Bear Fur Hire (Bears Fur Hire #2)(2)

“You coming or what?” Tobias called in an echoing voice from in front of the lodge.

“Yes, sorry,” she said, climbing the sloping mowed yard.

“You all right?” Tobias asked with a worried furrow to his eyebrows.

“I’m fine.”

“When women say they’re fine, they’re not fine. You don’t have to do this.”

“Do what?” she asked, coming to a stop in front of him and readjusting the single camera bag she carried on her shoulder.

“Go after those grizzlies. You could stay here for a day or two and relax. Maybe take pictures of the black bears that fish the river here. They’re safer, you know.”

Irritated, she said, “Yes, I know. I’ve photographed black bears for the past year. Grizzlies are my promotion.”

With a judgmental little quirk to his brow, he muttered, “Death by promotion. Your boss sounds like an *.”

Lena narrowed her eyes at the back of his head as he climbed the porch stairs, but she would not engage. She’d had a long trip here and wasn’t up for a row with a stranger who would be out of her life forever in a few minutes.

“You must be Colleen Rhodes,” said an older man with a thinning hair line, hunched posture, and a crinkling smile. He held out his hand as she approached the front door. “I’m Lennard Graves, co-owner of Silver Summit Outfitters.”

She shook his hand and mirrored his warm smile. “People call me Lena.”

“Very good. Nice to meet you Lena.” He turned and clapped Tobias on the shoulder, but the giant didn’t even sway under the hard hit. “Tobias, it’s good to see you again.”

“Lennard,” Tobias greeted with a nod. “Is my brother around?”

“Nope.”

“Good. I’ll go put her things up. What room?”

“Three.”

Tobias turned and yanked the camera bag strap from her shoulder, then strode through the front door, heavy boots clomping across the wooden floorboards inside.

Lena had opened her mouth to say she was sorry he was missing his brother, but snapped it shut at his abrupt departure. “Why is he glad his brother isn’t here?” she whispered to Lennard.

The corners of his eyes wrinkled with his easy smile. “Because those boys fight like titans. It’s best for everyone that they spend as little time in each other’s presence as possible.”

“But Tobias said this was a favor for his brother.” God, why was she being so nosey, and why did she even care?

“They’re family,” he said, as if the answer should’ve been obvious. “Don’t matter if they don’t like each other. A good man takes care of family when they need help. My regular bush-pilot just had his firstborn, and he’s shacking up in Anchorage with his wife while the babe is new.”

Lena smiled. “Good for him.”

“Indeed. A baby is always a blessing, and a daddy should be there to help if he’s able.” Lennard jerked his chin. “You ready to meet the guides and get the grand tour of the place? You’re the only one here for the next couple of days. Your boss booked you just right between guided tours. This season is a little slower.”

“Why is that?” she asked, following him into a huge foyer and staring up at a massive antler chandelier above them.

“Hunting season starts in September for big game. That’s our busy season. Right now is just sightseeing tours, fishing excursions, and guided camping trips. And pre-season scouting for big fancy magazine photographers,” he added with a wink. “We subscribe to Bucks and Backwoods. I knew your work from the credits at the bottoms of some of the pictures before your outfit even booked this place for you. You sure put a grin on this old man’s face when I found out you were going to come take pictures of our bears. I wouldn’t mind if you signed a couple of our in-house copies before you leave. The clients will get a kick out of it.”

Lena grinned and said, “I’d be happy to.”

Off the entrance was a great room with a grand stone hearth with a stuffed moose head over the cedar mantle. And under the dark leather couches in front of a big screen television was laid a bear-skin rug that had to be twice her height. The head was enormous, the mouth open in a menacing growl, and the gleaming teeth were longer than her fingers. “Holy shit,” she said on a breath.

“Holy shit indeed, ma’am. You’ll be in the thick of bears even bigger than that one.”

There was an open kitchen and dining area on the other side, and around an island, eating what looked to be some sort of steaming soup, sat two men with their backs to them.

“Chance, Dalton, come meet Lena Rhodes.”

The men, as different as night and day, one fair-haired with barely-there blond eyebrows and striking green eyes, and the other with tan skin, raven-black short hair and dark eyes, approached with friendly smiles.

“Chance Dawson,” the blond said, shaking her hand.

“Dalton Dawson,” the other introduced himself, giving her a good shake, too.

She liked the way they shook her hand. Usually, men in her industry gave her a limp handshake, or they turned her hand over, placing theirs on top of hers in a subtle play for dominance. None of these men had done that, though. It was all firm grips and friendly smiles. Good.