Polar Heat Read online

  Stunned at being included in such a private memory, Russ withdrew… or he tried to. The dream seemed to hold him fast, to prevent him from withdrawing, something he'd never experienced before.

  The scene shifted, pulling him with it. A streak of brown and maroon sped past him and suddenly Russ found himself standing in the strangest place. It looked like an ice cave, but one completely devoid of texture, each block perfectly smooth with only the faintest indication of seams. The room had enough height for him to stand, but his head brushed the ceiling. Uncomfortable at the tight, clutching space, he scanned for a door, but found none. He was trapped inside a white ice bubble. Russell's polar bear roared in frustration.

  A soft answering sound drew his attention to his feet. Riley crouched on the frozen floor in front of him, her knees drawn up to her chest. Her face, in this dream world, had only half the attractiveness of reality. She looked plain, washed-out and tired, and the stink of fear obscured her enticing natural feminine scent.

  “Why are we here?” he asked her. “What is this place?”

  “You invited yourself in,” she replied. “I don't know what this is. Maybe you can tell me.”

  “It looks like a prison,” he said. “Feels like one too. Are you trapped here, Riley?”

  She nodded. “I don't know how to get out. I spend most nights stuck between the past and this igloo, and I don't know how to break free. It's wearing me out, Russ; I never rest. But why are you here?”

  “You drew me,” he replied.

  “No,” she insisted. “You sought me out. I heard your voice calling me through the ice. You wanted to come.”

  “Yes,” he agreed. “Because you drew me. From the moment I saw you, I knew.”

  “What did you know?” she asked. “What are you?”

  He laughed, low and dry and without humor. “You are not ready for either answer.”

  She lowered her head. “After that roar, I'm sure that's true. I know you're not human. Maybe that's enough for now.”

  “I'm not,” he agreed, “and yet I am. If you can accept so much already, it's certainly enough for now. We have time, Riley. Time together in my airplane. We can talk and find out if and when you're ready to know more. But I want you to know one thing. No matter what, when you're with me, you're safe.”

  “I'm never safe,” she replied, her voice dark and sad, her eyes glued to the floor. “Never.”

  “Riley,” he rumbled as the bear wrestled for control of him.

  She lifted her face and those intoxicating eyes captured him. “I believe I'm safe from you, Russ. That you wouldn't hurt me, at least. My heart tells me as much. But out there…” she waved her arm at the smooth walls of the igloo.

  Russ reached out one paw, cursing at the sight of his nails, no longer the blunt, square human shape. Long, curved claws tipped each thick finger. Her eyes widened and she gulped. Time, Tadzea. You must give the human time.

  Something tugged on his consciousness. Heat. Heat enough to melt the ice around them, and yet it remained solidly frozen.

  “Morning comes,” he informed the cowering girl. “I can feel the sunlight. If I come to you again, will you let me share your dreams?”

  “I will,” she replied. “This prison is so lonely. It would help to share it.”

  “Then I will come again, Riley.”

  She nodded.

  The heat grew, drawing Russ out of Riley's igloo. He opened his eyes and was still a bear, lying in a clearing near his remote cabin. Even the chilly Alaskan morning felt hot under his thick white pelt. He lived too far south for his own comfort, except in winter. But he took the sun stoically, knowing the snow was on its way.

  I wonder how Riley will react to the cold… I wonder if she'll remember the dream.

  Russell had no answers, except that he would feel more comfortable without fur. Shifting back into his human form, he returned home, creeping through the trees in his yard to avoid being seen naked by his only neighbor, who was picking the last of the squashes from a luxurious vine. He barely managed to slip through the door and draw the curtains shut. Then, secure in his privacy, he stretched. Though much smaller as a man than a bear, at his full height, his extended hands brushed the ceiling beams of his cabin. He looked upward into the rafters, enjoying the sight of the raw arched wood above. His copper skin looked pale against the darkness, and thick muscle curved from every limb. There's a lot me, he thought, his eyes drawing down to the sculpted curves of his chest and abs, his bulging thighs. His sex, erect from sleep and from his dreamtime encounter with Riley, stood thick and strong from the silver curls at his groin. I wonder what Riley would think of this. Grinning Russ headed into the bathroom to take a shower.

  * * *

  The house seemed to have been carved into a low hillside, though the hill itself was manmade. Grass covered the earthen roof and only a set of four rough-hewn pillars, set in close pairs on either side of the door, supported a tiny awning. Russell knocked once and then opened. A small room with a roaring fire invited him into pleasant warmth. A pair of leather armchairs supported a set of men. One, ancient and dressed in dyed-red caribou hide, toyed with a necklace of red and white bone shells. His copper-colored faced had been deeply grooved with age, and yet it retained a look of power and authority. He twined the beads in his gnarled fingers as he regarded Russell, and the nearly black pigment of his eyes had leaked into the white, leaving irregular brown spots.

  “Father,” Russell said in a quiet, respectful voice. “Randy.”

  He turned to greet his brother. Like him, Randy looked younger than he was. His sixty years rested lightly on his unlined face, though all three men had matching white hair.

  “Son, welcome. It has been too long since you visited,” his father intoned in his slow, careful voice.

  Russell bowed his head, acknowledging the words. “A new school year is beginning. I was needed at many planning meetings. I came as soon as I could.”

  “Very good,” his father replied. “You have always been dutiful, son. Please, won't you sit? I sense you wish to ask me something.”

  Russell sank to the brilliantly colored handwoven rug before the fire. “Yes, Father. I… how… I mean…” suddenly his words abandoned him.

  Both of the other men crimped the corners of their mouths. Russell remembered the lessons of his youth. Words are sacred. Do not waste them. Take the time to consider your words before they leave your lips. Russell took a long moment to think. Silence was nothing to be feared among his father's people. At last he spoke. “I think I may have met my mate, but I'm not certain.”

  His brother's eyes widened. Though Randy came from the same parents as Russell, his life had been more human, and he'd had a wife long since. Children. Even grandchildren.

  “Perhaps this is good,” his father said. “I do not know. I see you seek answers, but I cannot give them. You are very much your mother's son. Perhaps you should contact your uncle.”

  Russell bowed his head. “There is wisdom in what you say, Father. I will do so.”

  “Will you be staying for the festival tonight?” Randy asked. “We are short a drummer.”

  Russell nodded. “I won't be needed back in Lakeville until Tuesday afternoon.”

  “Good,” Randy replied.

  Russell couldn't help but grin at the taciturn conversation. His life in town was so filled with words, he always felt the adjustment keenly when he returned to his father's people. I wonder what Riley would think of this.

  Chapter 2

  A week after his first meeting with Riley, Russ found himself waiting for her outside the Lakeville School building. He hadn't seen her in person since the other day when he had taken her to Lakeville, but after their first meeting he'd visited her dreams twice. She was willing enough to let him visit with her in her ice prison of sleep, but she had not shown him any more memories.

  “Riley,” he said, his voice gruff as he scanned her slender form. Something had changed about her posture. She was carry
ing herself with more poise, not hunched and nervous the way she'd been before. Only two days in the classroom has done her that much good? Amazing. Some people were just born teachers.

  “Russell.” She met his eyes and then her gaze skated away in what he had already figured out was a typical gesture for her. Still shy, little Riley?

  “All aboard. How was your week? Ready to run for the hills yet?”

  He shut her door and vaulted in beside her.

  “I'm already in the hills,” she informed him as the plane climbed to altitude. She pointed out the window at the small peaks – not quite mountains, but certainly big, rocky shapes, like mountains in miniature – that blocked roads from being made between the two towns and necessitated Russell's service.

  “True.” The girl seemed so serious, her attempts at humor never failed to surprise him.

  And then she turned serious again. “No, Russ. I'm here to stay. At the very least, I've signed a one year contract. I won't skip out on that. And so far, the teaching has been fine. Of course, this is the honeymoon period. Kindergarteners can be little rascals at times.”

  “You sound like an experienced teacher. I thought this was your first assignment,” Russ commented.

  “No,” Riley replied. “I've taught for two years already. Second grade, back home.” She seemed to be fixated on the rocks and trees below them.

  “And where is that?” he pressed, maneuvering the plane higher over a sharp boulder on the summit of the hill.

  “Portland,” she replied absently.

  “Maine or Oregon?”

  “Oregon.” She still wasn't listening that closely. Worry seemed to radiate off her. Not used to the plane yet, eh, sweetheart? You'll adjust.

  “No wonder you're sort of prepared for the weather.”

  “Pardon?” Now he had her attention. Worried about the weather, I see.

  “I mean, Oregon isn't as cold as Alaska, but it's cold enough. So you're used to winter.”

  “Oh, right,” Riley said, returning to her vigil, staring out the window.

  “Hey, Riley?” Russell's heartbeat accelerated.

  “Hmmm?”

  “Has anyone given you a tour of Golden? You know, showed you the town?”

  Riley looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “Kind of. The principal drove me around a bit.”

  “Boring Bill? Did it put you to sleep?” Russ laughed. She looked askance at him. “Sorry, I've known Bill Brewer a long time. I don't think of him as a principal. I think of him as the kid who put gum up his nose on a dare.”

  She giggled and then clapped her hands over her mouth. Her eyes were twinkling again.

  “I won't tell him you laughed,” Russ added. “Tell ya what. How would you like me to show you the town? We can grab a bite to eat at the café.”

  Her smiling eyes turned serious as she scanned him all over, lingering particularly at his head. He could hear her trying and failing to guess the years that separated them and wondering what everyone would think. “All right, Russ. Evenings are a bit lonely, what with me not knowing anyone yet. So I'd like to talk to someone for a while.”

  Russ grinned. This isn't going to be so hard.

  * * *

  Russell's prediction that getting to know Riley wouldn't be hard couldn't have been more wrong. The girl could give clams a lesson in being closed-mouthed. Apart from the fact that she grew up in Portland with a single father who was a clergyman and a scholar, the girl deflected every question. It was as though she'd been born knowing how to evade. Though he didn't like the secrecy, Russ had to admire her dogged determination not to let any details slip. Of her life in Alaska, she was an open book. Everything from the neighborhood she lived in to her phone number (he had that tucked inside his jacket – in case of weather emergencies) to every detail of her job had been thoroughly dissected. Russ had the distinct impression she was deliberately starting over. Trying to recreate herself without a past. He was inclined to let her. No need to pry, as long as she was willing to let him talk to her. He could take her on her terms.

  Seated at the café with old-fashioned burgers, fries and root beer floats in front of them, he was able to face her straight on and admire the pretty face with the amber eyes.

  “Somehow,” she said, that funny half-grin twisting her lips, “you don't strike me as a root beer kind of guy.”

  “C'mon, Riley, everyone likes a root beer float. But what do you think? What should I be drinking?”

  Her eyes narrowed and she scanned him again, and once again her eyes seemed to get stuck at his white hair. “I was going to say beer, American and on tap, but that's not really it. Maybe… scotch?” She shrugged. “I don't know a whole lot about drinks.”

  “Interesting choice. Actually, I wouldn't mind a beer on tap, though Belgian and Dutch beers are better. But I'm not overly picky. Around these parts, you take what you can get, and what you can get is usually booze so raw it makes your eyes water, even while it's warming your insides.”

  “Hmmm,” she replied in a cryptic hum. “That's interesting. So you're a heavy drinker?”

  “Who me?” He shrugged. “Nah, I was bred for this climate. I can take the cold. I only drink now and again. Would you be interested in joining me for a drink some time?”

  Riley bit her lip. “I don't know, Russ. I…”

  He reached across and patted her hand. “I know. You just got here. You don't know me well. It's okay, Riley. I'll give you some time. I'll ask again later, when you're settled, okay?”

  She heaved a sigh that looked like relief.

  “Hey, I'll be right back.” Russ stepped away from her and headed to the restroom. Inside, he took a moment to regard his reflection in the mirror, considering what a woman would see. Suntanned faced with crinkles in the corners of his eyes and grooves around his mouth. Thickly padded muscles in the shoulders and chest. Narrow waist. Sculpted, powerful thighs. And white hair. Fully white. Yes, in truth he was on the young side of middle age, but the color was congenital.

  Should I tell her? Would that sound sissy, or like begging? He shrugged. The thought processes of women, and particularly of this woman he barely knew, were a mystery, and he couldn't guess what she would like or expect. She'll have to take me as I am… or not. Uncomfortable with his uncertainty, Russ abandoned the bathroom and slouched back the table, feeling grumpy. As he made his way past wooden tables with red vinyl booth cushions and white lights that looked like flying saucers, he noticed Barbara had approached with the water pitcher and was chatting conspiratorially with Riley. Russ drew nearer, unabashedly eavesdropping.

  “So, how do you like our little town?” the waitress asked, smoothing her hair back into its ponytail.

  “I like it,” Riley said. “But I've only been here a week or so.”

  “Yeah,” Barbara admitted. “It takes a while to find your place. I came when I was ten, but now I feel local. It's the people. They're reserved at first. Mind their own business. But once you plug in somewhere, you'll be fine.”

  “I'm not having much luck plugging,” Riley admitted.

  “It'll take time, but it'll happen. I hope you stay. We have the hardest time keeping kindergarten teachers. Mostly, I think, because they're young like you. There aren't so many single men here in town. Most of the young ones fly the coop after a year or two.”

  Riley's face flared scarlet, and Barbara hooted with laughter.

  “Are you really so shy that the thought of dating makes you blush… or have you met someone already?”

  Riley muttered something Russell couldn't hear, even with his animal senses.

  “What was that?” Barbara asked.

  “Nothing,” Riley said quickly, almost snapping. “I've been here a week. I've just noticed… there are a few handsome men in town. I'm sure most are married, but… well… the pilot…”

  “Russell? Oh, well.” Barbara gave Riley a long look. “You know, I think I probably know everything about everyone in this town. If Russell is your
choice, you could do a lot worse.”

  Riley blinked. “He seems nice is all, but won't people think it's odd, him being… older?” Her cheeks looked about to catch on fire.

  If I play this right, I might just get with her after all.

  “Not really,” Barbara replied. “There aren't so many to choose from around here. Most folks are just glad if they can find someone decent. Russ is decent… and then some. I don't think anyone will give age differences a second thought.”

  “I'm not committing to anything,” Riley said quickly. “I've known him a week. I was only curious.”

  Russ' bear roared in triumph. If Barbara knows, everyone else will shortly. Riley will be considered my girlfriend by the end of the month.

  “Of course, of course,” Barbara replied quickly. She refilled the water glasses as Russ slipped back into his seat.

  Riley met his eyes and let out a startled squeak. She spent the rest of the meal in silence, staring at her burger as though she could eat it with her eyes. Russ let her silence rest. Don't press. Just be near. Like gentling a wild beast. Eventually she'll realize she's safe.

  * * *

  Russ' bear paws could feel the frost beneath the soil. All around him, plants withered, curling in on themselves to survive the coming cold. Under snow they'd wait for spring. Fall was most dangerous. The dying time. Without the protection of a thick white blanket, many plants failed to survive. Here, in the remote wilderness, no people ever came. No pipelines stretched across this lushly forested wasteland. Virgin timber stretched as far as his ursine eyes could see in all directions. Only scent and muscle memory told him he was on the right path. A pile of stones stood sentry. Russell raised his nose toward the pale sun, barely visible between evergreen boughs, and roared, announcing his presence. A bellow answered his call, and in moments two huge, white polar bears padded out from between the trees. Russell bowed his head in submission, refusing eye contact.

  The larger of the two bears emitted a pig-like snort and both turned and walked away. He followed. The forest grew denser, until the bears had to walk single file, squeezing between the closely packed trunks, until at last they entered a clearing before a large, natural cave. The bears rose on hind legs and the air shimmered around them. A man and woman stood nude before Russell, their hair white, but their skin surprisingly dark. Black eyes peered from beneath thick, white brows. Russell made no move to change. Not until the woman laid a hand on his furry head.