The Cowbear's Summer 0f Love (Curvy Bear Ranch Book 7) Page 2

  “I think I see the lake,” Andy said with more excitement in his voice than she’d heard in days.

  Through a break in the tree line, she spotted a flat expanse of still water. It stretched on into the darkness beyond what she could see. It had to be huge.

  “I can’t wait to go skinny dipping,” Meadow said.

  “Me too,” Daisy said.

  “Me three,” River added with a laugh.

  “Let’s get camp set up first,” Andy said.

  “You’re always so practical,” Meadow joked.

  “I’m draft-dodging to Canada,” he replied. “I don’t know how practical that makes me.”

  “You don’t want to get killed, right?” River asked.

  “Hell no.”

  “Then you’re doing the right thing,” River said. “It’s the country that’s wrong. We shouldn’t be sending our men over there to get slaughtered. It makes me sick.”

  “Kennedy and Johnson were wrong to send us over there,” Meadow said.

  “I can’t stand watching the news anymore,” Daisy said.

  Her stomach churned as images of napalm-burned children flashed through her mind. She still had nightmares about the news coverage she’d seen a few years earlier of Marines lighting the thatched roofs of the village of Cam Ne with Zippo lighters. She couldn’t imagine her brother in that hellish jungle fighting an unjust war. She shivered.

  “You okay?” Andy asked as he pulled into a small clearing on the lake side of the road.

  “Yeah.”

  “Everything’s going to be okay,” Andy said. He put the bus in park and reached over to squeeze her hand. “I’ll be in Canada in a couple of days. Dad won’t be able to stop me.”

  “I can’t understand why he wants you to turn yourself in,” she said.

  “He’s a clerk at the courthouse. How would it look to his bosses if he let his son commit a crime?” Andy asked.

  “I know,” Daisy said.

  “Hell no! We won’t go!” Meadow hollered from the back seat.

  “Shh,” Daisy hissed. “Remember what that guy said about the farmer with the shotgun? Keep quiet so we don’t have to bug out.”

  “Oh, right,” Meadow said.

  “Get the tents,” Andy said.

  After they’d set up camp, Daisy crawled into her tent. A well-worn sleeping bag gave her a thin layer of protection from the ground. She missed her own bed, but she could never go back now. Her dad would kill her if he ever found out she’d helped Andy escape. She was already the black sheep of the family; this act of treason would only solidify his opinion of his youngest daughter.

  “We’ll leave at first light,” Andy said.

  “Goodnight,” Meadow said as she crawled into the third tent with River.

  Everyone zipped up their tents and within minutes, Andy’s soft snoring filled the air. A low moan cut through the night. Daisy groaned and stuffed her fingers in her ears. Her friends couldn’t go one night without making love. She was half-convinced they were reincarnated rabbits. They sure screwed like animals.

  Time passed with excruciating slowness. The more she tried to force herself to fall asleep, the wider awake she became. Finally, she gave up and quietly unzipped the tent. She peeked out. Both of the flaps on the other tents were still closed. She crawled out and stood to brush the pine needles off of her skirt.

  A few hundred yards away, a branch snapped. She spun toward the sound. For a second, she contemplated waking Andy up, but she couldn’t rely on her brother to save her from everything in life. He’d be in another country soon and she’d be on her own again. She had to take care of herself from here on out.

  She inched closer to the edge of the clearing and peered into the inky night. With only starlight to illuminate the trees, she could hardly make out the shape of anything. But something moved in the murky shadows. Something big.

  Chapter 2

  Greg hid behind a thick pine tree as he strained to hear the hippies’ conversation. Last night, when he’d been in his bear form, he’d been out strolling through the woods when he’d run into a stunning woman. He hadn’t been able to see her very well in the darkness. But now, in the pale morning light, her flowing golden-brown hair glistened as it swished across her curvy butt. High cheekbones and full lips made her even more beautiful.

  “It was a huge bear,” the sexy woman said as she wove wildflowers together to form a crown. “It had to be half as tall as the trees.”

  “I don’t think bears get that big,” a man responded.

  His short, military-style haircut contrasted with a pair of torn jeans and a flowing Indian-style shirt. A second man crawled out of a separate tent. His long, stringy hair hung over his bare chest and beer belly. He scratched his back while his mate scrambled out to join him. Her long black hair hung in a loose braid down her back. They interlaced their fingers.

  “Hey Andy, can’t we take a dip in the lake before we go?” the second woman asked the man with the short hair.

  “We should get on the road soon,” Andy said.

  “Come on, just a quick swim?” the woman begged.

  “We need to leave,” the first woman said. “Who knows when that farmer’s going to show up to shoot at us?”

  Greg frowned and shifted from one foot to the other. How did they know about his family? He picked up his shotgun which had been leaning against the tree. Although he liked looking at the curvy woman, he had to get rid of them before his dad found them squatting on his property.

  He took a deep breath and checked to make sure they didn’t have any weapons. So far, he hadn’t seen anything to indicate that they would give him any problems. He’d shoo them off the land and be done with it.

  As he stepped out from behind the tree, he stuck his chest out and took on the mantle of authority that he’d learned to from his father. The Grant men didn’t put up with free-loving thieves. The sooner he got them off his property, the faster he’d be able to get back to his morning chores.

  “Hey,” he yelled as he approached. “You’re on my land.”

  “Oh shit,” Long Hair Guy said as he pushed his mate behind him. The girl’s eyes went wide as she hid behind him.

  “We were just leaving,” Andy said. “We don’t mean any harm.”

  “Hurry up.” Greg pointed the shotgun at him.

  The sexy, goddess of a woman stood and walked straight over to him. She held the stem of a white daisy between her thumb and forefinger. As she drew closer, he couldn’t take his eyes off her petal-soft skin. The edge of her flowing shirt slipped off one shoulder to expose flawless, creamy skin. He stood speechless as she pushed the end of the flower into the barrel of his gun.

  “Make love, not war,” she murmured.

  He struggled to focus on anything but her lake-blue eyes. He swallowed and pointed the weapon at the earth. The daisy slipped out and landed in the dirt. His abs clenched as fire rolled through his body. His bear inhaled her scent and did a somersault in his chest. The creature wanted her with a passion fierce enough to steal his breath.

  “You have to leave,” he choked.

  “Chill out, man,” the long-haired man said.

  Greg grabbed up the gun and took a step back. He was outnumbered. If they wanted to jump him, he could probably take them, but then he’d be even later for his chores.

  A whistle pierced the air.

  “Ah, hell,” Greg said, recognizing his father’s pissed-off pitch. “I have to get back to the farm. But you’d better be gone before my old man comes down this way. He shoots first and asks questions later.”

  “We’ll be gone,” the girl with the flower said.

  He turned to leave but stopped. He couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t find out one very important thing.

  “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “Daisy.”

  “Like the flower?”

  “Yeah.”

  Her slow smile sent tendrils of desire racing through his body. Already semi-hard
, he quickly retreated before she could see his obvious erection. As he raced back to the farm, he braced himself. His father would be pissed that he hadn’t finished mucking out the horse stalls yet.

  Greg dashed into the huge red barn. He set the shotgun against the wall and grabbed a pitchfork. Halfway to the first stall, his father’s booming voice cracked like thunder.

  “Where have you been?”

  “Out by the lake. Um, I thought I saw some people.” He knew better than to lie to his old man, but he didn’t want him running off half-cocked with the gun.

  “Humph,” he grunted. “Did you see anyone?”

  “No. The sound must have been coming from across the lake,” Greg said.

  “Damn campground. It’s bad enough we have to deal with the ones on this side of the lake. Well hurry up, your mom needs help with mopping the floors.”

  “Where’s Samantha?” Greg asked.

  “Your sister’s hemming some pants for me and sewing a dress for your mom,” he said.

  “All right. Can you tell her I’ll be there in a few minutes?”

  “Sure,” his dad said. He turned to leave but stopped just outside the door. He took a couple of steps back in. “Son?”

  “Yeah?” Greg looked up from the pile of manure he’d just scooped up.

  “I know there’s a lot of work. What with your brothers off at war.”

  “And college,” Greg said.

  “And college,” he nodded. “Anyway, I appreciate you picking up the extra load.”

  “We’re all working hard around here,” Greg said. His father rarely gave anyone a compliment, so it meant even more when he did.

  “I’ll make sure your brother comes out to help you this afternoon when he gets home from school.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “I wish your brothers would come back from ‘Nam,” his dad said. “But they’re doing a dammed good job fighting for their country. You boys all turned out right. Now if I could just get Aaron to shape up.”

  “He’s still in high school, he’s got time,” Greg said.

  “He’s almost a man so he needs to start acting like one. I don’t want him bringing home another hippie girl. That last one about gave your mom a heart attack.”

  Greg knew better than to argue with him, so he kept his mouth shut. His mom had liked Sunshine, Aaron’s last girlfriend, but she couldn’t tell his dad that without risking getting popped. Everyone in the family knew better than to challenge his authority, especially Greg. He’d watched his father tear down Greg’s younger brother Peter. By the time the kid had gone off to war, he’d confessed that it had felt like a blessing rather than a curse.

  But after being over there for a year, did Peter still hold that belief? Greg sighed. He’d have to ask him the next time he sent a letter. Greg frowned. When was the last time they’d received mail from him?

  “Hey, Dad,” he called. “Want me to go into town later and check the mail?”

  “Aaron’s got the key. He’s supposed to stop on his way home.”

  “It’s been a while since we’ve heard from Peter,” Greg said.

  “True,” his dad scowled. “That boy needs to write more often. Betty was asking about him earlier. I told her that she’d probably get a letter from him soon, but I’ll set him straight. He shouldn’t be making his mom worry like that.”

  After his dad stomped off, Greg leaned against the side of the stall. He couldn’t show weakness—it wasn’t tolerated—but he worried about Peter constantly. Every night, Greg watched the news in hopes that he’d catch a glimpse of one of his brothers. Frank and Luke were also fighting for their country, but they could take care of themselves. Hell, Luke could take on Muhammad Ali and win. Frank could hold his own too, but Peter? Not so much.

  Greg gripped the pitchfork and jammed it under a pile of soiled hay. His father never should have let Peter join the Marines. He had to know that his second-youngest son wasn’t fit for war. He belonged on the farm. They could have used the farmer’s exemption to avoid sending him to ‘Nam but his father wouldn’t hear of it. Greg’s belly clenched. Someday his dad’s stubbornness was going to backfire on him.

  As he continued mucking the stalls, his mind drifted back to Daisy. She’d been an absolute vision in that long pink skirt and loose shirt. She clearly didn’t wear a bra and he couldn’t stop fantasizing about reaching under her shirt to stroke her supple flesh.

  He mashed his lips together and shook the tension out of his body. He’d go check to make sure they were gone later this afternoon. They’d be stupid to stay, but they were hippies, so their word didn’t mean much.

  Hours later after he’d finished all of his chores, he snuck back to the barn to get his shotgun. After grabbing it, he paused at the entrance. If his dad saw him heading into the forest with the weapon, he’d follow. Greg couldn’t take that chance.

  When he was sure that his old man wasn’t around, Greg sprinted across the field toward the forest. He turned to check behind him, but didn’t see any movement. So far, so good.

  He hurried through the forest, jumping over fallen logs and racing around dense patches of pine saplings. His bear leapt for joy until he realized Greg wasn’t going to let him out to run. In a snarling rush of claws, his bear fought to be released. Greg pounded his fist against his chest.

  Stop it, bear.

  The creature chuffed and snarled but settled down. He resumed his hurried pace until he reached the edge of the clearing where the hippies had set up camp. To his dismay, three tents still sat where they’d been the previous day. He spotted a VW bus decorated with a ridiculous sun and moon hidden behind a clump of juniper bushes.

  Dammit. Why were they still here?

  The sound of laughter and splashing drew him to the edge of the forest. Sunlight glared off the rippling water. He brought his hand to his eyes and squinted. What he saw took his breath away.

  Standing waist-deep in the lake, Daisy splashed her friends. As she giggled and jumped up and down, her perfect, creamy breasts bounced enticingly. His hand trembled as he laid the gun against the tree trunk. With one arm propped against the ragged bark, he leaned forward to get a better look.

  She dove under the surface. Several seconds passed. He stopped breathing and didn’t release his pent-up anxiety until she reappeared. Rivulets of sparkling liquid cascaded down her breasts, running over their rosy tips.

  As she waded closer to the shore, his heart kicked in his chest. Blood rushed in to make him harder than he’d ever been in his life. His entire body ached with desire. When she reached up to tie her hair into a bun, her perky breasts jutted out. He wanted to die on the spot. For a second, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d made love to a woman. Then it all came back as a rush of sadness that stole his strength.

  Lori, the girl who’d broken his heart four years ago, invaded his consciousness. He turned his back on Daisy and slammed it against the tree. As he bent at the waist, he braced himself with his hands on his knees. He’d never been with anyone but Lori.

  They’d met in their senior year of high school. When her family had moved away, she’d promised to write to him. She swore that the day she graduated, she’d run away and come back for him. She never did. Not a phone call, not a letter, nothing. Nothing ever came.

  He stood and swiped moisture from his eyes. After sniffing a few times, he knew he would never forget what Lori had done to him. Although it had been four years since he’d last spoken to her, he wasn’t ready to even consider dating anyone again, let alone a flighty hippie girl. He didn’t know anything about Daisy. She could be just as bad as Lori. It would be best to just get rid of her and her friends so he could return to his quiet life on the farm.

  When he turned back to the lake, Daisy’s radiant smile melted the hardness in his heart. She walked out of the water like a Grecian goddess. Every inch of her perfection glittered in the sunlight.

  “Come play with us,” she called.

  He jerked back. How lo
ng had she known that he’d been standing there? Without thinking, he grabbed his gun, whipped around, and ran into the forest. He wasn’t totally sure why he’d completely panicked, but he didn’t stop running until he was out of breath. His bear jumped and kicked and flailed in an attempt at freedom. Greg didn’t have the mental strength to fight the creature anymore.

  Mid-stride, his bear burst free. He tripped and fell face first into the ground as the muscles along his back tore. His bones snapped and grew to form a thick, rigid spine. His nose elongated into a snout. Sharp teeth pushed against his gums and equally lethal claws jutted out from his fingers. Fur sprouted from his skin as his hands and feet morphed into paws.

  When the shift completed, he stood on all fours and roared loud enough to scare a flock of mountain bluebirds. The vibrant birds flapped furiously as they whooshed up through the trees. He scampered after the stragglers but they escaped into flight just before he could reach them.

  Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned to find a curious chipmunk with overstuffed cheeks watching him. He stalked toward it. The frustration of seeing Daisy so totally naked and knowing that she was completely off-limits bore a hole through his chest. He didn’t make chasing small animals a habit, but it worked to quell some of his feral instinct.

  He bounded after the chipmunk, which bolted across a log and scrambled up the closest tree. It raced up to a branch well out of his reach, then turned to watch him with wide eyes. He brushed his body against the base of the tree in annoyance. He wasn’t going to eat the dammed thing. He just wanted to play with it. Apparently the chipmunk knew better.

  As he lumbered through the forest, he tried all of his usual techniques for dispelling his bear’s energy. Nothing worked. An hour later, he was just as worked up as he’d been when he’d spotted Daisy in the lake.

  Chapter 3