Raising the Stakes

“Please leave. I don’t need the details.”

When she turned, clouds drifted away from the full moon, turning the world into a black-and-white movie. Officer Walsh—Liam—leaned against his SUV, his hat sitting low on his forehead, his face looking as tired as she felt. Maybe he wasn’t enjoying this. Was just doing his job.

Despite everything, she softened toward him. “Fine. If this is some job requirement, a mandatory update to the original caller, then let’s get this over with. What happened?”

She wished she could put her fingers in her ears, block out the words about to be spoken.

“The cub’s at the Adirondack Wildlife Rehabilitation Center. My friends, Steve and Wendy Reed, agreed to take her for the week.”

Surprise forked through her, as electric as lightning. “I don’t understand. You didn’t kill her?”

His lips quirked upward but his eyes remained sober. “No. I considered what you said. We’re going to save her. If you’re still in.”

He held out a hand and she slipped hers into it, heat flooding up her arm. Unbelievable. Elation filled her. The bear was hers. Whatever Officer Walsh had said about releasing her, or finding her another home someday, didn’t matter. For now, the cub was coming home. To her home.

“I’m in, Officer Walsh.” She turned on her heel and hurried away. After a few steps she stopped and whirled. “And thank you. Thank you so much. This means...” she struggled for a moment “...a lot.”

His smile reached all the way to his eyes. “We might both regret it.”

“Never!”

“Where are you going?” he called when she reached her pickup. “I was hoping we could talk more over pie.”

“Call me tomorrow. In the meantime, Maggie will fix you up.” She inserted her key and opened the door. Those two would hit it off. As for her, she had more important priorities than socializing, especially with a DEC officer. He might have spared the bear, but that didn’t mean they had the same outlook when it came to caring for wildlife. Not even close.

She hopped in her truck then leaned out her open window, catching her own grin in the side mirror.

“I’ve got a test to ace.”

CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_d1e63a88-fa03-5a3a-ba32-c9bbe3fed37a)

LIAM MOPPED HIS dripping brow and leaned on the two-by-four he’d just nailed into place. He glanced around Vivie’s transformed backyard. Soon the excavated site would hold the cub’s pen. He’d poured the concrete forms yesterday—the resulting foundation walls were set a foot deep in the ground. He’d secure the nine-gauge chain-link fencing to them, and that, combined with the electrified overhang, would keep the little one secure.

But how to protect Vivie? She’d been hovering like a gnat these past couple of days. Was he sure forty feet was enough room? Was the waterfall flowing into a shallow pool a safe water supply? Did he need to cover the chain link with plywood, keeping the bear from seeing humans?

Yes to all three—especially the last one.

He hefted another piece of lumber, positioned it and began hammering. Despite the nonstop studying, which had put shadows beneath her eyes, Vivie still didn’t grasp that the cub’s time here was temporary. Once it could fend for itself, assuming its jaw healed, they’d release it to the forest. A return to the wild home it deserved. But he knew Vivie’s attachment would grow once she cared for the bear and she’d end up with a broken heart.

He swore when the hammer smashed his thumb instead of the wood. Rubbing his throbbing digit, he glanced around the area. Above him, a maple tree in the center of the enclosure rustled softly in the breeze. He’d left it uncut, save for the branches approaching the overhang. The bear would enjoy climbing on it and swinging from the tire he’d hung from lower branches. The rest of the toys, including a rubber turtle that squeaked whenever he stepped on it, he wasn’t so sure about. But like some obsessed mother-to-be, Vivie returned from work each day with new goodies to toss into the pen. She’d even had a handmade sign crafted, the name Button burned into its wood. It hung over the snug wood-sided shelter he’d built to protect the young animal from the elements.

“Looking good, Liam,” a familiar voice called. He turned, ignoring the leap of his pulse at the beauty approaching him. Vivie. Her toffee-colored hair swung in a high ponytail, exposing a long, graceful neck. A backpack hung from one golden shoulder.

“Thanks. How are things at The Homestead?”

“Slow.” Vivie perched on the concrete and held up a cardboard container. “Thought you might like some lunch.”

He scanned the blue sky, seeing the midday sun glaring on his neck. “Hadn’t realized it was that time. I appreciate it.”

Once seated, he pulled out a cheeseburger and swallowed a quarter of it in one bite. Man, he was hungry. Thirsty, too. No sooner had the thought occurred than she passed him a water bottle.

“Filled it up at Cold Creek spring on my way over here.”

He closed his eyes in appreciation as the pure, icy liquid splashed down his throat. It was better than any manufactured drink. No matter how much man imitated, Mother Nature had the best recipe.

“How’s the cub doing?” he asked after another bite. The tart pickle and crispy bacon woke up his taste buds.

Vivie pushed back a stray piece of hair, the faintest gleam of moisture on her forehead. For late May, it was already hot.

“Saw the Reeds before I went in this morning and they let me feed Button,” she said. “She’s still drinking the formula since her jaw’s not right yet.”

He frowned. With the bear struggling to eat, he understood human contact was needed. Still, that would only make Vivie more attached. Given the light in her eyes, this seemed like a lost battle—not that he’d quit trying to make her see sense.

“Once she’s in the pen, you’ll feed her through a chute. Don’t let her get used to humans. If she does, a successful release will be impossible.”

She nodded automatically, her eyes roaming the green mountain peaks in the distance. “Do we have to board up all sides? She should be able to see nature, especially if she’s going to return to it, so it doesn’t seem totally foreign.”

“Sounds good as long as it’s facing away from you and the house. This—” Liam gestured to the partial construction “—is only a temporary home.” He pointed to a patch of berry bushes bordering the forest that ringed her property. “That is her real habitat. Never forget it.”

“How could I?” she asked drily. “You never let up on it.”

“You wanted this.” He crumpled his napkin and closed the now-empty container. “If it was up to me—”

“Button wouldn’t have had a second chance,” she muttered so quietly he had to lean close to catch it. Her light floral scent reminded him of their wild surroundings. For a moment, he closed his eyes and breathed her in.

“Unfair, Vivie.” He stood and brushed a maple seedpod from his pants. “I’ve worked here every day to make this possible.”

She scrambled to her feet, her expression earnest. The gold flecks in her light brown eyes gleamed. “I know. And I’m grateful every time I wake up and hear you outside. But I wish you wouldn’t be so hard on me. And Button.”

“I’m doing what’s right. Not what’s easy.” He watched a couple of rabbits grazing on white-topped clover. That was the future he wanted for the cub. He glanced back at the lumber pile. Not one that stole her freedom.

Vivie nodded and picked up another hammer. “What can I do?”

He blinked in surprise. In her blue sundress, the short hem fluttering around her legs, she resembled a princess. Not a construction worker.

“Know anything about carpentry work?” Since it was a rhetorical question, her nod caught him off guard.

“One of my stepdads had a contracting business. I can even do roofing.”

“Roofing...” he repeated, imagining her slipping on an angled roof and breaking something. He shook off the image.

“You had more than one stepfather?” he asked once he’d passed her some nails and they’d begun hammering.

“Six,” she mumbled around a mouthful of nails. Did the woman have no concern for her safety?

He unbuckled his tool belt and wrapped it around her narrow hips, his fingers a little unsteady when they grazed her. “You’re going to choke if you keep them in your mouth. Put them in the pouch.”

She spit the nails into her hand and dropped them into the pocket. “Okay, Mr. Doom and Gloom.”