“No one is at first,” Eleanor replied simply. “It’s a skill like any other. It takes practice.”
They sat in silence for a moment, the steam from their mugs rising in gentle spirals between them. Outside the window, clouds drifted across the mountain peaks, their shadows flowing like water across the slopes, leaving Hannah feeling at peace.
“I wish I could be the kind of person who can let go and take a chance...” Hannah said, finally. “Everyone has been so kind. Especially Caleb. But I...”
“You’re protecting yourself,” Eleanor finished for her when she faltered. “There’s no shame in that, Hannah. No one here expects you to drop your guard overnight.”
The validation was so unexpected, so free of judgment, that Hannah felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. She blinked them back, unwilling to let her emotions show so plainly, even in this quiet moment of understanding.
“Belonging is a scary thing when you’re not used to it,” Eleanor continued, her voice gentle but matter-of-fact. “It doesn’t have to be decided today. Or tomorrow. You’re allowed to take things at your own pace.”
Hannah nodded, unable to speak past the tightness in her throat. Eleanor didn’t promise that staying would be safe, or that loving people wouldn’t hurt. She didn’t try to convince Hannah that her fears were unfounded. Instead, she simply acknowledged them as real and valid, offering understanding.
“Thank you,” Hannah managed finally. “For the tea. And for... the advice.”
“Of course,” Eleanor said, standing as if sensing Hannah’s need to reclaim her composure. “I should get back. But you take your time.”
Hannah sipped her tea, wishing she’d had a mom like Eleanor to offer guidance and advice. If she had, her life would be so different. She would be so different.
Wishing would not change the past. Or her.
But finding the courage to trust might.
Chapter Eighteen – Caleb
What a difference a day made. Yesterday, after the lunch shift, Caleb had felt on top of the world, confident he was on the right path to winning his mate.
Today, it felt as if he’d taken a wrong turn and was now wandering lost in the wilderness.
Hannah had kept her distance throughout the lunch service, polite but reserved, efficient but detached. Every time their paths crossed in the kitchen, he felt her retreat a little further behind those carefully constructed walls.
His bear paced restlessly.She’s slipping away from us.
I know,Caleb replied, the knowledge sitting like a stone in his chest.But what do I do to fix it?
I don’t know, but there has to be something,his bear replied.Some way of showing her that we understand.
How could he fully understand how she felt when he had not lived her life of uncertainty, of self-reliance? He could say the right things, empathize with her situation, but he would never truly understand what it was like to have no family or friends who would stand by you no matter what.
Who would be willing to drop everything and come to your aid? People who were steadfast and true.
We need to show her we are that person. For her,his bear said.
You’re right.Caleb rolled his shoulders and sighed.And I have the perfect way to show her.
Although his bear was not going to like it. Not one bit.
“Any news on your part?” he asked as he found Hannah carefully stacking the last of the dirty dishes in the dishwasher.
Hannah glanced up, her expression composed, but her eyes looked red as if she had been crying.
He’d never wanted to hold her, to offer all of himself, as much as he did in that moment.
“Roy called while I was on break,” she said, pressing her hand into the small of her back. “The part’s been located. But it’s going to take a couple of days at least to get here. Apparently, it has to be returned to the depot and then sent here.”
The words were simple, but Caleb heard the weight beneath them: she wanted to leave. Soon.
His bear rose up immediately, bristling with protective instinct.No. Not yet. We can’t let her go.
