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Truth be told, no matter how well-restrained I kept my bear, connecting with the outdoors was as ingrained in me as breathing. Well, I supposed a nature-versus-nurture debate could be had about that, because my parents were all about camping under trees. In their sixties, they still didn’t own a home, preferring to live out of tents when they did their work for the Nature Conservancy, tracking and saving endangered species. Last time we spoke, my father said something about buying a small RV. I’d believe it when I saw it.

After rolling my sleeping bags up and stashing them in the corner of my truck bed, I yanked on my boots and climbed out. My phone rang, so I grabbed it and took the call as I walked to the nearest tree.

“’Lo,” I said, my voice scratchy with sleep and lack of overnight use.

“Hey, Robert, it’s me,” Kathleen Porter, my sort of work partner said.

“Sort of” meaning that though we were technically assigned to work together, that wasn’t literal as far as locales. The stated goal was that we were supposed to bounce ideas off one another and keep each other informed of our progress. We suspected it had more to do with an attempt to make sure someone would figure it out if one of us was lying dead in a ditch somewhere. With the infrequency of our calls to people at the office, our bodies could be decimated carcasses by the time our absences were noticed.

“Morning.” My bladder was making itself known with a sharp insistence, so phone call or no phone call, I needed relief. I lowered my zipper, fished out my dick, and let go. “Ahhh,” I sighed.

“What’re you doing?”

“Taking a leak,” I answered honestly.

“Oh,” she said, completely unperturbed. “Melinda dumped me.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“What happened?” I asked as I shook off the last few drops.

“She said I didn’t pay her enough attention.”

Kathleen’s work hours and travel schedule were like mine, which meant she saw her girlfriend a couple of weekends a month, if she was lucky. I saw the woman’s point.

“I don’t understand it,” Kathleen said, sounding frustrated. “I sprained my tongue last night. How is that not paying her enough attention?”

“Maybe she didn’t mean in bed,” I suggested as I tucked myself in and zipped up.

“Well, that’s crap.” I heard a beeping sound indicating Kathleen’s truck door was being unlocked, then a slam before the engine started up and the radio crooned in the background.

“Where are you this early in the morning?” The sun was barely up.

“I had to stop at the convenience store to get coffee. Melinda tossed me out before I could fill my travel mug.” I heard her sip and grunt unhappily.

“How’s it taste?”

“Like loss and heartache.” She paused and then laughed. “Seriously, though. She knew what I did when we got together.” I heard her sip again. “I spent four years in undergrad and another five getting my PhD from Columbia. I’m not going to toss all that out just because Melinda has too much free time and gets bored. She should get a real job.”

“She’s a preschool teacher, isn’t she?” I walked back to my truck. “Or was that the last one?”

“Nah, that’s her. But come on, Robert”—another sip and another disgusted grunt—“she finger-paints for a living. How is that work?”

“Are you sure her issue was your hours and not your attitude?”

“What do you mean?”

I shook my head. “Never mind.”

“I bet she met somebody else.”

It was possible, but not likely. A weekend or two every month wasn’t exactly good for a relationship. For me, it didn’t matter because I affirmatively didn’t want to settle down, but Kathleen claimed to be searching for something long-term. Not that her track record or behavior would have made that apparent. Either way, I didn’t see Melinda cheating.

“I met Melinda a couple of times. She didn’t seem like the tomcatting kind.” I paused. “Wait, does that term apply to you?” I shook my head, rustled through my duffel bag, and pulled out a clean shirt. “Whatever. The point is, I think you’re projecting.”

She started choking on her loneliness brew. “I’m loyal!” she said, sounding affronted. And then she quietly added, “On and off.”

“Come on, Kat, you have a girl at every port.”

“I do not.”

“What about that time we met up in Flagstaff and you brought that woman to dinner?” I stopped to think. “Julia? Or Julie, maybe? Don’t tell me you weren’t sleeping with her.”

“That’s different. We’ve known each other for years, so when I’m there for work, I stay with her.”

I shrugged but didn’t bother answering. It wasn’t my business.

“She has hot food and running water.”

Again, not a word from me. Who was I to judge? I fucked guys in bars, cars, and alleys. I rarely asked their names, never asked for their numbers, and didn’t have a thought about seeing them again.

Except for the man I’d been with the previous night. Vytautas Aleknos. Vy. With the blond hair and the green eyes that turned gold before I kissed him. Him, I wanted to see again with a passion that scared me.

“It’d be rude to stay at her place and not… you know.”

Clearly, Kathleen was upset. I needed to focus and be supportive. “Sprain your tongue?” I offered.

“Screw you, Robert.”

I chuckled. “Come on, Kat. You know I ain’t judging. I’m only pointing out that maybe you’re not as loyal as you say, and that’s why you think Melinda’s been up to something. Maybe she really did break up with you because of your work schedule.”

“Whatever. I’m over it.” She took a drink and then sighed sadly. “But I will miss her coffee.”

C
ARRYING
A
tray full of water samples packaged in specially manufactured Styrofoam and secured in a corrugated box, I walked into the local post office slash bakery slash gift shop. A long glass counter took up the entire left side of the building. It was filled with delicious-looking pastries. Unlike other bakeries I’d been to, the glass doors on this one faced the customers. I licked my lips and felt my stomach rumble.

“We don’t want any trouble.”

I was used to small towns, but the charm of the odd people in this one still amused me.

“I don’t want any trouble either,” I said as I turned around and smiled at the gray-haired man behind the cash register. “I was thinking about trying a donut, though. Are they fresh?”

“’Course they’re fresh.” He glared at me. “I made them this morning. What kind of place do you think I’m running here?”

As I walked over to him to hand off my box, I dipped my face so he wouldn’t see me chuckling. It wouldn’t do any good for the guy to think I was laughing at him. It wasn’t until I had the package on the counter that I noticed him trembling.

“Are you all right?” I asked, snapping my head up.

“What’s that?” He pointed at the box. Well, I supposed that meant he wasn’t injured. Maybe he was just eccentric.

“Water samples. I need to get them shipped off to the EPA field office.” I tapped on the preprinted address on the top of the box. “Overnight, please.”

“Why?” he asked suspiciously as he leaned forward to look at the box without moving his feet from their position against the wall. I noticed he was clutching a telephone.

“What do you mean?”

“Are you one of those antigovernment types?”

His odd charm was starting to cross over into disconcerting.

“Uh, no.”

“Well, then, why you want to go off and blow ’em up? Those people haven’t done nothing to you.”

I had no idea what we were talking about. I also wasn’t sure if I could trust him to mail the package. “I’ll go ahead and take this,” I said as I reached for my box. “I, uh, think I forgot to add something.” Like a sane courier. There was a post office in the next town over. It was a thirty-mile drive, but it’d be worth it. If I lost those samples, I’d have to start my work in Elk River all over.

That thought made my heart warm and my chest growl. Starting over would mean another couple of weeks with Vy. The rational part of my brain told me I needed to run, that staying longer would only strengthen my unhealthy and foolhardy attachment. The rest of me told that part to shut up and sit down.

“I… I… I’ll mail it for you,” the man stuttered, sounding petrified.

Quickly, I glanced around the room to see what had upset him. Nothing seemed out of place and nobody else had come in. I furrowed my brow in confusion. Was he scared of
me
?

“You don’t need to growl at me. I’ll mail it. I don’t want any trouble.”

Taking a deep breath, I internally cursed my size and hunched down. “I’m not aiming to cause trouble, sir. And the growl wasn’t aimed at you.” It wasn’t even an aggressive sound. If he’d been another bear, he’d have recognized the low grumble for the happy, relaxed emotion it conveyed. I’d been thinking of Vy when I subconsciously made the sound, but it seemed that to a bird it was frightening. Yet another reason spending more time with Vy was bound to end in disaster.

I picked up my box and stepped away. The man’s shoulders relaxed. I hated that I’d been the cause of his tension. Unable to leave him feeling afraid of me, I tried to make up for the damage I’d inadvertently caused.

“Unless buying out all your honey-glazed donuts would be a problem,” I said with a grin.

“He… help yourself.” He raised his hand and pointed at the glass case. “It’s on the house.”

Shaking my head, I propped the box against the counter and reached into my pocket. “That won’t be—”

“What’re you doing?” he screeched and held up his phone. “I’ll call the police!”

I held up my wallet. “I was just getting some money out.”

“Oh.” He lowered his hand. “I thought you were getting a gun.”

I jerked back. “A gun? Why would I have a gun?”

“I suppose you wouldn’t.” He ran his gaze up and down my body. “After all, you’re big enough to throw a van off a cliff.”

Was that the issue?

“I didn’t push the van off the cliff,” I explained, trying to stay calm. “It fell.”

His narrowed eyes and furrowed brow told me he didn’t believe me.

“I didn’t even get there until it was already slipping,” I said, trying to prove the truthfulness of my statement.

“Uh-huh.”

I should have left. And not just that store. I should have left the entire town. If I worked all the way through, I could probably finish up what had to be done in a matter of days. I could survive that long with the supplies in my truck. Then I could get on the highway and find a motel in another town to get cleaned up before heading to the next job.

“Look, you can ask Vy, all right?” I said instead of leaving. I had no idea why. Not wanting people to be scared of me was one thing, but defending myself when I’d done nothing wrong to someone I’d never see again was something else entirely. And yet, I couldn’t seem to stop. “Or the kids who were there. Chris and Jodie and, uh, Brodie. Ask them.”

“I already heard from the kids.” He paused. “Well, I heard from Erma, who heard from her neighbor Pat, who heard from Steve the butcher, who heard from his son whose friend was across the street at the time that you shoved the van off the cliff.”

Truly, I needed to leave. I knew that. When people made up their minds about me being a danger, I rarely got them to change their minds. Oh, I’d tried over the years, and I had some tricks up my sleeves—smiling, slouching, using a respectful tone—but when those things didn’t work, staying around tended to make folks more upset, not less.

And yet, I had trouble walking away. The idea that a member of Vy’s ket, which he cared about greatly, would think ill of me didn’t sit right. It wasn’t this man’s opinion I cared about, I suddenly realized—it was Vy’s.

My appetite for donuts and conversation gone, I turned on my heel and walked out the door without another word. Maybe the drive out of town would do me good. Clearly, I had lost my mind.

“C
OME
IN
!”
Vy shouted from inside his house.

I frowned. What was the point of a peephole if you weren’t going to use it? And in that case, how about at least asking who was at the door before letting them in. Or locking the door. How about locking it?

“It’s me,” I said as I walked in. A quick glance around the room showed me he wasn’t interested enough about who he had invited in to so much as come near the door, let alone answer it. “Vy?”

“I’m in the kitchen.”

I loved his kitchen. Made out of bits and pieces Vy told me he’d pulled out of houses being remodeled or otherwise found at jobsites, it was a combination of mismatched wood cabinets painted in different colors and industrial metal tables wedged side by side in a U-shaped pattern. The sink was a huge farmhouse style, and it was right in front of a large window overlooking his backyard. Instead of upper cabinets, he had rows of shelves made from what looked to be trees sliced in half with the bark still on them, giving them a rustic aesthetic. Bowls and cups were stacked on the shelves in a haphazard fashion, and because none of them were the same, the whole arrangement was a mix of bright colors. In the center of the room, he had a long, narrow wood table, grooved by age, surrounded by a collection of chairs in various styles and colors.

Like the rest of Vy’s home, it was warm and inviting, and it had made me feel comfortable right off the bat. When I’d been at his house the evening before, I hadn’t wanted to leave the kitchen. But of course I’d left, because Vy was on the couch wanting to be touched and that took priority over any kitchen, even one as cozy as his.

“What are you doing?” I asked when I saw that he wasn’t elbow-deep in something drippy that couldn’t have been cleaned up fast enough to check who was at his door.

“Drinking.” He reached for a vodka bottle on the counter, filled up the glass he was holding, and then slammed it back, swallowing all the liquor in one shot.

“Uh.” I considered what to say. “Bad day?”

Mine hadn’t been super either, but my mood had improved considerably once I’d reminded myself that what one guy thought about me didn’t mean squat, ket member or not. Hearing Vy’s voice when I called to ask him to dinner helped too. He had sounded happy and horny, a perfect combination as far as I was concerned. So perfect, in fact, that I’d quickly changed my “Where’s good around here?” to “How about I come over and cook?”