“They’re like family,” Christopher replied, his voice soft with affection. “This whole town is, in a way.”
Sorcha nodded, understanding dawning. This was what had kept Christopher in Bear Creek all these years—not just the beauty of the place, but the connections he’d formed, the sense of belonging. Had her mom never found those kinds of connections?
Sorcha had never given it much thought before. Was it simply that her mom had thought she’d missed out on her career? Or had she not liked the way everyone seemed to know everyone else? They had never had a deep discussion about it. Maybe they should.
As they reached the truck, Sorcha paused with her hand on the door handle. “Thank you for this,” she said. “For making me take a break from my schedule.”
Christopher’s smile warmed her more effectively than any hot chocolate could have. “Sometimes the best stories come from the unexpected moments,” he said. “The ones you don’t plan for.”
Sorcha climbed into the truck, her mind already composing paragraphs about children sledding on a perfect winter day, about the generosity of strangers who became friends, about finding joy in the moment instead of always looking ahead to the next destination.
Maybe there was room in her article, and in her life, for both the ambitious career woman she’d become and the small-town girl who still remembered how to play in the snow. Maybe the key was in finding balance, not in choosing between two worlds.
As Christopher started the engine, Sorcha found herself wondering what Daniel had whispered to him, and why it had seemed to mean so much. But that wasn’t her story to know…at least, not yet.
Chapter Five – Christopher
As they drove to Bear Creek Sanctuary after their sledding detour, Christopher mulled over what he’d learned about his mate over hot chocolate in the café. It wasn’t good.
As much as she seemed to be enjoying her stay in Bear Creek, she did not like small towns. He could respect that, but he still hoped to change her mind.
We need Sorcha to see that small-town life does not have to be…well…small,his bear said.
Christopher chuckled.Isn’t that the reason we moved here? To be small.
That’s different,his bear replied.
Is it?Christopher asked.We were running away. Only we were running in the opposite direction to our mate.
His bear grumbled, not liking to be reminded of their past life. One that had threatened to consume them.
One that they had left behind before it suffocated them.
“Are you okay?” she asked, her brow furrowed, and he blinked as he realized he’d zoned out while talking to his bear.
Christopher blinked again, forcing himself back to the present. “Yes.”
“It looked as if you had drifted off there for a moment,” she said, studying his face. “If you are too tired, we could head back to the cabin, and I can drive out here later.”
“No,” he insisted, straightening in his seat. “I’m fine, honestly. I was just thinking how good it is to get out and enjoy the season.”
Sorcha nodded, but her eyes remained questioning. “You don’t usually enjoy the festivities?”
He shook his head, his gaze returning to the snow-covered road stretching before them. “I don’t usually get too involved, apart from the tree in the town square. But others…” He let the words trail off, not sure how to explain.
Sorcha pressed her lips together, understanding softening her features. “It’s not fun taking part in family activities without a family,” she murmured.
“No,” he agreed, relieved that she understood what he was trying to say. “So, thanks for letting me tag along.”
“You’re very welcome,” Sorcha replied with a teasing tilt of her head.“I’ll invoice you in cookies. Or gingerbread.”
“A high price but one I am willing to pay,” he teased in return.
They fell silent as they continued the drive through the snowy scenery. Christopher felt oddly exposed, as if she’d seen through his carefully constructed walls to the loneliness beneath. Yet there was comfort in her understanding, in not having to explain further.
The sanctuary appeared ahead, a sprawling property bordered by split-rail fencing. The main building was a rustic log structure with a wide porch, and smoke curling from its chimney against the winter sky. Several paddocks stretched behind it, some containing animals that moved like shadows against the white backdrop.
They parked near the entrance and made their way toward the office. Christopher held the door for Sorcha, feeling the blast of warmth as they stepped inside. The interior smelled of wood polish and coffee, with photographs of rescued animals covering nearly every inch of wall space.
