As she spoke, Christopher felt a cold certainty settle in his stomach. His mate—the woman he’d always been destined to love—was someone who had spent her adult life running from exactly the kind of life he treasured. The irony wasn’t lost on him.
He would have to work harder than he’d imagined to make her see that Bear Creek could be her home, that putting down roots didn’t mean giving up freedom. That loving a place—and a person—could expand her world rather than limit it.
Or perhaps…
The thought came unbidden, startling in its clarity. Perhaps it was time for him to leave Bear Creek. He’d done it once before, leaving his own small hometown to find his place in the world. He’d traveled, stayed in fancy hotels, and seen more of the world than most would guess looking at him now.
He could do it again. For her.
Couldn’t he?
Chapter Four – Sorcha
Sorcha hadn’t opened up about herself to anyone for a long time. She’d learned the hard way that sharing a part of yourself could have repercussions. She’d closed that part of herself off, and instead of talking about herself, she’d developed a knack for getting others to talk about themselves.
It served her well as a journalist.
Not so much for relationships, particularly of the romantic kind.
More than once, she had been accused of not letting people in. She’d always smiled and changed the subject; headlines were safer than heartlines.
But it was different with Christopher. She trusted him. Although she could not explain why. There was just something about him.
Yes, it sounded cliched, but it was the truth.
Or was she romanticizing that too?
Was she reading too much into her reaction to Christopher? She’d always been a romantic at heart, despite her attempts to bury that part of herself under layers of professional detachment.
As she sipped her cocoa, her mind wandered to the Christmases she’d imagined for herself when she was younger. A house filled with laughter, children racing down the stairs at dawn to see what Santa had brought, a husband by her side watching their faces light up with wonder. She’d wanted that and had assumed it would happen naturally as she built her career.
But the years had slipped by, assignment after assignment, and somehow that dream had faded into the background. Not disappeared, she told herself, just…postponed. Until postponement began to feel like permanence.
Sorcha studied Christopher over the rim of her cup. There was something so solid about him, so present. The kind of man who would make an incredible father, patient, kind, and attentive. The thought formed before she could stop it… Was this why their paths had crossed? Had fate been saving her dream for this moment, this place, this man?
No. That was ridiculous. She was here for a couple of days to write an article, then she’d be gone. Moving on to the next assignment, the next town, the next step up the career ladder. That was her real dream. To write impactful articles that made a difference and changed lives. Not settling down in some picturesque mountain town with a man she’d just met, no matter how much he made her pulse quicken.
She set down her empty mug with more force than necessary, the ceramic clinking against the wooden table.
“I should get going,” she said, reaching for her notebook. “I need to stick to my schedule if I’m going to cover everything in the short time I’m here.”
Christopher nodded, wiping a napkin across his mouth. “Okay, what’s next on the agenda?”
Sorcha flipped open her leather-bound notebook. She really should switch to digital note-taking like her colleagues, but there was something about the feel of a pen on paper that helped her think. Her handwriting flowed across the page in practiced loops and slants.
“I was planning to visit the animal sanctuary,” she said, studying her itinerary.
For a moment, she nearly suggested he drop her back at the cabin so she could take her own car. Independence had always been her default. But then she glanced out the window at the snow-covered streets and reconsidered. Her car was a compact sedan with city tires, not exactly built for these conditions. She’d checked the weather forecast before leaving home, and there had been no mention of snow.
Maybe fate had stepped in, arranging this storm so she’d need Christopher’s help.
No, that was just her romanticizing again. The weather was just weather, not some cosmic matchmaking scheme.Still, the timing made her smile into her scarf.
“The animal sanctuary sounds perfect,” Christopher said, reaching for his wallet to pay the bill. “It’s about fifteen minutes from here, out past the old mill.”
“Great,” she replied, zipping up her coat. “Lead the way.”
They said goodbye to Ellie, who insisted they take a bag of freshly baked cookies “for the road,” and headed back out into the crisp winter air. The snow had stopped falling, leaving everything blanketed in a thin layer of pristine white.
