An unexpected warmth spread through Henry’s chest as the tiny human examined him without judgment or expectation. Her trust came free of the social complications that plagued adult interactions. He relaxed slightly, his large hand supporting her back with surprising gentleness.
Ivy watched with a smile that made Henry both uncomfortable and pleased, her eyes soft with something he could not identifybut which sparked an answering warmth in his chest. When Laney returned, she reclaimed her daughter.
“We wanted to ask you both about some issues we’ve encountered at the nature center construction site,” Ivy said.
Henry added his observations about the wildlife corridor sabotage, his voice dropping. “Someone placed barriers to redirect animal movement away from their natural patterns,” he said. “Trip wires at deer-leg height. Branch blockages at key crossing points.”
“That sounds like targeted ecological disruption. What species were affected most?” Laney said.
“Black-tailed deer initially,” Henry replied, suddenly finding the conversation easier now that it centered on wildlife rather than social niceties. “But also elk herds that move through the eastern ridge. Turkey flocks. Even predator paths.”
“Reminds me of what happened to us last year,” Max said, leaning forward. “A scam water filter company deliberately contaminated our water source with unknown chemicals. Law Enforcement still doesn’t know who funded them.”
“My brother Ash and his mate Eliana experienced something similar at Hampton Orchard,” Ivy said. “Someone set fires along the property line during the driest part of summer. They caught a few people. Info tech at the institute examined one of their phones. We knew from the beginning they were working for a larger organization.”
Henry frowned, memories surfacing. “That summer we had three unexplained forest fires on the north ridge set by the same arsonists.” His jaw tightened. “The Wilderness Academy hadissues too. Equipment sabotage. Cut climbing ropes during a charity climb.”
Henry’s jaw tightened, his ranger instincts connecting threads between the incidents. “There’s clearly a pattern here,” he said, his voice low but firm. “Someone’s systematically targeting key resources across Fate Mountain.”
“Not just resources,” Ivy added, leaning forward. “Educational facilities, conservation efforts, sustainable businesses. Anything that promotes balanced use of the mountain while preserving its natural state.”
Max nodded grimly. “Whoever’s behind this knows the mountain intimately. These aren’t random acts.”
“They’re trying to undermine our community’s connection to the land,” Laney said, cradling Sophia closer as if the thought itself threatened her child.
Henry looked at the baby, then at Ivy, something resolving within him. “It’s clear we need to protect the nature center,” he said.
As they prepared to leave, Henry found himself thanking Max and Laney with unexpected sincerity.
As they stood on the porch, the late afternoon sun caught in Ivy’s curls, turning them a warm copper gold. Henry found himself watching the play of sunlight through her hair, momentarily mesmerized.
“So,” Ivy said, breaking the silence. “The nature center crew is having a small gathering at the brewery tonight.” She gestured toward the main brewery building just yards away. “Nothingfancy, just a chance to unwind after the stress of the scaffolding collapse.”
Henry’s body tensed instantly. His planned evening of solitude vanished like morning mist under summer sun. “I should get back to the cabin. Reports to file.”
“Of course,” Ivy replied. “I just thought... sometimes people talk more freely over beer. We might learn something.”
Henry’s gaze shifted to the brewery, where lights glowed warmly in the gathering dusk. His bear pushed toward it with unexpected eagerness, drawn by the prospect of more time with Ivy.
“Just for an hour,” Henry heard himself say, the words emerging before he could reconsider. “To gather information.”
Chapter
Ten
Henry steppedthrough the heavy oak door of Fate Mountain Brewery with Ivy at his side. The rumble of voices and laughter hit him first, followed by clinking glasses and music from a vintage jukebox in the corner. The rich scent of hops, polished wood, and leather filled the air. So many bodies pressed into one space. Too many people.
He counted three exits, marking each in his mind. The main door behind him. A side door beyond the pool table. What looked like the brewing room entrance behind the bar.
“Come on,” Ivy said, touching his arm lightly. “Let’s find the nature center crew.”
She led him through the crowded brewery toward a cluster of tables where construction workers gathered around pitchers of amber beer. Ivy introduced him to each person, her hand occasionally brushing his arm as she gestured.
“Everyone, this is Ranger Kincaid from the Forest Service,” Ivy announced to the group. “He’s helping to ensure the health of the wildlife corridor.”
The workers nodded in greeting, some raising glasses in his direction. Henry remained standing while the others sat, positioning himself against the wall where he could watch the entire room. A young woman with thick glasses and a Bright Institute lanyard approached Ivy, offering a shy smile.
“Dr. Bright, I finished those soil samples you asked for,” she said.
