Page 3 of A New Bear-ginning (Bruin Ridge Bear-Ginnings #5)

SCOTTY

I’d known I had to leave my den since before my first shift. It was inevitable. I didn’t belong there, never had. I wasn’t even technically clan.

When I was two, one of my den mates found me wandering in the woods alone. At least they guessed I was about two. I had no clothes on except for a hat. My new mom, Flora, recognized me as a shifter immediately and called everyone to help her find where I belonged.

They spend days searching endlessly, their scenting not even hinting where I might have come from. It was almost as if I had been plopped in the middle of den land from up above.

Their computer searches didn’t help much either, not that the search engines were as powerful back then. Eventually they gave up, and our Alpha allowed Flora to claim me as her own. She had lost her mate in a fire and longed for a family.

Mama Flora loved me completely and treated me as if I was her cub. But I came into her life well past her child-bearing years, and she too was gone shortly before my first shift.

The den tried, they really did. Different families took me in, one year at a time and, when I was an adult, I was given a job in the kitchen. It was a fine life, one much better than I’d have had starving to death in the woods. But it never felt like mine.

With the new Alpha about to take his place, it felt like the perfect time to leave and find where I did belong.

It would’ve been the perfect time had it not been winter. My bear might like the cold, but I certainly didn’t and, worse than that, no one was hiring. For someone who knew they were eventually going to be leaving their den, I sure was shit prepared for it.

I got off the bus in a little seaside tourist town.

I’d meant to go all the way to the port city, thinking there would be some opportunities to make a buck or two unloading ships or I didn’t even know.

Something. I wasn’t picky. But when the bus driver opened the door to let a woman off in this summery destination town, I had the sense I needed to disembark as well.

The bus driver reminded me three times that if I got off, I wouldn’t be able to get on the next bus, and that even if I purchased another ticket, it was a week between buses this time of year.

And still…I was determined, and for no reason I could articulate. I needed to be here. Full stop.

I walked around town, looking for help wanted signs. There weren’t any. That didn’t mean there weren’t jobs. In the morning I would go from business to business. At least the ones that were open. A good many of them had See you in spring! signs in the window.

I scented a lot of humans, but also enough shifters I could hopefully find a store owner who might understand my plight. If I told them. I’d have to play that by ear.

For tonight I needed to find a place to sleep. The weather was turning foul, and wandering the streets hardly sounded like a great idea…or even a mediocre one for that matter.

Being as close to everything human as I was, shifting and sleeping in my fur wasn’t an option. I dug in my pocket and pulled out my money. I had enough to get a room for a few days, more if I tapped into my only if you have no choice funds.

Cold.

Sleep.

Eat.

My bear wasn’t asking for much. He wanted me to meet our basic needs. I wasn’t even good enough for my beast.

A B&B came into view, the windows lit and smoke billowing from the chimney.

“Off-season should have cheaper rates.” I tried to convince myself as I walked toward it, the ground getting slippery beneath my feet. “No one comes to a town like this in the winter.”

I was proved wrong the second I opened the door. The front desk had three people waiting, and there was plenty of chatter coming from a side room. My first thought was there was a big function happening, possibly a birthday or a wedding.

But the more I watched, standing in line, the more I saw that they were all guests and were here for some kind of work. They kept talking about production schedules being messed up. I just didn’t know the production of what.

It was nice to have the warmth surrounding me.

The B&B had a cinnamon-and-pine scent with almost a briny tinge to it.

That and all the scents of the humans with their cologne and hair products and cosmetics.

But, unlike on the bus, they didn’t overwhelm my senses here, the cinnamon and pine like a balm making it all okay.

One after another, the people were dealt with at the front desk. The man helping the guests had a voice meant to sing. Its soothing quality that could wrap around you. It made sense he had a job in hospitality. People would respond well to it.

Rub.

And so did my bear. He’d never been one to behave. Where the other kids’ bears were telling them helpful things as they learned to navigate two beings in one body, mine did things like this.

“May I help you?” the man asked, and I stepped up to the counter.

“I hope so.” I sucked in a deep breath trying to covertly scent the air. The cinnamon, it was him. Cinnamon and brine. And the pine was there, too, but not as deep. No the pine wasn’t his, but possibly—I looked at his neck and saw the top of a mating mark—of course, the pine was his mate.

No!

My bear hadn’t decided to be any more helpful than he was with the whole rub thing.

“I’m looking for a job. I’m good in the kitchen, don’t mind cleaning, and am organized.”

“We might have something temporary.” He swished his mouth from left to right. “What’s your name?”

“Scotty.” I held out my hand to shake his. I wouldn’t have normally done so. He was a shifter. I wasn’t sure what kind, but something aquatic. But we were surrounded by humans, and humans were all in on the handshaking thing.

“I’m Colton. Let me make sure these guys are all set and we can go talk with Mateo, my”—he looked around the room—”my husband about that job.”