We walked in companionable silence for a few more minutes, passing cabins of various sizes. Some were small. Others were larger, with sprawling porches and second stories designed with the hope that, someday, families would fill the rooms. That hope had been fading for years. Lately, however, a few sparks had rekindled it.
We rounded a bend, and a wooden jewel box of a cabin came into view. Several of its windows sported stained glass. Smokecurled from the chimney, and gingerbread trim decorated the eaves. A man with a thick head of gray hair sat whittling in a rocking chair on the porch. Sunlight flashed on the blade as he worked, turning a piece of wood in his hands.
“Who is that?” Charlotte whispered, slowing.
“Dmitri Galkin,” I said, not bothering to lower my voice. Dmitri had probably heard our approach half a mile ago. “He’s one of our elders.”
“Can we say hello?”
Charlotte had no way of knowing Dmitri had already invited her onto his property by showing himself.
“Of course,” I said. “I’m sure he’d love to meet you.”
Dmitri looked up as we neared the porch, his weathered face creasing in a smile. He was nearing ninety, but his shoulders were still broad, his body maintained by the shifter healing that kept us healthier longer than humans.
“Alpha,” he said, pausing his knife. He looked at Charlotte. “And you must be Ms. Mills, the scientist.”
Charlotte returned his smile. “Please, call me Charlotte.” She gestured to the block of wood he’d carved into a detailed bear. “That’s beautiful.”
“It keeps my old hands busy,” Dmitri said. He waved Charlotte toward a second rocking chair. “Please, have a seat.”
Charlotte settled in the chair, and I leaned against the porch railing.
“Your home is lovely,” Charlotte said, eyeing one of the intricately carved spindles, which bore the same chisel marks as the bear Dmitri held. “Did you build it?”
Dmitri beamed at her. “Every plank. Bear Cove has been my home for eighty-nine years.”
Charlotte glanced at me. “Beck was just explaining how the community works. It sounds like a good place to live.”
“It is,” Dmitri said. “Quiet and safe.” He returned to his whittling, scraping the edge of his blade against the wood. “You’re Beck’s mate.”
I suppressed a groan. Dmitri always spoke his mind. There was no telling what the old bear would say.
Charlotte shot me another quick look, a little frown between her brows. “Dr. Laskin says we’re compatible.”
Dmitri continued carving, a curl of wood descending from the bear. “I had a wife once. Not a mate. She wasn’t a match, but we didn’t know it when we married. No blood tests back then. Just time and luck.”
Sympathy filled Charlotte’s eyes. “Did she know you were a bear shifter?”
“Oh, yes.” Dmitri pushed against the ground, setting his chair rocking a little. “My Lori knew all my secrets.” He smiled without lifting his gaze. “You couldn’t keep anything from that woman. We tried for children, but it never happened. She told me it didn’t matter, but time changed her mind.”
I gripped the railing. Knowing the story didn’t make it any easier to hear.
“We were in our late thirties when she left,” Dmitri said. “She had a sister down in Oregon. Lori told me she couldn’t read another letter about all the things her niece and nephew were doing.” Dmitri looked up, his knife stilling on the carving. “She couldn’t watch another woman have what she wanted. So she left to find someone who could give her a family.”
Charlotte had gone still. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Dmitri said. “It was a very long time ago now. Lori passed on years ago, but her grandkids still send me Christmas cards.” He huffed a soft laugh. “Knowing Lori, she wrote that into her will.”
“Do they know what you are?” Charlotte asked.
He shook his head. “They think I’m an old friend.” He held up the bear, turning it in the sunlight as he examined it. “Love is risk. You never know what it’ll bring. Joy. Pain. Sometimes both. But I don’t regret loving Lori.”
Wind rustled nearby leaves. The breeze tugged at Charlotte’s hair, toying with the bright strands.
Dmitri went back to whittling. “This is never going to be perfect,” he muttered, frowning at the piece.
“We should go,” I said, straightening from the railing.
