Contents
Waking Hearts
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Elizabeth Hunter
The Cambio Springs Mysteries
The Elemental World
The Irin Chronicles
Copyright
When everything you’ve longed for is standing right in front of you, would you find the courage to chase it when you’ve given up on dreams?
WAKING HEARTS
Fox shifter Allison Smith gave up on happy endings when her ex-husband walked out, but that didn’t mean she was allowed to give up on happiness. With four growing kids, Allie is determined to look on the bright side and carry on even when life seems to keep kicking the girl who’s fallen down.
Four kids, two jobs, and a pile of debt left over from her ex seems overwhelming most days. Luckily, Allie has the best friends a girl could ask for. Especially a certain quiet bear who’s always been her rock.
Patient. Oliver Campbell knows what it means to be patient. But twenty years of wanting one unavailable woman might have pushed him to the edge. With Allie working every night at his bar, their friendship has begun to fracture.
Then old ghosts give one more kick to the little family that’s already down, and patience is a virtue Ollie can no longer afford. Allie’s ex-husband may be gone, but his actions are haunting his family. With danger licking the borders of Cambio Springs, the bear and the fox will have to work together. And twenty years of unspoken truths may finally come to light.
WAKING HEARTS is the third paranormal romance novel in the Cambio Springs Mysteries series.
WAKING HEARTS
A Cambio Springs Mystery
ELIZABETH HUNTER
For Gen
Chapter One
ALLIE SMITH TOOK A DEEP BREATH and closed her eyes, trying to contain the temper threatening to burst through her calm facade. She glanced down at the plunger sitting in the clogged toilet and tried to decipher the legal gibberish of her lawyer who was on the phone.
“Wait, wait,” she said, pressing the plunger down and pausing. “It’s been a year. We filed this paperwork six months ago. It’s not my fault the man’s disappeared off the face of the earth.”
She tried to keep her voice down. The boys were all in school, but Loralie was only in kindergarten Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Today she was at home.
“I realize that,” her lawyer said. “But he still has to be served with the paperwork. And since we don’t have his address, we have to show the judge that we’ve made every attempt to find him.”
“But he left me. And the kids. He’s the one who took off.”
“But you’re the one filing for divorce. If you could hire a private investigator—”
“I don’t have the money for a private investigator!”
“Then we have to wait.” Her lawyer sighed. “Allison, I know it’s frustrating, but he’s not coming around and harassing you or the children. He’s not draining your finances—”
“Because there are none.”
“I’m just saying are you sure you want to proceed with the divorce when you’re having so much trouble serving him the papers? He’s sure to turn up at some point, so unless you have another relationship you’re trying to proceed with—”
“Oh yeah.” She shoved the plunger down again and pumped, hoping the clog was too much toilet paper and not another toy. How many times did she have to remind her seven-year-old, Christopher, that you don’t need half a roll to be thorough? “Yeah, I’m burning up the dating scene here in the Springs, Kenny.”
There! She pulled up and the water began to drain down the toilet bowl. Not a toy. Thank God. It could have been way worse.
“That’s right,” she continued. “I’ve got men lining up at the door for this hot thirty-four-year-old chick with four kids. I have to beat them off with a…” She looked at the messy thing in her hands. “Plunger. It probably wouldn’t be all that hard.”
Allie set the plunger in the bucket to take out to the garage and wiped the sweat off her forehead with her forearm. It was fall, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it supposed to be cooling off?
The town of Cambio Springs might have been hidden in a quiet corner of the Mojave, but that didn’t mean it was sheltered from the relentless heat of the Southern California desert. The weather had started cooling off at night, but in September the days were still sweltering. Happy weather for the bird and reptile shifting clans. Not quite so fun for the canines, felines, and bears.
Kenneth Dwyer was a lawyer in Palm Springs and one of the many cousins she had in the sprawling wolf clan her mother had been born in. Though Allie was a fox and her mother long dead, the family connections had proven true. Otherwise she’d never have been able to afford Kenny’s hourly rate.
His voice lowered. “Listen, Allie, I think you should talk to Alex about hiring a detective. It would be fairly routine. All he or she would have to do is put together a report to convince the judge that we’ve met the requirements for a diligent search to find Joe. Once the judge is convinced, we can serve by publication and you’ll be able to proceed.”
She fought back frustrated tears. Alex McCann was another distant cousin, the alpha of the wolf clan, and even more than that, a close friend. The fact that Alex was already helping her pay bills was humiliating, but she couldn’t ask her dad to do more. She had two sisters. She wasn’t the center of the universe.
No, she was an abandoned wife with four kids, two part-time jobs, and a load of debt she’d discovered after her ex-husband walked out the door just before she and the kids sat down for meat loaf one night.
But hey, at least her house was paid for!
“Listen, Kenny—” Her voice broke. “I can’t…”
“We can wait,” he said. “Or I’ll see if any of my regular investigators have employees looking for license hours who might give you a lower rate. We’ll figure it out, Allie.”
She leaned out of the bathroom to make sure the sounds of Loralie’s favorite cartoon were still bouncing down the hall.
“I just want to be done with him,” she whispered. “I’m not hung up. I don’t care about getting married again. I just want to be able to move on from Joe. Close the door. Figure things out with the kids without all these questions hanging over our heads.”
“We’ll do it. It’ll happen,” he promised. “This isn’t going to last forever. But divorce is complicated, especially when kids are involved and you’re filing for full custody. Take a deep breath and focus on your family. Let me do my thing here, and we’ll make it through.”
She took a deep breath and managed a smile. Choose to be happy. Just like the past fifteen years. Choose happiness and focus on the positive. She could do that. Allie was a professional optimist.
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“You’re the best, Kenny. I owe you brownies.”
“You know I’m not turning those down.”
“Say hi to Amber for me, okay?”
“Will do. We’ll be back home next moon night, so we’ll probably see you then.”
Nights when the moon rose full were de facto holidays in Cambio Springs. When most of the town was populated by shapeshifters and the people who married them, full moons took on a carnival-like atmosphere. Even those who’d moved away to the more prosperous towns of Palm Springs and Indio for work would return to shift and celebrate with family. Canines and cats. Snakes and birds. Even the solitary bears occasionally lumbered out to hunt or fish under the moonlight before they retreated to their dens.
Bears…
“Shit! Kenny, I gotta go. I’ll call you next week, okay?”
“I’ll let you know if I can find someone to help. Later.”
Allie had just remembered she’d promised Ollie she’d come in early to help Tracey with the inventory at the bar. Oliver Campbell was the quietest man she knew and one of her closest friends. And for the past ten months, he’d also been her boss. Though she needed the extra paycheck, the strain of working with him was beginning to make Allie wonder if their friendship was too high a price to pay for the added money.
Ollie was constantly grumpy when she was around. He was sweet as pie with her kids and grumpy as hell with her.
The depressing thing was, she thought she knew why.
THURSDAY nights at the Cave weren’t usually busy unless they had a band.
Tonight they had a band.
They also were behind in inventory since Tracey—Ollie’s head waitress for years—had been out sick earlier in the week and the delivery that was supposed to be there that morning hadn’t come in because of a breakdown.
Ollie frowned down at the clipboard Tracey had handed him.
“I’ll put that ale from Mesquite Brewery on special,” he said. “We’ve got an extra keg from them. And then…” He frowned. “Push mixed drinks, I guess. And bottles.”
Allie’s mind raced. She knew they were low on some of the favorite drafts, and the crowd at the Cave was definitely more of a beer crowd than a cocktail crowd. “Could we do an ice trough with longnecks by the entrance?” she asked. “Cash only? It’ll be quick. Lotta guys coming in after work would probably go for those just to cool off.”
Tracey nodded. “That’s a good idea.”
“Who are we going to get to man it?” he asked.
“I’ll call one of the weekend girls,” Tracey said. “See if they want to pick up some extra. Or Dani. I think she’s on break from school right now.”
“If Dani can come in,” he said, “call her. Pop said she needed some extra cash.”
Dani was one of the younger members of the bear clan and, like Tracey’s husband Jim Allen, worked at the Cave when she was able. The Cave wasn’t only one of the music hotspots in the high desert, but it was also the unofficial gateway to Cambio Springs. And for as long as anyone could remember, the Allen-Campbell clan had guarded that gate. Bears like Ollie and Jim quietly discouraged outsiders from becoming curious while they fostered the too-cool-to-care reputation of the bar.
It probably helped that both Ollie and Jim looked like hot bikers dreamed up in Hollywood. Jim wasn’t quite as tall as Ollie, but at six foot, he still packed a punch. He took after the Allen side more than Ollie, who was a lighter blend of African, Mexican, and Scots-Irish blood that made up most of the Campbells. Intricate tattoos painted both of Ollie’s arms and covered his chest and back. His face, if you didn’t know him, would be forbidding.
Ollie was a quiet man, but one whom very few were willing to cross.
Because of that carefully cultivated reputation, his bar had hosted some of the most popular rock, alternative, and country bands in the past ten years. It was well-known that the big man had some friends in LA who quietly steered bands his direction when they needed to toughen up their image.
It worked.
Playing at the Cave and not getting shouted down by the crowd was an accomplishment. Just the Quinns—Cambio Springs snake shifters and general mischief-makers—kept Ollie and Jim busy. Not to mention the bikers and other wanderers that were drawn off the interstate and into the dark, wood-paneled bar. Word about a new band got out and the crowds came. The bands sank or swam on their own merit. Nobody did you any favors at the Cave.
“A beer trough will work,” Ollie said in a low voice. “Tracey, go call Dani in. I want her here at six to help you guys set up. Good idea, Allie.”
“No problem.”
Tracey disappeared to call Dani, leaving Ollie alone with Allie. He crossed his arms and stared at the small stage in the corner where the band would be setting up in a few hours.
“You’re good at this,” he said. “The customers and stuff. Anticipating what they want.”
“Thanks.”
“Good idea moving you to nights.”
She nodded. “And I appreciate it.”
Ollie frowned. “You don’t have to… It’s fine. How’s it working out with the kids? With you gone at nights more.”
“Kevin’s my right hand. Doing great watching the younger three. My dad usually comes by for dinner.” She shrugged. “He doesn’t love me working nights, but he knows not to look a gift horse in the mouth.”
“You’re good at your job. I’m not doing you any favors.”
“We both know that’s not true,” she said under her breath.
He took a step closer. “Al—”
“Ollie!” Tracey called from the back of the bar. “Dani can come in, but she wants to talk to you. Family stuff, I think.”
Ollie muttered something under his breath but turned and walked to the back office without another word to Allie.
She let out a slow breath and watched him walk away, wishing the view wasn’t quite so tempting.
It wasn’t her fault really. After fifteen years with a man who equated kindness with weakness, Allie would probably be attracted to any man who was merely polite. And Ollie was more than polite. Despite his tough exterior, he was one of the kindest men she’d ever known.
And he was hot. Painfully, distractingly attractive in a way she hadn’t let herself acknowledge for many, many years. Admitting her attraction to Oliver Campbell would have made her crazy when she was still tied to Joe.
Allie didn’t want to get distracted by his big shoulders and gorgeous beard and overwhelming hotness, but come on! Three nights a week she waited tables for some of the roughest guys in the desert while the man behind the bar kept an eye on her. And Ollie took care of his girls. That feeling, combined with his looks, was enough to make any single mom go weak in the knees when she was used to being responsible for everything all the time.
But it was also ridiculous, because she was not the kind of woman Ollie was attracted to. Not even close. He kept things quiet, but she and her two best girlfriends, Jena and Ted, had gossiped plenty over the years. The women Ollie liked were all tall and dark and dramatically gorgeous. Nothing like her short “four kids later” body with flyaway blond waves and cheeks so round she felt like they’d never left elementary school.
Allie suspected Ollie knew about her ridiculous feelings, which probably explained the grumpiness. She did her best to hide it, but she must have done something to give it away. He knew her. They’d been friends since they were kids.
Awkward.
She had to get over it. An unrequited crush was not worth ruining a twenty-year friendship.
JIM leaned over the bar and shouted, “Do you want me to put Tracey on table five?”
She shook her head. Table five might have been irritating, but they were also tipping over twenty percent every round. If they were making a few suggestive comments, it wasn’t anything she wasn’t used to. “I’ve got it.”
“You give me the word and I’ll cut ’em off, honey.”
She gave him her most cheerful smile. “You?
??re the best, Jim.”
“Try to move them out before Ollie—”
She shook her head as the drummer broke into a loud solo. “What?”
“He’ll be back in five. They look like they’re moving along?”
She shook her head. “I told you I’m fine. They’re not causing trouble. Just a little annoying.”
“Right.”
The crowd was electric, especially for a weeknight, and Allie had to hand it to the alternative rock band from Orange County: they were good. Great rhythm and a lead singer who seemed to be as popular with the guys as with the girls. Young people had flooded in from all over the desert, and the bar was filled with a twentysomething crowd instead of the usual mix of all ages. Cocktails had been unexpectedly popular, and Ollie had been forced to run to his house to break into the Campbell bourbon and rye stash.
Table five looked like they were more interested in picking up girls than listening to the band. She guessed they were rich kids from LA slumming in the desert. They were dressed immaculately, even in the heat, with slick hair and carefully groomed facial hair they probably thought was “retro.” The four men seemed to be more amused by giving her a hard time than they were by the music.
“Hey, sweetheart,” the leader of the little group asked. “When can we expect those old-fashioneds?”
Allie eyed the tip of his glossy oxford as it tapped impatiently. She forced a smile as she set down a round of shots Jim had comped them because of the wait.
“Sorry, guys. The owner is on his way back with some more rye. Shouldn’t be much more than ten minutes. They’re the first order up.”
She pretended not to notice the brush of his arm on her hip.
“You live around here?” he asked. “What time do you get off work?”
She tried not to laugh. “I’m pretty busy, guys.”
“Your name’s Allie, right? I’m Ryan.”