take the best you have in a mahogany with burgundy silk. The announcements should be done in Old English script, and the funeral should be early afternoon.” She turns to me and says, “The ceremony following is to be held at the Jefferson Manor. The food should be heavy, and let the alcohol flow freely. Spare no expense. My son deserves the best.”

While I’m tempted to assert my power, there’s no need in front of Thomas and Harold, so I agree. “Thank you, Patricia. You’ve made this very easy for me, and I’m grateful.”

She lets out a low noise of contempt. “It was necessary. I couldn’t trust you to know the proper etiquette for this.”

“Really?” I lean over and lower my voice to mimic Victor’s alpha tone. “Whatever am I going to do when you die?”

Chapter 11

C
arly

B
rightly colored wrapping
paper rustles as Annie crushes it into a large box. I don’t think I could count the number of presents that were under our Christmas tree this morning. I scan the piles of gifts beside each family member and our guests. My gaze stops when it connects with Brady’s. His hair is sticking up, and he needs a shave. He says, “Merry Christmas, Mrs. Le Roux.”

I curl my legs up under me and wrap my hand around my coffee mug. I inhale the scent of cinnamon that tells me Annie has something delicious in the oven. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Le Roux.” Audrey lets out a squeal, and Donna hands her a squeaky toy Santa brought. Annie has gone to the kitchen to check on the breakfast that Tristan and Isabelle insisted on making, and her exclamation carries to us. “Tristan!”

Donna looks up from the babies and winks at me. “Think he just pinched her butt?”

I chuckle as Brady gets up to come sit next to me, and I remember first meeting Tristan at Ink It a couple days ago. It feels like it’s been months considering all that’s changed. “He says he’s her true mate.”

Brady says, “I hope he’s right. She deserves another one.” His face clouds over, and I guess he’s thinking about his best friend Keith losing Taylor. Keith’s a regular at the Le Roux house for holidays but declined the invitation for dinner later today. I don’t blame him.

I reach over and take Brady’s hand as I swallow the lump in my throat. I imagine Ian is having a hard time, too, since they were business partners and he was Taylor’s closest friend. “Have you talked to Ian?”

“Yeah, he’s kicking himself for not killing Tokala when he had the chance.”

“Oh, Brady, nobody expected that to happen. Who could have known magic would kill her?” I snuggle into the crook of his arm.

“I know. But we all find ways to torture ourselves over the ones we love.” I think my husband’s words aren’t just about Ian when he glances at his mother.

I say, “Sierra told me she spoke with Lily.” I grin, watching Elliot rock on all fours as he tries to figure out how to crawl. “Lily’s going to spend time with Sierra and Annie next week before she takes the children for her week of custody.”

Donna glances up at me, and I think it’s guilt that crosses her face before she asks, “How’s Sierra doing with that?”

My mother-in-law has to figure out how to live with the shame of being tricked by the evil that took over Taylor and allowed the kidnapping of Sierra’s children. It was a blow to her ego no matter how much we try to convince her it could have happened to any one of us. I say, “Amazingly well. The first time is going to be difficult, but Lily is understanding, and I’m sure it will get easier.”

“Lily surprised me,” says Brady. “She sure didn’t seem like a leader when we first met her.”

I glance at the calmest of my children, Elliot, as he manages a slow creep across the floor. “Sometimes it’s the quiet ones that exhibit the greatest strength.”

Donna says, “It will be interesting to see who she picks to sit with her on the council.”

I recall my first prima luncheon with Patricia and Donna’s dislike for the woman. “Well, it sure won’t be Patricia. You would have liked the way Lily spoke to her.”

Isabelle comes in from the kitchen and plops herself down on the floor beside the babies with a sigh. “I’m no longer needed in the kitchen.” She scoops up Connell and holds him above her head to lower him while she makes a noise.

Donna asks, “Why’s that?”

Isabelle places my son on her lap and waggles her eyebrows. “Too many cooks in the kitchen.”

I grin. “What do you think about Tristan and Annie?”

“I think Tristan has found a good reason for our clan to move here.” She tilts her head at Brady and me. “Annie’s a nice match for my brother, and we’re lucky to already have the next De Rozier alpha.”

Brady stiffens. “You do?”

“Oh, yes. Tristan’s got triplets too. His wife left us a couple years ago.” She shrugs. “Big scandal, but it’s not my story to tell. You’ll have to pry it out of Tristan after a few glasses of wine.”

I frown. I’m not sure what to make of Isabelle. She was quick to adapt the other day when the rescue mission went down, and I know she’s a fierce warrior. But what does she need from us to be happy? Because she seems quite willing to move here, too. A vision of Isabelle in a barely-there bikini makes me grin, imagining that summer’s going to feel unbearable to the polar bear clan, and nudity might become a thing we need to deal with.

I get up from the couch, and my mug thumps on the coffee table. I’m still in my pajamas, so I say, “I’m going to get changed before Sierra and Ashton get here.”

When I return to my family, Sierra and Ashton have just gotten settled. I hug them both as we exchange holiday greetings. Sierra’s boys are all asleep, and she’s moved them to the bassinets my kids have outgrown. I watch as Ashton wraps his arm around her waist and they gaze down at their babies.

Tristan enters the room with a plate of pastries. “Breakfast will be ready in five.” The dish clatters on the table and he adds, “I brought you Annie’s bear claws while you wait.”

Sierra taunts him, “Annie’s made you her errand boy?”

Tristan flashes a sly smile. “Annie’s trying to resist my sex appeal. She has to take a break every now and then.” He rolls his eyes to the sky and sighs. “It’s tough being this hot.”

Sierra and I chuckle as he returns to the kitchen, and she says, “I like that guy.”

“Me too.” I wonder what the De Rozier twins will bring to our clan and welcome the chance to find out. The thought makes me smile to myself at how I’ve grown to love a challenge. I reach for a pastry.

To think, less than a year ago, Sierra and I were dreaming about sexy men, bears, and a new life in Maine. With two fresh tattoos calling us, we chased adventure with a road trip that would change our lives. I sink my teeth into the bear claw and smile when the sweet flavor pleases my taste buds.
And what an adventure it’s been.