“She cares about you,” she observed, unwinding her scarf.
“Gretel’s like family,” he admitted, moving behind the desk to check the logbook. “She’s been looking out for me since I arrived.”
“Was she one of the reasons you decided to stay?” Sorcha asked, settling into one of the visitor chairs across from him.
Christopher hesitated, his fingers tracing the edge of the logbook. “She was. Is.”
“Why? Why did you choose to stay?”
This was it—an opening to tell her more about himself, to begin the process of revealing who he truly was. Christopher took a deep breath, meeting her curious gaze. Because it was more than that. His answer might help Sorcha make the same decision.
“I was an investment banker,” he said, the words feeling strange on his tongue after so long. “Successful by most standards. High-rise apartment, expense account, the works.”
“What happened?” Sorcha leaned forward, her reporter instincts clearly engaged.
“I had a…breakdown, I guess you could call it.” Christopher chose his words carefully. “The pace, the pressure…it was crushing something essential in me. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. So I got in my car and just…drove.”
“Until your car broke down in Bear Creek,” Sorcha finished, remembering what he’d told her earlier.
“Exactly.” He smiled, recalling that fateful day. “Best mechanical failure of my life.”
“But why stay?” she pressed gently. “You could have had your car fixed and continued on your way.”
Christopher’s bear stirred restlessly.Tell her more. Show her who we are.
“Because for the first time in years, I could breathe here,” he said, the truth of it resonating through him. “The mountains, the forest…they called to something deep inside me. Something I’d been suppressing for too long.”
Sorcha nodded slowly, as if she understood perfectly. “Nature has a way of stripping away the artificial, doesn’t it? Bringing us back to our essential selves.”
“It does,” Christopher agreed, relieved by her understanding. “And Bear Creek…it has a special magic to it. People find themselves here. It’s like you said. Nature strips everything away. And then there’s just…you.”
“I’m beginning to see that,” she said softly, her eyes never leaving his.
The moment stretched between them, full of so much that was left unspoken…
Then the phone rang, its shrill call shattering the intimate atmosphere. Christopher picked it up without thinking. “Bear Creek Cabins, this is Christopher speaking.”
A frantic voice came through the line. The guest in Cabin 2 was concerned about a strange noise outside their window. Christopher assured them he’d check it out immediately.
“Duty calls,” he said to Sorcha after hanging up. “Want to come along on my first emergency of the night?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” she replied, already reaching for her coat.
Outside, the night had grown colder, their breath forming white clouds in the freezing air. Christopher led the way along the well-worn path to Cabin 2, his senses alert for any unusual sounds or movements.
“What do you think it is?” Sorcha asked, keeping pace beside him.
“Probably a raccoon,” Christopher replied. “They’re clever little thieves. Or maybe a deer. We get a lot of wildlife around the cabins.”
As they approached Cabin 2, Christopher spotted the culprit immediately, a young doe nibbling at the decorative winter berries planted along the cabin’s foundation. He pointed silently, watching Sorcha’s face light up with delight.
“She’s beautiful,” Sorcha whispered, her eyes wide.
“She comes by most nights,” Christopher whispered. “I’ve named her Thistle because she always goes for the thistles in summer.”
The doe’s ears twitched at the sound of their voices, but she seemed unconcerned by their presence, continuing her meal with delicate precision.
“The guests called about a deer?” Sorcha asked, keeping her voice low.
