His Ghost to Bear: A Hallowed Love Romance: Guardians of Espen

By Sophia Barron and Alana Hart

Nothing haunts him like the past...

Bear shifter Clayton Carrington loses damn near everything— his life, his goals, his dreams for the future—when his twin is killed in the flaming oil fields. In the process he gains something unexpected and deeply disturbing.

Nothing scares her like the future...

Candi Helle loses everything—her son, her reputation, her home—to her abusive ex-husband, who unfortunately has connections and money to burn.

They both run to Espen seeking refuge and answers. Clayton’s arrival pours fuel on the fire of Candi’s life. Despite the burn, she’s drawn to him by the sorrow he wears like a cloak. But she’s got so many sorrows to carry already, there’s no telling if one more will break her.

When circumstances threaten Candi’s life, Clayton steps up to defend her, despite his bear’s urge to follow the echoes of the oil rig fire into oblivion. Can two broken souls find a way to heal each other before they lose everything?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sophia Barron
• Release date: Jan 20, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386691341

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

❤

~Clayton~

Clayton rolled out of bed and kicked Tucker awake. One more day of drilling, and we're out for two weeks.

Tucker groaned and stumbled to his feet, gingerly accepting the coffee mug Clay held out. Dawn was hours away, but work never ended. Clayton threw on coveralls and a hard hat and stumbled out the door to their trailer. His bear rumbled in disgust when the petroleum laden air hit their face. The stench and the crude distillate were everywhere, to the point that coffee didn't even taste right anymore. That was how they judged time passing, when they didn't notice the oily tinge to everything, it was time to break. This time, their ‘clock’ had failed them. The tang of oil was worse than ever as far as the bear was concerned. One more shift, Clayton consoled his beast as he stumbled to the truck. Tucker's footsteps tripped lightly behind him.

The brothers pulled up to the rig ready to start their day. It's going to be another long one, Bear. Clayton trudged toward the platform to wait for his assignment. His bear huffed, both warning and foreboding rising in the back of Clay's mind.

Oil hung impossibly thick, making everything Clay touched slick. He could see the droplets of mud and distillate and sand sparkle in the halogen lights. The steady thud-thud of the drill and the intricate dance of man and machine gave the impression that the derrick was a living creature. A creature that sometimes demanded unholy payment. Clay paused to watch as the roughneck crew drove steel pipes into the bowels of the earth at a furious pace. The urge to run, far and fast, hammered through Clay's chest. Quiet, beast. No time to rehash this old argument. One more day and they'd be free. One more month and he and Tucker would have enough put by to start their own trucking business.

Tucker leaned against Clay's shoulder, green eyes twinkling merrily. His half smile and eager nod toward the men clambering around the machine sent Clay's stomach plummeting. Last place he wanted his twin working was up in the rig. No way to get down if shit went sideways. But the assignments had been handed out. Old Joe's glare and jerked thumb sent everyone skittering to replace their coworkers. Too late to trade places. Besides, Ole Joe insisted the entire shifter crew know every position by heart. Clay really didn't have room to complain, but the ominous feel of the day had him and his beast wanting to run for cover. Still, it never paid to piss off Joe. He and Tucker needed the money this job would bring. Needed it to carve a better life for themselves, a life away from the oil fields and away from judgmental small town eyes.

Clay groaned and clambered onto the platform, ready to take over in this dance of death and dollars. Hands out ready to snag the clamps, he moved in time with the other two roustabouts, trying to ignore the rumble beneath his feet. Joe's crew had the record for safety, and the record for wells drilled; Clayton refused compromise that record. It didn't take long before Clay fell into the rhythm of the job. Not a mindless rhythm, but a meditative, strangely attentive rhythm that soothed his beast and his soul. Grab the clamp, clamp on. Tighten, step by agonizing slippery step, then ride the clamp back and let the machine drive the pipe home, release, and repeat. Ignore the mud and muck that rained down with each new section of pipe added to the last. Wipe away the sweat, the mud, the exhaustion, and go again. Until sundown.

Clay had really fallen into the rhythm of his work when the rumblings beneath his feet became overwhelming. Earthquake. His bear denied that intuitive guess with a roar. Shit, what-?

The bear drove Clay off the platform. Off the platform and toward the rig where Tucker hung suspended high above the dusty ground. Clay's beast roared a warning. Get down. Tucker's wide-eyed silver gaze met Clay's, proof his twin was doing his damnedest to save himself. Just as Clay started free climbing up the derrick the whole world shattered in a blast of heat and fire and stench. Clay was blown back across the dusty earth and slammed down so hard his bones snapped. Pain raced through him, multiplied tenfold when his bear surged forth with a roar. The shift consumed them in a flare of fear and agony. When it was over, bones had knitted and the bear stood solid, all four feet planted in the dust. Clay still reeled from the echoes of pain and the fear that tore into his mind. He screamed silently for Tucker as the beast sprinted back. Back into danger, into the fire that snaked up the rig, hiding their twin from view.

Bear slammed into the red-hot rig, then roared in pain and agony. The superheated metal seared their shoulder, but it gave. Roaring through the pain Clay's bear pushed. Drove forward step by scrabbling step until the pain in their shoulder stopped, pushed until the rig fell. They bolted up the downed rig, dodging the flames licking out for them, seeking any sign of Tucker. Finally, they found him, or what was left of him. Clay's mind flowed into the bears, then overtook it as they shifted once more. Clay fought tears, fought for his very breath as he pulled Tucker back away from the rig. His twin's charred body seared Clay's hands where they clamped under his armpits. No way he was leaving his brother to the fire. A small part of him knew it was hopeless, but bear insisted they try. Exhaustion and shock hammered them to the ground just as they broached the edge of the smoke and heat radiating from the oil fire. Clay fought to ignore what his eyes saw, to seek with other senses. His bear snuffled carefully, and Clay laid a palm gently on his brother's chest, seeking any sign of life. Nothing. No thump-thump of a beating heart, no rise and fall of breathing.

Clay started CPR, begging through his tears for Tucker to come back. After what felt like forever, Old Joe pulled him away with a sad shake of his head.

He's gone, Clayton. I'm so sorry, but he's gone.

Each word slammed into Clay like a stone of accusation. My fault. Should have traded with him. His mind kept looping the vision of Tucker flying through the air and landing broken and boneless.

It's all my fault. That should be me. I should have stopped him, should have traded-day felt wrong. Fuck, Tucker what am I going to tell mom? Clay fought the embrace Old Joe threw around him, but not even his shifter augmented muscles could tear him free from the old man's hug.

No, son. It's nobody's fault. Let's get you and him home, huh? Isn't that what he was working for?

Clay shivered in the older shifters embrace and watched as the ambulance crew loaded up Tucker. He turned to follow Old Joe to a waiting vehicle, but stopped in his tracks when he saw the shadowy form just behind the Lexus.

Tucker? Hey, come on, bro. This isn't funny. Clay reached out toward the ghostly bear, tears pouring down his cheeks. The ghost seemed to focus in on him, then nodded once and faded from view.

Joe, he was there. Just behind the bumper. Did you see? Clay rubbed his eyes and searched the ground for signs that his brother had actually stood there, searched for proof what he’d seen was real.

Joe's quiet growl barely registered, but his wide-eyed panicked gaze sent shivers down Clay's spine. I saw, Clayton. And we need to fix it. It's not right to keep him here like that.

How? How do we fix it? Can we pull a Lazarus? Hope welled in Clay's chest, and for a moment he dared dream that he could undo this, make it right.

No, son. That way lies heartbreak and madness. All that we can do is lay him to rest.

Damn it. Clay pounded the roof of the car he leaned against, denting it. His fist barely stung, but the pain was enough to ground him in this moment. Clay clambered into the back seat of the Lexus and resigned himself to the long ride home. Part of him wished he could drive, at least that would occupy his brain a bit. But he'd probably end up a ghost, just like Tucker. Best to ride. Ride and try not to lose his shit. He searched his mind for any sign of agreement from his bear. The silence inside was deafening.

Bear, you there? Clay waited a bit for an answer. Nothing. Hm, odd. He deliberately tried for a partial shift, asking silently to borrow his beast's claws and ears for a moment. Then he waited, and watched his hands intently. Nothing. What the hell was going on? Was his bear hiding from him in grief? Hell, he felt like his heart had split, but he needed the comfort of his bear's presence and the beast was MIA. What the fuck?

The luxury car rattled over the tracks, then bumped onto the smooth tar. Clay couldn't resist a last, lingering look at the wreckage that had claimed Tucker's life. He felt his eyes widen when he spotted what looked like two ghost-bears standing nose to nose on the gravel drive.

Joe, wait. Clayton fought with the door, slammed his shoulder into it, trying to get out, to get back to his bear. If his bear was back there with Tucker, how the hell was he going to get on with his life?

Clay felt the car stop and barged out the door. He turned to race towards his bear, towards Tucker. No idea what he was going to do to make this right, but he couldn't just ride away into the sunset. Fuck. He shook like a leaf as he watched both spirit beasts charge him full speed. He felt something inside change when his bear settled into their shared mind once more. Tucker's bear just passed right on through him.

Shit, now what? Bear's rumbled reply didn't help, but the sense of companionship the beast sent out toward Tucker's ghost decided him.

Come on then ghost. I guess you're with us ‘til we figure all this crap out. Clayton suppressed a shiver as he clambered back into the car. His skin crawled as the ghost bear clambered in over top of him, before fading once more.

Old Joe met Clay's gaze in the rear-view mirror. I don't much care for this son. The old man's normally soulful brown eyes were blazing yellow-gold, almost cat-like. And his pupils were slitted. Me and ghosts don't generally get along. I'll make an exception for Tucker's beast there, but you need to get him settled fast. Ain't nobody wants to be haunted like that for life.

Clay's sharp nod of acknowledgment seemed to ease Old Joe's inner demons a bit. Clay could actually see the golden glow leech out of his eyes, and the soft brown return. Just step on it, boss. Maybe mom will have an idea.

Espen, right?

Clay nodded in answer to Joe's question.

I heard there's a witch there, and a guardian. Maybe they can lay your ghost to rest.

Clay shrugged. He didn't know a thing about ghosts, but he damn sure wasn't leaving any part of his twin behind, despite the heebie-jeebies riding with the ghost caused. He'd just have to find a way to put it all right one way or another.

CHAPTER TWO

❤

~Candi~

Candi trembled in her chair as she waited for the judge to announce his ruling. She'd done her best, but Nicholas had outclassed her at every turn. His money and his parent's influence were so far outside her league she might as well be homeless. And that's how his lawyers had spun this whole charade.

Not that her lawyer was bad. Candi glanced over at him, hoping for reassurance. Daxton Jones sat tense and straight beside her, his foot tap-tapping steadily under the table. He was nervous, and young. But he was all she could afford, and if it hadn't been for his personal interest in spiting the old judge, she'd have had to fly solo--figure out this lawyer gig for herself. No way she could have afforded to pay the young man, it was sheer good fortune he'd offered to work pro-bono on this case.His fierce gaze was locked onto Judge Lorenz's serious face. If looks could kill, the judge would be lying in a pool of blood. Still, the younger man's intensity didn't ease Candi's worry. Not one little bit. She knew they were outclassed, but damn if she was giving up hope until the decision was final.

The judge banged his gavel, hard,and the murmuring in the audience behind them ended. Silence descended as the judge fiddled with the papers on his desk before looking up through his bifocals and starting to read. Candi fought for focus, fought for calm. Even if this went sideways, she wasn't giving up on her boy.

Judge Lorenz's voice washed over her, and she fought to focus, to process the ten dollar words. Finally, she could tell he was winding down.

In light of the evidence, and the stability Mr. Nicholas Helle can provide, along with Mrs. Candace Helle's mental break and lack of stability, sole physical and legal custody is granted to Mr. Nicholas Helle. Effective immediately.

Candi bit back a sob as the expected bad news slammed through her. Her eyes swam with tears, but she sat straight and tall. She wouldn't give her ex-husband the satisfaction of seeing her break. She hugged Bryce tight, loathe to let go. Then she whispered softly in his ear, Mommy loves you. But daddy has to watch you for a while, okay?

Her heart broke when her little man nodded slow and serious. He slid down off the seat beside her and stomped over to his dad, little backpack in tow. Candi watched every step her boy took, burned the steely courage and heartache etched in his little face as he glanced back at her into her heart. This is not the end. I will get him back.

Candi heard the judge still speaking, but his words didn't penetrate the sorrow consuming her. A soft pat on her back had her turning in her seat. Aria Fox stepped forward, tears swimming in her eyes. I'm so sorry, Candi. If I'd known it was going to come to this, I would have been here sooner.

Nothing anyone could have done. He's a Helle. They always win, always get their way. Candi returned her best friend's hug, glad for moral support.

A low rumble from behind Aria claimed Candi's attention, fast. Had she brought her husband too? That could be bad, if he didn't rein himself in. Benjamin Torbin had a bit of a reputation as a fighter. And if the rumors she'd heard around Espen were true, he was a bit more than met the eye. Candi looked closely at the tall dreamy man her best friend had landed, searching for signs of trouble. Not that she knew his signs, not nearly the way she knew Nick's signs. Reading her ex had become an exercise in survival the last few months, and she bore the scars to prove it. Ben's gaze was hidden behind mirrored sunglasses, but his tight mouth and clenched fists had Candi scrambling to herd her friends out of the courthouse before they could make things even worse for her.

Her young attorney followed hot on their heels, muttering to himself. Candi couldn't quite make out his words, but his displeasure was evident. She paused on the front stairs just outside the exit, determined to at least thank her young lawyer for putting in such a valiant effort on her behalf. She sure couldn't fault his energy and passion. She doubted a more experienced lawyer would have fared any better against the high cost team Nicholas had fielded. Candi reached out to shake his hand, but he refused with a shake of his head.

We're not done. Not yet Ms. Helle. I'll appeal this as far as I have to, because it's wrong on so many levels. Just... we need evidence. Rock solid, unarguable evidence. I don't know how long it will take to get, but once we do, I'll hand you your ex on a silver platter, figuratively speaking.

"Thank you, Mr. Jones. For everything. But most importantly, for not writing me off as a crazy