The Bears of Blackrock, Books 1 - 3: The Fenn Clan (44 page)

“You’d fight for this trash? She’s not even your real daughter, woman.”

Karen shot Maggie a sad look. “No, I wasn’t so lucky.”

Richard laughed. “You’ve not so much as looked at her since she was a young girl. Why do you care now?”

“I always cared. But I knew what would happen when this family discovered what she was. I was afraid to love something I knew could be taken away from me. I was afraid to love something I didn’t understand.”

Maggie frowned, fighting not to let her emotion show. She didn’t want to lose face in front of her entire family.

“I’ll regret that forever, now. But if you think I’ll allow you to harm her, you’re sadly mistaken. Richard White Eagle, I challenge you for status of chief.”

“You’re not a Talbot! You can’t be chief!” Richard screamed, but his voice was wavering now. He was afraid.

“No? I suppose you’re right, but I can offer myself as champion. Paul?”

Uncle Paul gave Karen an almost awestruck look. Even he knew he wasn’t strong enough to defeat Richard, but he was willing to try. Hearing Karen’s offer freed him from certain defeat, and the relief was plain on his face.

Richard stepped away, scanning the faces around him as though desperately seeking exit. “This is not our way. You’re a Holden!
She’s
a god damn mountain lion! Neither of you belong here!”

Paul stepped from the crowd to stand before Richard White Eagle. “Talbot Clan, will you accept me as your chief?”

The faces of the Talbot family, their features lit by the morning sun, bowed their heads solemnly, save for Graham and Robert – Richard White Eagle’s sons.

Paul raised his hand to the crowd. “Will you accept Maggie Light Foot to our clan?”

There was a moment’s of pause, the Talbots turning to confer with each other. Then the same solemn nod signified something Maggie never imagined possible – her family accepted her.

Paul turned back to Richard again. “Do you accept my decision to exile Richard White Eagle for his cowardly corruption of our ways, and for the death of our brother, Broken Arrow?”

Maggie watched as Ted Broken Arrow’s two children stepped forward, offering their support to Paul, coming forward to kiss his hand in gesture of loyalty to a new chief.

Richard fumbled for words. “You can’t do this! None of you are my better! None of you are even my equal! You haven’t won your place yet, Paul Faces East! Fight me yourself!”

Richard stumbled then, leaning hard toward the water. Graham ran forward to support his father, wrapping his arms around the man as he slumped to the side. Richard White Eagle fell, and for an instant his back turned to the crowd. Everyone could see what was wrong.

Maggie had torn a hole into the back of his neck, and blood was pouring down his back, unseen. The man was trying to bleed to death.

“Father!” Graham said, fighting to steady the man before he hit the ground. Deacon was across the clearing in an instant, kneeling beside Richard White Eagle. Deacon bundled his own shirt up to press it to the bleeding wound. Richard protested, but his fervor was fading quickly now.

“John! Get the truck ready!” Deacon said, and John was gone into the woods without another comment. Then Maggie watched Deacon turn to Graham. “We need to get him to the truck. Hey, hey buddy. You gotta help me. Can you do that?”

Graham was rattled, clearly upset to see his father fall. The man nodded, and without any further word, Deacon and Graham Talbot hoisted Richard up and began hauling him across the clearing toward the trees. As Maggie watched, wordless and in shock, her mother turned back toward her, her own expression awestruck.

She gave a sad, but awed smile. “You would have won, baby.”

Maggie’s throat tightened instantly. She hadn’t heard Karen Talbot call her that in over ten years.

Karen stepped toward her, brushing Maggie’s hair away from her face. “I’m so sorry, my girl. I’ll never be able to make it up to you, but – I’m just so sorry.”

“Maggie, darlin.”

Maggie turned to find Patrick Fenn shooting her an expectant look, his eyebrows high as he held her father, Maynard, on his feet. Maggie remembered her father’s injuries and lunged to his side.

“Oh god, Maynard!” Karen said, moving to take Maynard’s arm from Patrick. “I told you you weren’t well enough! He wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

Maggie felt the soft give of her father’s skin under her bloodied fingers, and fought against the pain in her hip as she walked with him toward the tree line. There’d be more than one Talbot in the emergency room tonight.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“Jesus Christ! Another one?” The nurse at the emergency room asked as she took in the sight of Richard White Eagle, his tan skin turning almost grey with blood loss. “What the hell is going on out on the rez? Is this a bear attack, too?”

Deacon knew the nurse well. Her name was Sandy, and she was a gossip hound to the infinite power.

Deacon glanced at Richard one more time before the stretcher was wheeled away. Saying it was a mountain lion attack in Maine would not be well received. Mountain lions were all but extinct in their part of the country, now. If news of a mountain lion attack got out, hunters would be looking for Maggie for years.

“Looks like it,” Deacon said.

“Well, Jesus. Somebody better get out and bag this thing before it gets its hands on a kid or something.”

Deacon nodded.

“You’re not looking too good either,” Sandy said, gesturing to Deacon’s wounds.

Deacon glanced down at his bare chest and the seeped through bandages. He shrugged.

“Come on, then. Let me get you squared away.”

“No, no. I gotta get back -”

“Oh bull shit, Fenn. Get in here and I’ll give it a quick wrap up. If you’re going out in the world looking like that, people are gonna think we’re something out of
The
Hills Have Eyes
. Or worse. Come on.”

Just as Deacon began to protest a second time, the doors to the clinic opened with a soft hiss and Maggie appeared in the doorway, walking her injured father inside. Sandy saw the man and lost all interest in Deacon.

“Mr. Talbot! How did you get out of your bed? You’re in no state, sir. Come on, here. Let’s get him back to bed.”

Sandy produced a wheelchair with startling speed, and Maggie disappeared down the hallway with her father, her mother in tow just behind.

Deacon stood there a moment, the familiar smell of clinical antibacterial surrounding him. He was frozen to the spot. He couldn’t leave until he saw Maggie, but he couldn’t barge into her father’s room and encroach upon their time together. He had no place there. He’d only so much as slept with her once, he had no right to demand her nearness now.

“Is everyone here?”

Deacon turned to find Paul Talbot standing in the front doors of the clinic, his young son just behind him. Making their way toward the building, Deacon spotted several of the Talbots just outside. Richard White Eagle’s son, Robert, rushed through the doors and took off down the hall just as John appeared from the bathroom. Despite several washes, his hands were still stained with blood. Deacon hadn’t even thought to wash it off yet.

Maggie had distracted him from all other thought.

“You alright, Deac?”

Deacon startled, realizing he’d been standing there with John for five minutes in silence. Deacon nodded, slowly.

Was he alright?

“I think so.”

“Hey, she’s ok. We’re all ok.”

We’re all ok. These words settled in like a tired head on a feather pillow. Gramps was ok, too. He hadn’t been forced to fight a stronger, younger bear; he hadn’t given himself in place of Maggie. Deacon remembered the moments when Maggie shifted again, seeing her become what she was, hearing the roars that could come from her throat, the fury she fought with. He’d been in awe. Yet in the wake of that awe was the memory of watching her hurt, watching her fall at the hands of two bears, and the desperate need to throw himself in the way.

Had Maggie’s mother not come when she did, Deacon would have wedged a rift between the Fenns and the Talbots forever.

It would have been worth it.

“Come on, man. Let’s get you something to wear. Look like you’re modeling for a god damn firemen’s calendar.”

Deacon laughed, glancing down at himself. He had the build of a bear, but covered in bandages and god knows whose blood, Deacon wasn’t feeling too sexy.

“No, that’s Kirk. I’m posing for the medical personnel calendar.”

John raised an eyebrow. “That’s not a real thing. Put a shirt on, dick.”

Deacon laughed, taking the hooded sweatshirt his brother offered and pulling it over his head with care. He might be a bear, but a bite through the shoulder hurts like a bitch.

“Deacon?”

He startled around, gob smacked at the sight of Maggie. She’d been naked when she left the clearing. Now she was dressed in hospital gown and pants. The hospital blue looked strangely beautiful against her tan skin.

Deacon surged toward her, stopping himself before he drew close enough to touch her. The last time he laid a hand on her, they’d been making love – or ravaging each other, more like. Now, he wanted to collect her in his arms and protect her from the world. These thoughts seemed strange after seeing with his own eyes just how capable she was of protecting herself.

They stood there in a strange dance, both silent and awkwardly eyeing parts of the room, as though looking at each other might burn. Deacon glanced down at her feet, catching sight of a dark patch seeping through the fabric of her pants.

“Sweetheart, you’re bleeding.”

She startled, glancing down in almost embarrassment. She moved the hospital johnny, pulling it over the dark patch to hide it from view.

“How bad is it?” Deacon asked, reaching for her.

She shirked away from him, pushing his hands as she stepped back. “It’s fine. I’m fine. You’ve done enough, Deacon. Please.”

“Damn it, Mag! Let me look at you.”

He took her by the arms and pulled her gently, leading her into a small alcove that led to the nurses’ break room. He turned her back to the wall, dropped to his knees, and pulled the elastic of her pants away from her waist to see the wound. The claw marks were raw and jagged, but they weren’t too deep. The massive purple bruise that was forming around them was nothing to be trifled with.

“Ah shit, honey. Is it super sore?”

Maggie frowned, finally meeting his gaze as she nodded. It hurts a little when I walk – and sitting down is fucking impossible, but -”

“Let me get you some Tylenol or – I’ll find you something -”

“Deacon, no. Wait.”

She reached for him, taking hold of his wrist before he could leave her there. Deacon let her pull him back, standing over her there in the quiet hallway of the medical center.  The desire to collect her in his arms was only amplified now in that quiet space. He was sure she could feel it.

“I am going to stay with my dad for a while.”

Deacon nodded. “Of course. Of course. Do you want me to stay?”

Maggie looked up into his eyes and didn’t speak. He felt vulnerable suddenly. He swallowed.

Finally, she shook her head. “No. You go home, alright?”

Deacon frowned. This request hurt, somehow.

She touched her hand to his chest. “Shower. Sleep for hours and hours, ok?”

“I don’t want to just leave you here,” he said, and his tone betrayed more disappointment than he ever intended.

You sound like a whiny, needy asshole, Deacon. For fuck’s sake, she’s gonna look at you like Carissa did.

Maggie smiled, reaching up to tuck a piece of Deacon’s hair behind his ear. “I’ll come see you when I’m free, alright?”

Deacon took a deep breath. He nodded. “Okay. Sounds good.”

She tried to stand on her tip toes, wincing when the act caused her pain. That hip was more painful than she would let on, clearly. He leaned down to her instead, letting her kiss him on the cheek before she made her way back out into the lobby and down the hall to rejoin her parents.

Deacon stood there for a long while, staring after the woman he feared he’d already managed to fuck it up with. If she wanted him, she’d have asked him to stay, wouldn’t she?

His skin still smelled of her from just hours before, but now it felt as though they’d never touched.

You fucking idiot. I told you not to get attached after three days, he thought.

He stood for a long while, dreading the notion of going home to his empty house to waste away the hours with his thoughts. 

John appeared at his shoulder, eyebrows raised. “Hitching a ride, pal?”

Deacon exhaled and headed out to the parking lot with his brother.

***

“There’s another box in the living room for you, as well. I wasn’t sure what to do with the books, so I just dumped them all. Figure you can sort them later?”

Deacon nodded, following Carissa out of the bedroom. She’d managed to pack most of his things for him. The closet was already empty when he arrived, the cupboards cleared of any serving dishes or favorite mugs he’d brought. Deacon hauled everything down to his SUV, the far back now teeming with all that he’d managed to bring down or collect in the eight months since he moved to Boston for Carissa. He hauled the last boxes down to the car and tucked them into the backseat.

That was the last of it. It was almost depressing to see that everything he’d ever managed to add to Carissa’s apartment could all fit in a single car load. How he’d ever thought of that place as home, he couldn’t imagine.

“If I find anything else, I’ll let you know. Ship it up, maybe?”

Deacon nodded again. He hadn’t spoken much since his arrival at Carissa’s place. She’d pressed him for answers as to what to do with his stuff for two weeks, finally forcing him to drive down on his day off and collect it all. It wasn’t the most pleasant drive. It just left him alone with his thoughts for five hours straight.

Deacon stood by the driver’s side door, staring up at the brick building for the last time. Carissa stood beside him, leaning into him as she scratched his lower back. “I can’t believe that’s it.”

Deacon glanced down at her, frowning. Carissa’s sandy blonde hair was up in a tangled ponytail, and she smelled of Sunflowers perfume and mint toothpaste. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “It’s alright. You won’t have to put up with my socks on the floor anymore.”

She laughed to herself, then turned her face into his chest. The laugh had turned to sadness. He rubbed her arms and kissed the top of her head.

Carissa wrapped her arms around his waist, and he froze. Her scent had changed. Deacon took a deep breath, searching for a means to break the embrace without hurting her.

“Deedee, I don’t know if I can just let you leave like this?”

His brow furrowed. “I think we both know it’s for the best, honey.”

He took her by the shoulders, gently pulling her from him to look at her. She straightened instantly, pressing her lips to his. He closed his eyes, holding his breath.

She kissed him again, the familiar teasing touches she’d once used to let him know she wanted him when they were first together. He’d seen them coming. He still hadn’t been ready.

“Don’t go like this,” she said when she finally pulled from his lips. She hovered just inches away, letting him feel her breath as she spoke. “Come upstairs for a bit. Just for – you know.”

She stared at him expectantly. He stared right back, his brow set.

She took his hand and pulled him toward the door to her apartment building. He let her tug him a couple steps, then stopped. She turned to look at him, her expression turning impatient.

“What are you doing? Come on, Deedee. Don’t leave it like this,” she said.

She pulled again, but he didn’t move. He met her gaze and shook his head.

“What do you mean? Suddenly you don’t want me?”

He stared at her a moment. How should he respond to this? I’m sorry, I don’t want you anymore. I’m sorry, I’ve been with a woman since we were last together and even though she hasn’t spoken to me in weeks, I can’t betray my feelings for her. I’m sorry, I know what passion feels like now and it makes what we had thoroughly unappealing.

None of those things sounded like the appropriate response. She may not have been the most loving woman, but he was sure hearing he’d already slept with someone else since their breakup would not be taken well.

He pulled his hand from hers and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Car. Just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

She glared at him, as though a refusal was the most ludicrous notion she’d ever heard. “Are you serious? After all this time, you don’t want to?”

After all this time, he thought. Does she mean after being together for so long, or does she mean, ‘After I refused to touch you for three months?’

He shook his head. “I don’t want to confuse things. I don’t think it would be good for either of us.”

And I’m in love with someone else, he thought. However pathetic that might make me.

Carissa stared at him for a long moment, impatience etched across her brow. Then she turned toward the apartment door and waved behind her. “Fine. Drive safe.”

Carissa disappeared inside, leaving him to the cold air and the endless contemplation of the drive home.

He wasn’t looking forward to it.

Maggie never called. She hadn’t called, hadn’t stopped by, and hadn’t asked about him around the medical center. He’d gone a couple days honoring her space, then finally went looking for her father in the clinic, hoping to catch her and say hello.