The Baby Shift- Texas Read online

  The Baby Shift: Texas

  Shifter Babies Of America 24

  Becca Fanning

  Copyright © 2019 by Becca Fanning

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Also by Becca Fanning

  Chapter 1

  “Ten more miles … ten more miles…,” Kirsty Fox told herself as she started to ascend to what seemed like the thousandth uphill she’d seen that day. It was unseasonably warm for November, even for Texas, and the heat had already started beating down on Kirsty’s back when she started her run four hours ago, back when the sun had barely risen above the horizon. This was her longest training run to date, 27 miles through the switchbacks and tough terrain of Big Bend National Park. She’d been building up to this for months, the longest run on a grueling training schedule that had her getting up before dawn to squeeze in workouts that left her so drained, it was a wonder she didn’t face plant in front of her kindergarteners each day. But if she could conquer this run today in this sweltering heat when she was spent from a full week of teaching and one too many margaritas at Taco Joe’s the night before, she knew she could conquer the local ultramarathon she’d signed up for in January. And if she could finish the Big Bend Ultra, she’d qualify for the big guns: the 100 Mile Trail Challenge in Colorado — 100 miles through rocky, mountainous terrain in Kirsty’s favorite state.

  * * *

  It was her dream race. The one she’d been working toward for years, the one that had her pounding the pavement through days both sweltering and snowy, through sickness and health, through blistered feet and lost toenails. This race was what got her up and running each morning, and the thought of finally having that finisher’s medal to put next to her dad’s was what was going to get her through today.

  * * *

  But no matter how vividly Kirsty imagined pinning that medal up in the special glass case hanging over the mantle of her one-bedroom apartment in downtown Marfa, she couldn’t get her legs to move any faster. She’d felt fatigue before, had hit plenty of walls in marathons and ultras in the past, but this was different. There were no two ways about it: she was fading, and there was no way to boost her energy, no aid station or volunteer to hand her a cup of Gatorade and some sugary snacks to nosh on. The bladder in her water pack was empty; she’d eaten all the gummies and sugar straws she’d packed; and she had stopped sweating, which, from all her reading about running and the various health and safety issues that went along with it, told her this was a bad sign. Even more distressing was the fact that her car was ten miles away, and her cellphone had no service. So, even if she’d wanted to stop and get help, she couldn’t. She was stuck in the desert, all alone, and there was nothing for it but to dig deep and find some untapped reserve of energy that would get her home.

  * * *

  “The canyon is only a mile away,” she reminded herself as she passed a sign for the Santa Elena Canyon, which she knew had a small river running through it and ample shady spots to rest. There, she could sprinkle some water on her neck, take a break to stretch, and hopefully, find the will to keep going. You can do this, she told herself. And if you do, you earn the biggest burrito Chipotle can assemble. Extra guac and all.

  ---

  While Kirsty was pounding the pavement imagining that first juicy bite of her chicken burrito, National Parks employee and ranger Samuel Brooks was only a mile away, resting on the banks of the canyon with the wind softly tickling his fur, enjoying the feeling of the dappled sunlight warming his back. Right at that moment, Sam didn’t have a care in the world. It was his day off from being a park ranger, and he was taking full advantage of the deserted depths of the Santa Elena Canyon. Usually swarming with tourists, the canyon was surprisingly empty on that particular Saturday, and Sam relished the opportunity to be his true self in nature without any witnesses. He normally had to be so careful about when and where he shifted into his bear form, but today, with the area deserted, he felt perfectly safe sitting on a rock near the river, listening to the water gently flowing by. The world was perfect; the sun was shining; he was a bear, and there was no one to disturb him with silly tourist questions.

  * * *

  But then, just as Sam was starting to fall into a blissful, restorative sleep, he heard something that wasn’t the river. It sounded like panting, and as Sam quirked his ears and listened closer, he thought he detected the steady intake and outtake of breath of a runner. Poking his head up, he looked around him, first at the river and then at the rock outcropping just above his head, hoping he was just imaging things. But, alas, when he looked up, he found himself staring at a woman in Lycra, her chest heaving with deep breaths. She was standing not ten feet away from him, her face white with fear as she took him in.

  * * *

  At first, Sam was affronted. What the hell did she have to be scared about? He was a nice, affable guy who made most people feel at ease. Hell, that was practically in his job description, other than keeping stupid kids from leaving beer bottles in the park or trying to burn the desert plants down with their cigarette butts. But then Sam remembered: he was a bear. And she was a human. And bears and humans generally did not have the most congenial of relations. The movie Revenant, with Leonardo DiCaprio, came to mind, which explained why a moment later, the woman in front of him started screaming. The park ranger in Sam wanted to tell her this wasn’t exactly the best thing to do when confronted with a brown bear; professional advice dictated that when met with his kind, humans were to drop to the ground, roll onto their stomachs (so it was harder for the bear to flip them over) and play dead until the bear moved on and found something else to sniff, because, to bears, humans smelled downright gross.

  * * *

  The bear in Sam, however, couldn’t help growling as the human screaming pierced his ears. It wasn’t his fault; his hearing was so much more sensitive once he’d shifted. Her screaming was actually making him shudder, piercing him down to his core and making him shiver all over.

  * * *

  But Sam’s growl was apparently a little more forceful than he’d intended, because a moment later the woman not only stopped screaming, but started to look distinctly woozy, and then, fainted dead away. Shit. Sam sat up and crawled over to inspect her. Yup, she was unconscious. Shit, Sam muttered to himself. This was going to ruin his afternoon.

  Chapter 2

  “I have made a woman faint,” Sam texted his best friend Joel once he’d carried the woman back to his cabin. Thank God he’d stashed a spare change of clothes in one of the bushes near the canyon; otherwise, he would have either had to carry the woman in his bear form or as a naked human. Neither of those was really preferable in the event he ran into a civilian, though thankfully the path to his ranger hut turned out to be just as deserted as the rest of Big Bend that afternoon.

  “Like faint with lust, or…?” was Joel’s answer. Sam snorted. If only she had fainted with lust. Sam hadn’t been anywhere near lust in the last twelve months. Hell, other than the woman he’d just carried to his hut and placed on his couch, he hadn’t touched a female in nearly two years. Not after the woman he thought he would mate for life had left him for her ex-boyfriend, a man whose actual name was Lance. Short for Lancelot. Apparently, his parents were medieval studi
es professors and didn’t see the irony.

  “No. She saw me in my bear form, and … well, she got distressed … and fainted. And is now asleep/comatose on my couch. Apparently, her name is Kirsty, according to her I.D.”

  Sam looked over at the unknown woman to confirm she was, in fact, still lying supine on his most comfortable piece of furniture. Her hair was fanned over the cushion he’d placed under her head, the bright, nearly white blonde strands contrasting sharply with the navy blue of the pillow.

  Her knees were curled under her, but even if she hadn’t been wearing running shoes and a variety of enticing spandex garments, he would have known she was a runner from the graceful slant of her calves, the muscular build of her thighs. She was long and lean, nearly as tall as him from what he’d seen when she was standing before him at the canyon. A veritable athletic goddess if there ever was one, the kind he wouldn’t be surprised to find was an athleisure model or professional athlete.

  Sam’s phone beeped, alerting him to the fact that he had a message, but also that it was more than a little creepy to be checking out the unconscious woman on his couch. Turning away from said woman and taking his phone back out of his pocket, Sam clicked on the notification from Joel.

  “Shit! She saw you shift? I thought you were trying to be more careful about that. Also, you looked through her stuff? Creeper, much?”

  Sam rolled his eyes. You get caught shifting in the middle of the campus green one time in college, and suddenly you’re considered irresponsible by your adopted clan. “I am careful! I’ll have you know, there wasn’t a soul around me when I shifted. I made sure of it. She just happened upon me while I was sunbathing, and then she fainted, and I couldn’t just leave her in the canyon. I AM a park ranger, you know, and our protocol dictates that we look for I.D. when assessing a comatose visitor to look for underlying medical conditions. You’ll be happy to know she had none.”

  The rolling eyes emoji popped up on the screen, and Sam decided to put his phone away and focus on the situation in front of him. More accurately, the woman in front of him.

  His park ranger training had involved some medical education, which meant Sam knew that this woman shouldn’t still be unconscious. Not unless something besides the fright of seeing a werebear in full shift was wrong with her. Her license hadn’t mentioned any pre-existing conditions, but something could have happened to her on the trail to make her feel woozy even before she came into contact with a thousand-pound specimen of ursine perfection.

  Tentatively walking over to her, Sam looked at the woman on his couch. Her skin was nearly as pale as her hair against her tan, and a quick check of her pulse told him her heart was beating far quicker than it should for someone who was in such good shape and who was also supposedly asleep. Her skin was cold to the touch even though Sam had put a blanket on her right after he’d laid her on the couch, and her clothes were soaking wet with sweat slowly seeping into the couch below her.

  Which meant only one thing: Sam was going to have to strip her down and put warmer clothes on her. It was the only way to prevent heat exhaustion, which her rapid pulse and cold skin told him she was suffering from.

  Just as Sam was approaching the couch to lift the blanket, the woman woke up, took one look at Sam, and screamed. Again. God, what was it with her and screaming?

  Chapter 3

  “Jesus, Kirsty, what is it with you and screaming?” Sam said as the woman in front of him shrieked. “You’re going to waste all your energy!”

  At that, Kirsty quieted, but her eyes betrayed her wariness. “Who the hell are you, how do you know my name, and where the hell am I?” she asked, looking from the couch to the rest of the room.

  “Is this some sort of serial killer den? Are you going to kill me? Because I’ll have you know I can probably bench press twice your weight, and I’ve been taking judo since I was old enough to walk.”

  Sam backed up and put his hands in the air. “Easy, easy. I’m not a serial killer. I’m a park ranger,” he said, walking to the table next to the couch and getting his badge out of the drawer. “See?” He gave it to Kirsty, who peered from it to him a few times before reluctantly nodding. “And I know your name because I looked for identification on you once you’d fainted, to make sure you didn’t have any underlying medical conditions.”

  “And as for the serial killer den, I’ll have you know, this is United States National Parks Service Property, and I have done quite a lot to spruce it up. You know how hard it is to lug decorations all the way out here? It’s not like there’s an IKEA nearby.” Sam was slightly hurt that she thought his home looked like the lair of a murderer.

  “Fine. Samuel Brooks. What am I doing here?” Kirsty asked, waving away Sam’s explanations in favor of getting to the point.

  “I found you. Fainted. In the canyon. And carried you back here,” Sam said, hoping she couldn’t tell he was lying. Even though living as a werebear in modern day society required a hefty amount of deception and half-truths, Sam wasn’t great at dishonesty. Joel and the other guys always said his forehead betrayed him. Apparently, whenever he lied, one of his eyebrows twitched just enough to be noticeable. Sam hoped this girl thought it was just him trying to be dashing.

  “I fainted?” Kirsty asked, incredulous. “I was feeling pretty rough on my long run…” she said to herself.

  “How long were you going for?” Sam asked.

  “Just 27 miles. I’m training for the Big Bend Ultra, and then hoping to qualify for the 100 Mile Trail Challenge,” she said like that was a totally normal number of miles for a human being to run in a single day, and Sam definitely knew what races she was referencing.

  “Just 27 miles?! Jesus Christ! No wonder you fainted. That’s how much I run in a week! And what the hell is the 100 Mile Trail Challenge?”

  Kirsty’s attention perked up at that. “You don’t know? It’s only the greatest race in the entire world, 100 miles of tough terrain in the Rocky Mountains.” Her eyes were sparkling with a faraway look as she spoke, “My dad ran it every year when I was a kid.” Then her eyes refocused on Sam. “Wait, you’re a runner?” she asked, her mouth breaking into a grin that said she maybe didn’t think Sam wasn’t quite the murderous psychopath she’d previously assumed.

  Sam nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been running since I was in high school. It’s half the reason I took this job so I could run the trails whenever I want. I mean, I don’t race or anything, and I definitely wouldn’t run 100 miles at a pop even if you paid me, but I love that feeling of exhaustion you get in your muscles after a good five-mile run, you know?”

  Kirsty nodded, looked suddenly animated as she sat up and removed the blanket from her lap. “I know exactly what you mean. That’s what I was chasing today, but instead of feeling good endorphins, I was just feeling beat. And then that stupid bear scared me! I didn’t even know bears were native to this park.”

  Sam nearly said that they weren’t, but that would be blowing his cover. Even though his kind, i.e., werebears, was officially recognized by the US government and its varying related bodies, most citizens had never actually met a shifter, and if they had, they probably showed him or her the same prejudice that so many other minorities experienced. Sam had a feeling the woman before him was fairly open-minded, but he wasn’t quite ready to test that theory. So, in response to her comment, he said, “Oh, yeah, global warming has pushed them out of their natural habitats. We’ve found quite a few brown bears roaming the area. We’ve been trying to keep it on the down-low, so our tourism numbers don’t drop, but bear sightings are definitely on the rise.”

  There. That sounded believable, didn’t it? Kirsty was nodding, so Sam assumed his cover had worked. Who said he couldn’t lie?! Lost in self-congratulatory thoughts, Sam didn’t notice until it was too late that the girl had left the couch and was now standing at the window that looked out onto the valley below.

  “Are those…are those storm clouds over there?”

  Sam turned and looked where
she was pointing. Huge, dark, angry storm clouds were indeed heading their way, and despite the early afternoon hour, the sky suddenly looked nearly as dark as it did at sundown. The windows were open slightly, and Sam could smell the subtle electric odor of impending lightning. That was one of the good things about being a shifter; his senses were so much more attuned to the world around him that he often detected changes in weather patterns a good hour before the local meteorologists did. Of course, he would have detected the storm a hell of a lot sooner if he hadn’t been so focused on ogling the woman on his couch.

  “Shit, yeah. Looks like a bad storm, too,” Sam remarked, walking closer to the window until he and Kirsty were nearly shoulder to shoulder. He noticed again just how tall she was, her collarbone just a few inches below his as they watched the clouds slowly making their way toward them. She was the exact opposite of his ex-girlfriend Danielle.

  Danielle was short and curvy, with an hourglass figure that he’d wanted to worship for days on end, running his tongue along the dip in her waist, the smooth expanse of her stomach, the dark red and rosy areolas circling her nipples. She was the ideal mate for a bear, a big-bodied woman perfect for cuddling and curling his body around.

  But the woman beside Sam, while not his usual type, held a different but no less strong appeal. Long and lithe, Sam knew without testing it that Kirsty would trounce him in a race, that beneath those thin limbs lay muscles not to be underestimated. Her strength practically vibrated from within her, and Sam found himself drawn to it. Everything he’d been taught about being a bear-shifter, about what his role was within the clan, told him he was an alpha, a strong-willed leader who needed to control someone to be happy. But Sam wasn’t so sure that was the case, because being around Kirsty made him want to relinquish that control, to give and take domination equally between them so they both felt the power of having the other under their command.