Page 7 of Guard Bear (Return To Fate Mountain #5)

Chapter

Six

Andre parked at Timber Bear Ranch's main gate, cutting the engine and checking his watch. Seven-fifteen. Forty-five minutes early, but his bear wouldn't let him wait at home any longer.

Through the windshield, the ranch stretched out in the dawn light. Vast. Vulnerable. His mate was somewhere beyond that gate, unprotected.

The minutes crawled. Seven-sixteen. Seven-seventeen. His bear paced beneath his skin, clawing for freedom. Check the perimeter. Mark the boundaries. Keep her safe.

He forced himself to stay seated. Joy had been clear. Eight o'clock at the main gate. Not seven-fifteen. Not even seven fifty-nine. Eight.

A ranch truck rumbled past, the driver giving him a long look. Andre stared straight ahead. He probably looked like a stalker sitting here. The thought made his jaw clench, but not enough to make him leave.

Seven thirty-two.

The morning brightened by degrees. Mist rose from the fields, burning off as the sun climbed.

Birds started their morning chorus. A motor rumbled in the distance.

These were normal ranch sounds that should have been soothing, but they only reminded him how exposed everything was.

How easy it would be for someone to slip through those fence lines, approach her tiny house while she slept.

His fingers drummed against his thigh. He'd driven the perimeter road at four-seventeen, unable to sleep after nightmares of flames and screaming.

Just a quick patrol, he'd told himself. Just to make sure.

The ranch's current security cameras would have caught him, but he'd deal with that if it came up.

Seven forty-eight.

Andre climbed out to stretch his legs. The morning air was crisp, carrying scents of cattle and pine. He walked a slow circle around his patrol car, working out the kinks from sitting still too long. His bear rumbled approval at the movement, wanting to run, to hunt, to claim.

At exactly eight o'clock, Joy appeared.

She came on foot, which surprised him. He'd expected her truck. Instead she walked down the gravel drive with that fluid mountain lion grace that made his mouth go dry. Jeans and a green flannel, hair pulled back in a practical ponytail. No makeup, no pretense. Just Joy in her element.

"Right on time," she said when she reached him. Her tone was carefully neutral.

"I try to be punctual." His voice came out rougher than intended.

Joy studied him for a moment. Then she walked past him to his patrol car, placing her palm flat on the hood. The metal was stone cold despite the morning starting to warm.

"Interesting." She turned back to face him. "Your engine's been cold for a while."

Andre's stomach dropped. "I got here early."

"How early?" She crossed her arms. "Because our security system logged your patrol car on the perimeter road at four-seventeen this morning."

Heat crawled up his neck. Caught. "I couldn't sleep. I was worried after what we discussed. So, I drove by. Just to check."

"Just to check." Her voice was very quiet. "After I specifically told you to wait until eight."

"I didn't come onto the property. I just drove the perimeter road."

"The perimeter road that runs along our fence line?" Her jaw tightened. "That's still our property, Andre."

He had no defense. She was right. He'd known it was wrong when he did it, but his bear's need to verify her safety had overridden sense.

"I'm sorry." The words tasted bitter. Apologizing for protecting someone felt fundamentally wrong. "It won't happen again."

Joy studied him for another long moment. He could see her debating whether to send him away. His bear held its breath.

"Come on," she said finally. "We're wasting time."

She turned and walked through the gate. Andre followed, noting that she made him leave the patrol car outside. A clear message.

The walk to her area took ten minutes. Joy led the way along a dirt track, pointing out landmarks. The main barn where she milked her goats. The equipment shed she shared with cousins. Apple trees her great-grandmother had planted.

Andre's bear catalogued everything. Entry points. Sight lines. Natural barriers. The workshop sat in a clearing, partially hidden by the apple trees. Smart placement. Her tiny house perched on a rise overlooking the bee yard.

"You built all this yourself?" He couldn't hide his admiration.

"The house, yes. My family helped." Pride crept into her voice. "For the workshop, I hired a professional crew.”

She led him past the workshop toward the bee yard. Twenty-four hives stood in neat rows, already humming with activity. Joy stopped beside one of the affected hives.

"This is where I found the entrance reducers moved." She pointed to the small wooden pieces at each hive entrance. "Three of them shifted, one completely removed and thrown in the grass."

Andre crouched beside the hive, studying the entrance. The reducer was back in place now, but he could see how easily someone could disturb it. "When did you notice?"

"Thursday. Morning rounds." She moved to the next hive. "These two also had theirs loosened. Could have been a curious raccoon."

Andre stood, scanning the bee yard. His bear snarled at the thought of someone creeping through here in the darkness, touching things that belonged to his mate. "And the gate latch?"

"This way." Joy led him back toward the main barn. "I milk the goats here every morning. That day, the motion-sensor light was loose in its socket. The gate latch was stubborn, and it took extra jiggling to open."

She demonstrated the latch, which worked smoothly now. "I fixed it myself. Probably just wear and tear."

"Three separate incidents in one morning?" Andre's voice dropped. "That's not coincidence."

"It's minor stuff. Could be weather, animals, equipment aging." Joy's tone suggested she was repeating this to convince herself as much as him. "Nothing was stolen or destroyed."

"Yet." The word came out sharper than intended.

Joy's eyes narrowed. "I'm aware of what's been happening around town. But a few moved bee reducers aren't the same as burning down an orchard."

"It's how it starts." Andre pulled out his tablet, unable to stop himself. "Small tests. Checking response times, security measures. Then escalation."

"You don't know that's what this is."

"I have the equipment in my truck." The words tumbled out. "I can install it now.”

Joy's body language shifted immediately. Arms crossed, weight back. Walls going up.

"Let me show you the specs." He swiped through screens on his phone. "Full coverage of vulnerable areas. Phone alerts for any movement. You'd know instantly if anyone approached."

She listened without comment while he explained the system. The more he talked, the tighter her expression became.

"I need to discuss this with my family," she said when he finished. “We already have a security system.”

"The threats are escalating. Every day we wait?—"

"I said.” Steel entered her voice. “I'll discuss it with my family."

"Someone was here. On your land. Touching your things." His bear pushed forward, making his voice rumble. "What if next time they do more?"

Joy stepped back. "I'll need a written report. Your observations and recommendations."

"I can have that to you by tomorrow."

"Email is fine." She turned toward the gate. "I'll walk you back."

They made the return journey in tense silence. Andre's bear raged at leaving his mate unprotected, but the man recognized how close he was to losing her completely.

At the gate, Joy paused. "Thank you for the security assessment. I'll look forward to your report.”

She walked away before he could respond. Andre climbed into his patrol car, watching her figure grow smaller in the distance. Every instinct screamed to follow, to guard, to protect.

Instead, he started the engine and drove away. The hardest thing he'd ever done, leaving that ranch. Harder than leaving Portland. Harder than facing his failures.

But if he wanted any chance with Joy Kincaid, he had to learn the difference between protection and control.

Even if it killed him.