Christopher stared at his friends, a lump forming in his throat. They’d all forgone their warm beds just to help him. Because they understood what finding his mate meant, even if Sorcha herself didn’t yet.
“I don’t know what to say,” he admitted, his voice rougher than usual.
Michael clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t say anything. Just get your boots on so we can finish these chores and get you to bed.”
Outside, the night had cleared, stars punching bright holes in the velvet darkness. Their breath clouded before them as they split up, each heading toward their assigned tasks. Daniel grabbed two shovels from the maintenance shed, handing one to Christopher.
“So,” Daniel said as they began clearing the path to Cabin 3, “tell me about her.”
Christopher smiled despite his exhaustion. “She’s…everything,” he said simply, unable to find words adequate to describe Sorcha. “Smart. Beautiful. Curious about everything. But she’s only here to write an article, and then she’s gone.”
Daniel nodded, his shovel scraping rhythmically against the snow-packed walkway. “Don’t worry about it. She belongs here. She’ll soon see that.”
“I hope so,” Christopher replied. “But convincing Sorcha might be more difficult. She’s spent her whole life running from small towns.”
“People change,” Daniel said with the quiet confidence of someone who had witnessed such transformations. “Finding your mate has a way of rearranging priorities. Or so I am told…”
They worked steadily, the repetitive motion of shoveling lulling Christopher into a meditative state. Beyond the trees, he could still sense Sorcha sleeping peacefully in Cabin 7. The connection between them seemed to strengthen with each passing hour, a tether that pulled taut when they were apart.
His bear stirred restlessly.We should be there, by her side as she sleeps.
Soon,Christopher promised.But first, we have responsibilities.
By the time they met back at the office, the night had grown older, with the moon hanging low over the western ridge. James had fixed the generator, Michael had restocked all the woodpiles, and the paths were clear enough for guests to navigate safely in the morning.
“That’s everything,” Michael announced, brushing wood chips from his jacket. “Now you can get some rest.”
Christopher looked at his friends, overwhelmed with gratitude. “I don’t know how to thank you guys.”
“You don’t have to,” James said simply. “That’s what friends are for.”
Daniel nodded in agreement. “Now, get to bed.”
They said their goodbyes with handshakes and brief, tight hugs—the physical reassurance of bonds that went beyond words. As they drove away, Christopher locked the office andheaded toward his cabin, his boots crunching through fresh snow.
He paused halfway to his door, turning to look at Cabin 7 in the distance. His bear pushed forward, urging him to go to her, to see if she needed anything. But Christopher resisted, turning back toward his own cabin. She needed space, time to process whatever was happening between them. And he needed sleep if he was going to have any chance of convincing her to stay.
Tomorrow,he promised his bear as he unlocked his door.Tomorrow we’ll show her everything Bear Creek has to offer. Everything we have to offer.
His bear settled down to sleep, somewhat appeased by this plan. But as Christopher fell into bed, not even bothering to undress fully, one thought followed him down into dreams: how do you convince someone who’s spent their life running that staying put could be the greatest adventure of all?
Chapter Ten – Sorcha
What was next on her list of ten things to do in Bear Creek this holiday season? Sorcha glanced at the list, even though she knew it off by heart since she’d spent so much time researching what the town had to offer.
There it was. Top of the list today was ice skating on the frozen creek from which the town got its name.
Sorcha had loved ice skating since she was a little girl. There was nothing like the freedom of gliding across the ice, feeling the cold air against her face, the exhilaration of speed as she twirled and spun. She’d practically lived at the local rink during winters back home. Looking back, it had been a way of escaping the pressures of home.
But once she’d left, she hadn’t set foot on the ice. So today would be filled with nostalgia.
She pressed her lips together. Would it also stir up some emotions she’d buried deep — so deep she had forgotten them? It would not be the first time old hurts had blindsided her on assignment.
But if it did, she was ready for it. And she would not let those buried feelings ruin the day.
As she trapped her finger on the words “Ice Skating on Bear Creek,” she embraced the flutter of anticipation that filled her. The creek had been frozen solid for weeks, according to the town’s tourism website, and locals maintained a smooth skating area just beyond the town’s edge. Along the trees bordering the lake were strung with colorful fairy lights, making the experience magical. Someone had even hung a wooden sign painted with snowflakes and the words LET IT GLIDE in looping white script.
She would have preferred to experience the scene at night, but she had something else planned for this evening.
