The boxes had arrived just a few hours ago. Layla hoped there were enough for everyone who was waiting for them to open the doors to the public. She also hoped Elena didn’t vomit. Her sister was looking a little green in advance of all this attention.
Anders stared at the cover, a picture of Marge’s house, and then flattened the book to his chest. He looked on the verge of tears. “I love what you two have done to this house and what you’ve brought to this town. Everyone is enriched by your studio. But most of all, I love that you named the house and the book Marge’s Place. It’s so fitting. Perfect.”
Layla wiped away a tear. She’d spent a lot of hours digging through this house with Elena, helping her research and learning more every day about the aunt they never knew. The two of them had interviewed half the town also. Elena did so for the purposes of research, but Layla almost always went along because she found the stories so fascinating.
This home had been filled with love for over half a century. Marge had led an amazingly rich life with her husband and mate, his extended family, and the entire town. Once Layla and Elena started to get to know their aunt, they were even more determined to turn the house into a studio.
Apparently Marge had taught nearly everyone in town something or another in this home throughout her life. Sewing, embroidery, cross-stitch, and cooking. But she would also tutor anyone who needed help in just about any subject after school and on weekends.
She may not have had kids of her own, but hundreds of children, many of whom were now grown adults, had called her Aunt Marge. She was a beloved nurturer. And she was dearly missed.
“Should we open the door?” Hunter asked, his hand sliding up to squeeze Layla’s neck.
“Wait…” Anders’s expression changed, and he glanced back and forth between Layla and Elena.
Layla had no idea what he was thinking, but she had a suspicion when he inhaled long and slow, his confusion morphing into the biggest smile ever.
Hunter groaned.
So did Caleb.
“When were you crazy kids planning to tell me I’m going to be a grandfather?”
Layla laughed. Leave it to Anders to notice the subtle change. Hell, she’d only figured out she was pregnant last week, and she’d been stunned to find out Elena was too.
Annabelle clapped her hands together and brought them to her lips while Anders rushed forward and pulled Layla into a hug. He released her just as fast to lean down and hug Elena. Tears were running down his face as he shook Hunter’s and then Caleb’s hands.
Elena handed their father a tissue. “You’re such a softy, Dad.”
He cried harder. He always got emotional when they called him Dad.
Layla laughed. “We’re like five minutes pregnant. Please tell me the entire town isn’t going to notice and turn this into the focus of the evening. This day is supposed to be all about Elena and her book release. Not a blip of a baby or two.”
“Or four,” Anders pointed out with far too much enthusiasm.
Hunter and Caleb laughed.
Layla didn’t personally think their joke was funny, and she knew Elena didn’t either. Sure, twins ran in their family, but the thought of taking care of two babies at once made Layla more nauseous than the pregnancy itself. She wouldn’t breathe properly until a doctor looked her in the eye and told her he or she heard only one heartbeat.
Hunter shook his head. “No one else will notice. Anders is overly perceptive in general, but he’s also your father. It’s too subtle for the average person to notice yet.”
“You’re sure?” Layla asked.
He nodded. “Positive.” He leaned in to kiss her. “Relax. Let’s sell some books.”
“I’ll get the door,” Anders said, jogging toward the entrance with a pep in his step.
Sure, it was possible most people wouldn’t scent the change in Layla and Elena just yet, but their father’s level of excitement would probably cause him to tell the entire town within the next few days.
Layla didn’t mind. She was used to the small-town gossip. Everyone knew everyone’s business. Everyone was family. And everyone had taken in Layla and Elena without a blink, making them part of the family.
Layla lifted her face to meet her mate’s loving gaze.
Life didn’t get better than this.
Please enjoy the following excerpt from Grizzly Mountain, the first book in my Arcadian Bears series.
Isaiah Arthur leaned against the side of the brand new, dark blue Honda Accord, holding a woman’s jacket to his nose. He didn’t need the proximity to her clothing to catch and memorize her scent. The open car door was sufficient.
He breathed in deeply again, letting his eyes close briefly as he inhaled her essence. Clean. Feminine. A hint of vanilla, probably from her shampoo. “When did she go missing?” He tried unsuccessfully to shake the lure of her pheromones from his head.
The woman was lost. He had a job to do. Find her. She might not even be alive, and his cock was stiff from leaning into her car to grab her jacket in the first place. One whiff of Heather Simmons and his knees buckled.
“The last time anyone heard from her was yesterday morning. I think she has a room at Bear Lodge in Silvertip. She emailed her hiking route to her mother but never checked back in last night. Mrs. Simmons called us about an hour ago.” Glen Montrose, of the Parks Canada Warden Service, ran a hand through his thick dark hair, his face grim.
Isaiah lowered the jacket, tossing it back into the car reluctantly. “At least we’re dealing with a smart hiker this time.” It was a good sign that she’d informed someone of her intentions and arranged a check-in time. From that little information, he had hope she also had hiked away from her car prepared for the elements.
He glanced at his watch. Eight o’clock. Heather spent the entire night in the mountains somewhere. He had no doubt he would find her, but had she brought enough clothes with her to survive a night in the cold? The temperatures had dipped below freezing last night.
Isaiah closed his eyes and breathed in. The only scents in the area, besides Heather’s and Glen’s, were wild animals and pine. The only noise was the rustling of the trees and the scamper of small animals.
He glanced around the small gravel parking lot. No other cars had been left overnight in this secluded area where hikers sometimes parked before trekking up the mountain. The gravel area was surrounded by a thick grove of trees, and when Isaiah lifted his head, he had the most glorious view of the mountains to the north. Alberta, Canada, was one of the most beautiful places on earth.
Heather Simmons was up this mountain somewhere.
Isaiah was restless to get moving. The sooner he found the missing hiker, the better her chances of survival. And he prayed she was indeed alive.
This was the thirteenth rescue he’d done for Banff National Park, and it never got any easier. Nine of the hikers he was asked to locate had been found alive, either lost or injured. Three had not been as fortunate. He said a silent prayer that today would turn his saved tally to a double digit.
Shoving off the side of the car, he rubbed his hands together and faced Glen. “I better get going. It’s cold out here.” He stated the obvious, but he didn’t need any further details. He had what he needed—her scent and the last known time of contact. Nothing else mattered.