Bear The Burn (Firebear Brides 1) by Anya Nowlan Page A

him with a grin, running his items through the till with proficiency and speed he rarely saw in Boston. “New in town?” she asked, ringing up his total. “That’ll be ten fifty-five.”
    “You can say that. Just passing through,” he said, handing over ten bucks and some change. “Speaking of which, I don’t know if you can help me. I’m not entirely sure where I’m going.”
    Royce tucked his hand into his pocket and fished out a piece of paper with a smudged address on it. He handed it to the pretty woman at the counter—her nametag read Pearl, so he assumed he was talking to the owner—and leaned on the counter with his elbow. As she read it her eyebrows shot up, then looked at Royce with a newfound interest.
    “The Hamilton grounds? Yeah, I know where those are. You just go out of town for another twenty minutes or so down the… well, the only road that goes north, and when you hit a five-road intersection, you take one of the three that head to the west. And the next buildings you see are all the Hamiltons’. That’s a mighty big compound just to be driving through. I thought Herbert Hamilton passed away recently?”
    Wow. Small towns really all… small.
    He nodded tentatively, tucking the address in his pocket again and gathering up his rice and beans. “He did. Herbert was my uncle.”
    “I’m sorry for your loss! He was a grouchy old bear, but I always thought he meant well,” Pearl said gently, genuine compassion in her eyes.
    Royce couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, so I heard. Never met the man, actually. But he left me and my brothers the grounds and I figured I should give them a once-over before I sell them.”
    “Oh,” Pearl said, slouching back with obvious disappointment. “Such a nice place to sell. Shame. Sure you don’t want to relocate? We have the best bar in a three-hundred mile radius!” she said, getting that warm smile back.
    “You mean you have the only bar within a three-hundred mile radius!” he laughed.
    “Same difference,” Pearl chuckled as Royce made to leave. “Well, anyway, if you reconsider, you’ll know where to buy your supplies!”
    “I bet this is the only place within a day’s drive too,” he said with a wink.
    The way she smirked back told him that he was not wrong.
    Still chuckling under his breath, Royce threw the goods in the backseat and jumped in, revving the engine as he peeled off. At least a truck made sense here. In Boston, it was hard to justify something so damn big when he lived within jogging distance of the station. Then again, for a werebear, just about anything was within jogging distance.
    The road to the compound was easy enough to follow since it was the only one heading out of town to begin with. It split off a few times and Royce could spot roofs of big farm houses and ranches, but he kept going until hitting the fork. He’d thought Pearl’s comment about the spike had been some sort of a mistake, but there actually were three separate roads that all seemed to head toward something behind a patch of thick forest. Taking the middle one, he gave a mental shrug to not question Idaho directions.
    When he got to the actual homestead, his mouth dropped and remained firmly planted somewhere around his knees until he parked the car. The place was huge. Absolutely gargantuan. He grabbed the letter from the seat and shoved it in his pocket. Stepping out of the truck in the middle of the compound, Royce couldn’t contain his surprise.
    “Holy shit,” he hissed, pulling his hand through his hair.
    There were at least a few houses that had to have been a family home and living quarters for the guests and servants back in the day. A large barn that could have once been red stood behind the homes, and he could spy the remnants of countless cattle yards and paddocks. Strolling through the massive lands, he found several sheds and what might have once been an engine repair shop from the tools sprawled around.
    The farm lands were overgrown