Bearing My Soul: A Paranormal Werebear Shifter Romance by Ellen Graves Page B
Authors: Ellen Graves
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I still only got an inch or so into the dirt. Resolved, I poked and prodded with the shovel in angry desperation. After what felt like forever, I had only managed to clear out a small hole. Meanwhile, my hands were getting sore and cold. I gave the pathetic hole a mean glare.
The hair on the back of my neck stood on end with the sudden sensation of being watched. Looking deeper into the woods, I searched for wild animals. Nothing stirred. The trees were strangely quiet. I glanced over at the house next door, but no one was outside or standing in the windows. I was alone.
Nervously, I made my way around the house to where the potted trees waited. Grabbing one of the pots, I yanked and pulled at it. It barely moved at all. Straining, I bent my knees and put my back into it. It moved even less than before. I swore at it under my breath. Walking to the other side, I pushed against it.
I squealed, as the tree began to topple over. I grasped it hard by the trunk with both hands and pulled it upright with all my weight.
At last, I submitted to defeat. I resolved to do better tomorrow. Conscientiously, I tapped the loose dirt from the tip of the shovel. Then, I put it away. I hurried inside and into the bedroom. I was anxious to shower, drive to town, and get the grocery shopping done. Maybe I can’t build fires or dig holes, but shopping is no problem for me.
I closed the bedroom curtains as tight as they would go; but, there was still a crack between them. Through it, I could see the neighbor’s house. It sat on a slight hill and seemed to overlook the little historic home I was in. It was far enough away to give me some space, but not so far away that I wouldn’t be perfectly visible through an open window.
I tried tossing a thin blanket over the curtain rod, but it kept sliding off. At last, I gave up. The glare from the late afternoon sun would likely keep out any prying eyes.
I shut and locked the bedroom door. Then, I slipped from my clothes. It felt weird being naked and completely alone in the old house. Every noise I made reverberated from the bare walls. It was like the place mocked my every move. I clenched my teeth and covered my breasts with one arm, as I stepped pensively onto the cold tile floor in the bathroom. I tried not to look at the cracked and tarnished porcelain, as I reached into the tiny shower and turned on the water. The pipes squealed painfully, as I waited for the hot water to start. Then, I climbed in.
I washed quickly and scurried from the shower. Wrapped in towels, I made my way back into the bedroom. I pulled some clothes over my still-damp body. Once I was dressed, I felt more relaxed. After staring into a nearly empty refrigerator for several long minutes, I decided on a small yogurt and an apple for lunch. Finally, I was in my car and headed for town.
While passing the house next door, I thought I captured a glimpse of someone in the front window. If so, they were watching me leave. I couldn’t be certain.
As I pulled into the little town, I noticed that it looked as though it had never made it out of the 1940s. The old brick and stone façade fronts were quaint and charming; but, as I stepped onto the bare planked floors of the general store, I immediately missed the modern grocery stores from back home.
“Can I help you find something?” said a calming voice from behind the counter. I turned to see an elderly lady smiling suspiciously at me.
“Yogurt, butter, flour, and maybe some ground beef?” I asked.
Her eyes narrowed, then she grinned brightly. “Are you that Andrea Sheppard they told me was coming to take care of the old Hall place?”
I sighed in relief and nodded. “I just need some supplies.”
“Of course, of course,” she chanted, stumbling her way around the counter. She grabbed a bent old shopping cart and guided me around the narrow aisles of the store. “We’ve got everything you
I still only got an inch or so into the dirt. Resolved, I poked and prodded with the shovel in angry desperation. After what felt like forever, I had only managed to clear out a small hole. Meanwhile, my hands were getting sore and cold. I gave the pathetic hole a mean glare.
The hair on the back of my neck stood on end with the sudden sensation of being watched. Looking deeper into the woods, I searched for wild animals. Nothing stirred. The trees were strangely quiet. I glanced over at the house next door, but no one was outside or standing in the windows. I was alone.
Nervously, I made my way around the house to where the potted trees waited. Grabbing one of the pots, I yanked and pulled at it. It barely moved at all. Straining, I bent my knees and put my back into it. It moved even less than before. I swore at it under my breath. Walking to the other side, I pushed against it.
I squealed, as the tree began to topple over. I grasped it hard by the trunk with both hands and pulled it upright with all my weight.
At last, I submitted to defeat. I resolved to do better tomorrow. Conscientiously, I tapped the loose dirt from the tip of the shovel. Then, I put it away. I hurried inside and into the bedroom. I was anxious to shower, drive to town, and get the grocery shopping done. Maybe I can’t build fires or dig holes, but shopping is no problem for me.
I closed the bedroom curtains as tight as they would go; but, there was still a crack between them. Through it, I could see the neighbor’s house. It sat on a slight hill and seemed to overlook the little historic home I was in. It was far enough away to give me some space, but not so far away that I wouldn’t be perfectly visible through an open window.
I tried tossing a thin blanket over the curtain rod, but it kept sliding off. At last, I gave up. The glare from the late afternoon sun would likely keep out any prying eyes.
I shut and locked the bedroom door. Then, I slipped from my clothes. It felt weird being naked and completely alone in the old house. Every noise I made reverberated from the bare walls. It was like the place mocked my every move. I clenched my teeth and covered my breasts with one arm, as I stepped pensively onto the cold tile floor in the bathroom. I tried not to look at the cracked and tarnished porcelain, as I reached into the tiny shower and turned on the water. The pipes squealed painfully, as I waited for the hot water to start. Then, I climbed in.
I washed quickly and scurried from the shower. Wrapped in towels, I made my way back into the bedroom. I pulled some clothes over my still-damp body. Once I was dressed, I felt more relaxed. After staring into a nearly empty refrigerator for several long minutes, I decided on a small yogurt and an apple for lunch. Finally, I was in my car and headed for town.
While passing the house next door, I thought I captured a glimpse of someone in the front window. If so, they were watching me leave. I couldn’t be certain.
As I pulled into the little town, I noticed that it looked as though it had never made it out of the 1940s. The old brick and stone façade fronts were quaint and charming; but, as I stepped onto the bare planked floors of the general store, I immediately missed the modern grocery stores from back home.
“Can I help you find something?” said a calming voice from behind the counter. I turned to see an elderly lady smiling suspiciously at me.
“Yogurt, butter, flour, and maybe some ground beef?” I asked.
Her eyes narrowed, then she grinned brightly. “Are you that Andrea Sheppard they told me was coming to take care of the old Hall place?”
I sighed in relief and nodded. “I just need some supplies.”
“Of course, of course,” she chanted, stumbling her way around the counter. She grabbed a bent old shopping cart and guided me around the narrow aisles of the store. “We’ve got everything you
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