The Cowbear's Christmas Bride (Curvy Bear Ranch 4) (3 page)

After they turned right onto Electric Street, she spotted twinkling lights in all of the store windows. They drove past a Dairy Queen which was almost completely buried in snow. They probably didn’t keep it open in the winter. It made sense—who would want ice cream when it was ten degrees outside?

As Hank parked on the street directly in front of a small group of offices, her heart thudded. She needed to know who she was and where she’d come from, but the first step scared her to death. Her parents hadn’t wanted her, but why? Was her mother a teen mom? Did her father even know about her? And if he did, was he sorry that they gave her away? Or was he the one who sent her mother to New York to have the baby?

Hank hopped out of the truck and then jogged around to open her door. When she stepped out, her boot slipped on the snow and she pitched forward into his arms.

“Whoa,” he said. He didn’t release her right away. Instead, his hands rested lightly on her waist. “Should I come in with you?”

“No. I’m not sure what I’m going to find, if anything, so I’d rather do it alone.”

“Okay. I’m going to run to the store to get Madison’s supplies. I’ll be back in thirty minutes. If you get out early, wait in the diner across the street,” he said.

“I will.”

When he stepped back, she immediately missed the comforting feel of his hands. She stared at the law office’s door, took a deep breath, and then blew it out. What other option did she have at this point? She had to start somewhere.

She pulled the door open and stepped inside. As she turned to close it, Hank waved and gave her a smile of encouragement. It was exactly what she needed. The tension in her back relaxed. She could do this. She could face the truth about her family.

After he’d driven away, she turned to find an empty reception desk. She waited for several minutes. When no one appeared, she eyed the door which led to the back portion of the office. Maybe she should just poke her head in to see if anyone was there. It was nine a.m. and they were clearly open for business. Maybe they were in a meeting already?

Before she could decide what to do, the door swung open. A tall man with thinning gray hair and wire-rimmed glasses strolled into the room. He jumped when he spotted her.

“Oh, I wasn’t expecting any clients today,” he said.

“I didn’t make an appointment,” she said.

“Well, I’m Mr. Hollingsworth, what can I do for you?”

“I’m trying to find my birth mother. I think she may have lived in West Yellowstone around the time I was born,” she blurted.

“What makes you think she was from here?” he asked.

“Well… I don’t know for sure. I was left at an orphanage and this was in the blanket with me.” She pulled the postcard out of her jacket pocket and handed it to him.

“Let’s go into my office,” he said. “Can I offer you something to drink? Usually my secretary is here to do that, but I always give her the week before Christmas off. I only keep the office open for emergencies.”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

“This isn’t much to go on,” he said as he studied the postcard.

“I know, but it’s all I have.”

“I don’t think I can help you. This doesn’t even have a name.”

She leaned forward. “I know. I was hoping someone might remember a pregnant woman who disappeared for a while and came back without a baby. I know it’s a stretch.”

“Things were different back then. If she’d been an unwed mother, she would have been ostracized. Her parents might have sent her away to have the baby.”

“Do you remember anything like that happening to one of the residents? Hank said you’ve lived here a long time,” she said.

“Hank Grant?”

“Yes, I’m staying at the Curvy Bear Ranch Bed and Breakfast.”

“Good man. Good family. I was friends with his parents for over thirty years. It was a damn shame that they died before they got to see their grandkids. I wish I could help you, but with nothing to go on, there’s not much I can do,” he said.

“Okay, thank you.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be of any help.” He stood. “Was there anything else?”

“No,” she mumbled.

As she left the room, her leaden feet refused to cooperate. She stumbled, then righted herself.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’ll be fine. I went this long without knowing. Maybe I can find the information another way.” She tried to infuse hope into her voice, but failed.

“Take care,” he said as he ushered her out the front door.

A blast of icy wind curled into her lungs. She coughed as she crossed the street. At least she’d be warm in the diner. Maybe then she could figure out what to do next.

As she entered the restaurant, the scent of greasy burgers filled the air. While the waitress led her to a booth, she eyed the food on the plates in front of the other patrons. She’d been too nervous to eat earlier, but now she couldn’t wait to cram a handful of French fries into her face.

“I’ll have a bacon burger with seasoned fries…” For a second she considered ordering an unsweetened iced tea.
Screw it.
“And a large chocolate milkshake.”

After the waitress left, Carol pulled the postcard out and set it on the table. She’d studied the clue on and off for years, but it was useless. She’d never even considered trying to find the person who’d abandoned her until she’d transformed into a bear. If they didn’t want her as a baby, they sure as hell wouldn’t want her now.

The waitress returned with the milkshake just as the bell over the front door rang. Hank walked in. When he spotted her, he smiled and hurried over.

“How did it go?” he asked.

“He couldn’t tell me anything.”

“I’m sorry,” he said while covering her hand with his.

She fought back a sea of tears. She didn’t want to lose it in the middle of the restaurant, and she certainly didn’t want to turn into a blubbering woman in front of the sexy cowboy.

As she struggled to compose herself, the door chimed again. A grizzled man—probably in his early seventies—ambled in. His watery gaze scanned the room and passed her for a second before whipping back.

“I’ll be dammed.” He shuffled toward her. “You look just like Victoria Fuller.”

“Who?” she asked.

“The town’s… uh, well, she’s been around the block a bit if you know what I mean.” He laughed until he started hacking. When he’d finally calmed down, he reached for a lock of her hair. He rolled it between his fingers and clucked his tongue. “Vicki had hair that glowed like fire in the summertime. Does yours do that?”

“That’s enough,” Hank said as he pushed the old man’s hand away.

“I’m sorry. It’s like seeing a ghost,” he said.

“What do you mean?” Carol asked.

“Hell, you could be her daughter.”

Chapter 3

Carol’s gut twisted as she stared up at the old man. She’d just had one door slammed in her quest for her mom, would this be a dead-end too? She didn’t want to get her hopes up, but the man’s outburst was the only clue she had at this point. If she looked just like the woman he used to know, then maybe…

“Can you sit with us for a few minutes?” she asked.

Hank scooted across the booth to make room for the man. After dropping into the booth, the man snapped his fingers to get the waitress’s attention.

“Bring me the special with extra mayonnaise and some of that chocolate cake you got over there.” After the waitress left, he turned to Carol. “I’m Gunther Powell. If I’da seen you walk in here thirty years ago, I’da thought you were Vicki. You’re the spittin’ image of her.”

“I’m actually looking for my mother,” Carol said.

“What, you lost her?”

“No, she lost me.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d lost a bunch of kids over the years. Girl was a bit wild back in those days. Haven’t seen her in years,” Gunther said.

“You don’t happen to know where she lives, do you?” Acid churned in her stomach as she waited for his answer.

“Well, let’s see… last year I heard somethin’ about her living up on Gallatin Road right past Highway 287. There’s a bunch of houses just before that bend in the road.”

“I know where that’s at,” Hank said.

“Yeah, she’s up there somewhere. Not sure which house. Haven’t been to see her in years. Not since her tits got saggy,” Gunther grinned, revealing yellow teeth.

“Was she your girlfriend?” Carol asked, ignoring his last comment. He wasn’t exactly a prize either.

“Nah. We used to call her Hickey Vicki. That girl never stuck to one man. Had two or three going at a time. She was a beauty back in her day. Not so much anymore, from what I hear. That’d be a dammed thing if she was your mother,” he said.

She pushed her half-eaten food away. The thought of swallowing another greasy mouthful made her as nauseous as Gunther did. Although she didn’t have any expectations about finding a nice woman who would welcome her with open arms, she’d at least hoped her mom would be somewhat normal. A part of her didn’t want this Vicki woman to be her mom, but she still had to investigate. If nothing else, if it
was
her mom, she could ask her if she knew anything about why she’d transformed into a bear.

“How long is the drive to her house?” Carol asked.

“About twenty minutes, give or take,” Hank said.

“Do you think we could stop there on the way back to the ranch?” she asked.

“Maybe we should try to get her phone number and call first. Now that we have her name, it shouldn’t be too hard,” Hank said.

“I don’t know what I’d say to her on the phone. ‘Hi, you might be my mom.’ I’ve waited twenty-nine years to meet her and now she might only be a car ride away.” She bit the edge of her lip, waiting for his response.

“Okay, I just don’t want to see you get hurt,” Hank said.

“Whatever happens, I can handle it. I’ve been handling everything alone my entire life. This isn’t going to be any different,” she said.

“You tell ‘em,” Gunther said between bites. “If she’s your momma, you got that same fire in your soul as she did.”

“Let’s head out,” Hank said.

After they both slid out of the booth, she turned to Gunther. “Thank you for recognizing the resemblance. If she is my mother, I wouldn’t have found her if you hadn’t walked in.”

“God does some crazy things,” Gunther said.

“Take care,” she responded.

She turned and followed Hank to the truck. As she climbed into the vehicle, she noticed a bunch of grocery bags in the back seat. She’d completely forgotten about Madison’s supplies.

“If we need to take those back to the ranch first, we should do that,” she said.

“They’ll be fine. It’s mostly shampoo and laundry soap, so nothing to worry about.”

The drive out of town seemed much faster than the drive in. Hank turned onto the highway and drove for several miles past the turnoff to the Curvy Bear Ranch. All signs of civilization disappeared except for the road markers. Metal stakes lined the right side of the lane to let drivers know where the edge lay.

She wrapped her arms around her body and squeezed. When she’d been at the orphanage, she’d learned that no one was going to hug her, so she needed to give herself hugs. Over the years, she’d used the coping mechanism to combat everything from loneliness to fear. Right now, she was trying to stave off trepidation.

“Are you cold?” Hank asked.

“No, just nervous.”

“Understandable. Have you figured out what you’re going to say to her if she is your mom?”

“No. I guess I’ll have to figure it out as I go. She might not even be my mother. She might be a complete stranger and that guy in the diner might just be a crazy old man. I’ve learned not to get my hopes up,” she said.

He leaned over to take her hand in his. After giving it a tender squeeze, he continued to hold it. She turned to look at his profile. He possessed the strong, stoic face of a cowboy. A thick layer of stubble covered his strong masculine jaw. He gripped the wheel with his free hand, forearm flexing as he made subtle movements to correct the truck’s direction.

What would it be like to kiss such a rugged man? In New York, most men had pasty complexions since they hardly ever left their offices. From what little she could see, Hank’s skin had the rough, darkened tint of a man who spent his life outdoors. This trip to Montana was going to ruin her dating life when she returned home. After seeing what a real man looked like, she knew she’d never want to date another corporate vampire again.

Lost in thought, she didn’t realize that they’d turned onto a small road until the tires crunched through a deep patch of snow.

“They don’t plow the back roads as much as the highways,” Hank explained.

“How will we know which house is hers?”

“I figure we can just stop at the first one and ask. Around here, everyone knows everyone else’s business. It shouldn’t be too hard to find her.” He pulled up to a log cabin with a sagging porch. “Stay here while I jump out and ask.”

“Okay.”

She tried not to stare at his butt as he jogged up the steps, but how could she resist? At least he wouldn’t know she’d been leering at him like a schoolgirl in heat. She tried to suppress a smile but couldn’t. Even if she didn’t find her mom, this trip wouldn’t be a complete loss. She could console herself in the arms of a scorching-hot cowboy.

Hank walked back to the truck and hopped in. “The owner said Victoria lives at the end of the road, last house on the right.”

“Sounds good,” she said.

The truck rumbled past increasingly dilapidated cabins until they reached the worst one at the end. One side of the porch had fallen off and lay partially covered in snow. The other side leaned precariously. A thin stream of smoke curled up from the chimney only to be whisked away by a slight breeze.

“Someone’s home,” Hank said.

“Yeah.” She sat, unmoving.

“Do you want me to go in with you?” he asked.

“No, I need to do this alone.”

“Come here,” he whispered.

When he held out his arms, she slipped into them without thinking. It felt so amazing to be held by another person that she couldn’t resist his offer. It was rare that anyone wanted to hug her, so she knew better than to turn down an opportunity.

“Whatever happens in there, you’re still Carol. The woman who traveled two thousand miles and drove almost one hundred miles through snow to get here. You’re a brave woman. I hardly know you, but I can see it in you.”

“Thanks, Hank.”

She tucked her head under his chin and snuggled closer. The terrified girl inside her heart wasn’t ready for the possibility of being rejected by her mother. But she couldn’t cling to Hank forever. She needed to go out and face the woman who might be her mom and hope that the reunion wouldn’t be a total disaster.

A few minutes later, Carol opened the torn screen door and knocked on the frame. When she didn’t hear any movement inside, she pounded on the door. She’d seen smoke coming out of the chimney, so she knew someone was home.

“Hold on,” someone screamed from inside. The door flew open to reveal a straggly gray-haired woman in a thick tattered robe. She pointed a shotgun at Carol. “What do you want, girl?”

For a moment, Carol couldn’t speak. She’d never had a gun pointed at her before. Within seconds, a strange clawing sensation started in her chest. On instinct, she took a breath and waited until the pounding in her heart slowed.

“Well?” the woman asked.

“I… my name is Carol.”

“Yeah, so what?”

“I might be your daughter.”

“If you’re my daughter then I’m Queen Victoria in the flesh. What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

The truck door opened and she turned to find Hank striding toward her. She held up a hand. He stopped but didn’t return to the car. He stood with his hands fisted at his sides.

“Are you Victoria Fuller?” Carol asked.

“Who’s askin’? You with the mortgage people? I told them I’ll have the money the day after tomorrow. I need my disability check to come in first.”

“No. I’m from New York.”

Vicki lowered the shotgun. “What’d you say?”

“I’m from New York and I think I might be your daughter.”

“Jesus Christ in heaven. How old are you?” Vicki asked.

“Twenty-eight.”

“What year were ya born? My math ain’t so good these days.”

“Nineteen eighty-seven.”

“Well hole-e-shit, girl. You
could
be her. Had a kid back in eighty-seven but left her in New York.”

“You’re my mother,” Carol whispered. She staggered back until she hit the railing, forgetting that it might not be strong enough to hold her.

“Could be. Money was tight back then. Stock market went to shit. I had just enough money to fly out to New York, give birth, and fly back. Then we had the damn fires in ’88. Everything went to shit that year. Damn near burned down all of Yellowstone.” She paused as if lost in memories. When she snapped out of it, she stepped back into the door. “Well, I hope life’s treatin’ you better than it did me.”

When she tried to close the door, Carol rushed forward and jammed her foot against it to keep it open. “Wait!”

“What?” Vicki asked in an exasperated tone.

“You’re my mom.”

“So what? Just cause I popped you out of my cootch doesn’t mean I’m your mom. What happened, you didn’t end up with some rich New York bitch who wanted to adopt you?

“No, I was never adopted. I lived in the orphanage until I was eighteen.”

“Well too bad. I figured some Park Avenue princess would jump down off her pedestal to snap you up. You were a pretty little thing. I would have kept you but I could hardly feed myself, let alone another mouth,” Vicki said.

“What about my dad?”

“
Hmph
. Good-for-nothing lowlife piece of shit. Be happy you never met his dumb ass. Died in ’89. Logging accident. Serves him right. If you ask me, he got what he deserved.”

Carol was so shocked by her mother’s outburst that she didn’t know what to say. Her mom had wanted her, but couldn’t keep her because she didn’t even have enough money to pay for food. Was that the right thing to do? No. But she didn’t know all of the circumstances, so how could she fault her? Maybe if she could get more information, it would make some kind of sense.

“Can I come in for a minute?” Carol asked.

“Why?” Suspicion clouded her pale green eyes.

“I just have a few more questions.”

After a dramatic sigh, Vicki held the door open. “I suppose.”

As Carol stepped into the freezing cabin, she wrapped her arms around herself.

“Don’t have money for the heater, so I use the fireplace to keep warm.” Vicki plopped down in a rocking chair near the hearth.

Carol glanced around the sparse cabin. The front part of the house consisted of a small kitchen and living room. They didn’t have a wall separating them, making it one big room. A narrow hall ran into the back of the house, probably to the bathroom and bedroom.

An old tea kettle sat on a slightly rusted stove. Banged up pots and pans hung from nails in the wall. Everything looked fifty or more years old, including the rug in front of the fireplace. Carol sat on it, hoping it wasn’t flea-ridden.

“What would you want with a poor, broken old woman anyway?” Vicki asked.

“I thought maybe we could get to know each other.”

“Not much to know other than what I already told you.” Vicki reached for a packet of cigarettes which sat on a small end table and pulled one out. “You doing okay for yourself?”

“I’m doing fine.”

“Wish I could offer you something, but I got nothing left in my cupboards.”