Chapter Twenty: Martha

Chapter Twenty – Martha

Martha stretched out in bed. Her body ached in places it had never ached before. Her bear shifter certainly knew how to please a woman.

She reached out to touch his shoulder, as she had many times in the night, just to check he was real and not a figment of her imagination.

The sheets were cool. Clint had gone.

She sat up and clutched the sheets to her chest, feeling very naked in the strange house since her clothes were downstairs in the kitchen where she’d left them.

Her cheeks flamed pink at the memory of Clint carrying her into this bedroom and making love to her again, right here in his bed.

His hands had been so sure, as if he’d known exactly what she needed and wanted. His touch had sent sparks through her body that left her trembling and wanting more.

She remembered how his lips had moved across hers, kissing her with an urgency that made her gasp in pleasure. She felt a warmth within her that seemed to grow with each kiss until it had become like a fire raging inside of her.

His hands had mapped every inch of her body, exploring and caressing, leaving behind trails of desire that made it hard for Martha to think straight.

The way Clint touched her was something she would never forget; his fingers were gentle yet firm, eliciting sensations from deep within Martha that ignited a passion she didn’t know existed in herself.

He’d moved above her, his eyes glowing as if he wanted to consume her completely, and then he’d entered inside of her with such intensity that Martha’s breath had caught in her throat.

Clint had taken her higher and higher, each thrust more powerful than the last, until they’d both reached a climax that left Martha feeling like she was floating on a cloud of bliss.

She lay back against the pillows, still feeling the afterglow of their lovemaking as it lingered in her body after several hours had passed. As she closed her eyes, she could still hear his voice, low and husky with desire, as he whispered words of adoration into her ear.

“Martha.” Her eyes flew open as Clint’s voice sounded from the edge of the bed.

“Clint.” She cupped her face in her hands as heat flared across her skin.

“I made breakfast.” He sat on the edge of the bed and leaned closer. “I was going to bring you a tray so you could eat in bed.” His gaze slid toward the door. “But Freddy is up, and I figured we should make a plan of action.”

Martha nodded and swung her legs off the side of the bed. “Did you call Brad, or is it too early?” She squinted against the sunlight and realized she did not know what time it was.

“I called him.” Clint got up from the bed and headed to the chair, fetching her clothes. “He said he’d make some inquiries, but he needs to be subtle.”

“So that he doesn’t draw attention.” Martha nodded and began to dress. “Has Freddy said anymore?”

“Not really.” Clint watched as she dressed in the clothes she had worn last night, something she had never done before. She slid her feet into her slacks and then pulled on her sweater, feeling the fabric against her skin like a warm embrace. The smell of Clint still lingered on the clothes, making Martha’s heart skip a beat as his scent enveloped her. She thought about showering, but dealing with Freddy was more important, and she quickly tied her hair back into a bun before going downstairs to face him.

“Perhaps he needs time to learn that he can trust us,” she said.

Clint held out his arms to her, and she went to him. He cradled her against his chest as he lowered his head and captured her lips in a sweet kiss that made her want to tumble back into bed with him.

“Coffee’s hot,” Clint announced when their kiss finally broke.

“Good, I need a pick-me-up.” She headed for the door, and Clint followed. “I can read your thoughts.”

“I hoped you could,” Clint teased as they went downstairs.

When she reached the kitchen, Freddy was sitting at the table, eating breakfast as if he didn’t know where his next meal was coming from.

Clint pulled out the chair next to Freddy and Martha sat down. He took a plate from the counter and filled it with eggs, bacon, toast, and sausages. Then he added more food to Freddy’s plate. “Eat up, you’re a growing boy.”

Freddy looked up at Clint with an incredulous expression on his face. “I’m not a boy,” he said with a hint of irritation in his voice.

“I apologize,” Clint said. “When you get to my age, everyone is a kid.” He sat down and picked up his fork. Martha could tell he was trying hard not to laugh as he took a bite of his breakfast.

“Are we going to get more snow?” Martha asked.

“It’s not forecasted,” Clint replied, and sucked in a deep breath. “And it doesn’t smell like snow.”

“You can tell even from in here?” Martha asked, making small talk with Clint as they ate, both of them giving Freddy time to relax before talking about the disturbing events that had led him home to the shack in Bear Creek.

Freddy watched them for a while before he set his fork down and reached for his orange juice. He paused for a moment and looked from Martha to Clint before finally speaking.

“Okay. Out with it,” Freddy said, his voice steady but wary.

Clint nodded and set his fork down on the plate, the sound echoing in the silence that had fallen between them. “We want to help you,” he said firmly. His gaze was steady as he looked at Freddy, willing him to understand that they were telling the truth. “But you’re going to need to tell us everything.”

“Everything... That’s a lot of ground to cover.” Freddy’s eyes were cast downward, and he hesitated before slowly raising his head, finally letting out a long sigh of relief, as if a weight had been lifted off of him.

Martha leaned over the small kitchen table, her eyes filled with understanding. She brushed her fingers across the back of his hand for a moment and gave it a gentle squeeze, letting him know that whatever he was going through, everything would be okay. “Why don’t we start at the beginning?”

Freddy picked up his fork and waved it over his plate, his face deadpan as he said, “Well, I was born.”

Clint choked on his coffee, and Martha burst into laughter. Freddy’s face broke into a huge grin as he watched them, and Martha realized he used humor as a barrier to protect himself from getting hurt. She’d seen it plenty of times before with clients who had unresolved trauma in their lives.

“Maybe you could start with something we don’t know,” she suggested and smiled back at him, relieved to see the hint of a smile on his face for the first time since he had arrived.

“I think I covered most of it last night,” Freddy went on. “I lived in the shack. My parents died. My aunt sold my home to use the money to raise me but spent it on liquor...” His eyes misted over as they became unfocused, as if he was staring into his past.

He was struggling to keep his emotions in check, and Martha wished there was something she could say or do to make this all better. Just like a parent should.

But instead of a parent, Freddy had ended up with an indifferent aunt. The lawyer in Martha wished a judge could hold his aunt accountable for the way she treated her nephew. How could she be so unfeeling? She’d taken in a vulnerable child who was mourning his parents and stripped him of everything—even his father’s compass.

“And then you shifted?” Clint prompted.

“I’d felt something building up inside of me for weeks. Then it just kinda happened.” His voice cracked, and he looked away, unable to hide the anguish in his eyes.

Martha’s heart ached for him. How scary it must have been for him to shift for the first time, with no clue as to what was happening. She imagined the sudden sensation of the world around him fading away, the fear of not knowing what was happening, and feeling completely out of control. And then she thought about all the times he’d shifted since then, having no one there to help him make sense of it.

She reached out and placed her hand over his, a gesture of comfort that she hoped he could feel through the layers of hurt and confusion he must have been feeling. “It must have been scary,” she whispered, her voice low and warm.

Freddy looked up and gave her a small, sad smile. “Yeah,” he said simply, and Martha’s heart filled with compassion for him. “But then, suddenly, for the first time, I wasn’t alone.”

“You had your bear,” Clint said in a hushed voice.

“You could hear him and he could hear you.” Martha’s bottom lip trembled, but she forced herself to swallow down her tears.

“Is that your phone ringing?” Clint asked.

“My what?” Martha stared at him uncomprehendingly for a moment and then abruptly got up from her chair. “It is my phone.” She patted her pockets, but her phone was nowhere to be found.

“It must be in your purse,” Clint said. “I took it upstairs with your clothes this morning.”

Freddy smacked his lips and nodded, a knowing smirk on his face.

“Upstairs.” Martha left the kitchen and dashed upstairs before she missed the call.

When she saw her dad’s name on the screen, her stomach dropped. Taking a deep breath, she answered the call and tried to steady her voice. “Hi, Dad.”

“Martha.” His voice sounded strained and tight, like he had been holding back tears. “I just wanted to call and say...that I’m sorry.”

Martha was taken aback. She’d expected her dad to be full of criticism and disappointment, but instead, he sounded so broken.

“Dad, is everything all right?” Panic bloomed in her heart. It was so unlike her father to express his emotions so openly and she couldn’t recall the last time she’d heard him admit to being wrong about anything.

“I never wanted you to leave,” he continued, his voice shaking slightly. “It’s just...it’s hard when your own daughter decides to walk away from everything she’s worked so hard for.”

She understood now why her father had been so hard on her about leaving. He hadn’t been trying to control her, he had simply been scared of losing her. Tears welled up in Martha’s eyes as she realized her father had been struggling just as much as she had.

“I’m sorry, too,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “I never wanted us to fall out over it.”

“I know,” he mumbled. “I can be a pigheaded fool. And I’m proud of you for following your heart.”

“You are?” Martha smiled and felt a weight lift off her shoulders. She hadn’t realized how much she wanted her dad’s approval until, finally, he was ready to give it to her.

“So... how are things?” he asked after a moment of silence. Martha opened her mouth to speak, but there was no way she could explain how she’d met a man she planned to spend the rest of her life with, found a property she wanted to buy and rebuild, and found a young man who needed her help, all in one day.

It sounded unbelievable, even to her.

“It’s beautiful here,” Martha told him. “Maybe one day soon you can visit?”

“I’d like that.” He paused. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too, Dad.” Tears pricked her eyes. But she steeled her heart and refused to give in to the wave of emotion. She didn’t want her father to think that she had any regrets about her decision to move here.

Then Freddy’s words echoed in the back of her head: “But then suddenly, for the first time, I wasn’t alone.”

Martha was blessed. She’d never been alone, she’d always had her mom and dad. Even now, although there were hundreds of miles between them, they were still a part of her life.

All she’d ever had to do was pick up the phone and call and they would be by her side as fast as humanly possible.