“Welcome to the Sisterhood, Sylvie.”
CHAPTERTHIRTY-FIVE
Jon “Bear” Behr
Bear rolledinto Lyons early one afternoon when the aspen leaves were just beginning to turn golden. He’d driven right past the turnoff that led to his old friend, Sean’s ranch. Sean wasn’t there, would never be there again. He’d heard about Sean’s death of course, and it wounded him to the soul. Growing up, Sean had always been the funny one in their group of friends. He could make all of them practically piss themselves laughing over the stupidest shit.
Yeah, there was something about the friends you made as a kid. Back when the world was huge and you had yet to find your place in it, it was good to find your people, the ones who always made you laugh and had your back. Maybe that’s why Bear had loved being a Ranger so much—a second chance at that deep, good friendship that was so hard to find.
He pulled into the coffee shop parking lot overlooking the St. Vrain. Riversong had been there forever and he missed the taste of their coffee. Or, maybe it was the mountain air that always made it taste better. Probably both.
He stopped in for a to-go cup. The man behind the counter turned and Bear recognized him as the owner, though he was starting to get on in years. Sonny, he was pretty sure the man’s name was Sonny. Bear started to say hello when he realized Sonny didn’t recognize him.I’ve been gone that longhe thought. When Sonny looked him up and down and frowned, Bear self-consciously ran a hand through his shaggy hair. His beard was hardly better.Been a long time since I’ve had a trim, too.
“Hey, friend,” Bear said. “I’d like a large eye-opener, black, to go. Please.”
The man’s eyebrows rose. “Took that off the menu a while back, but I’m happy to make it for you. But if you don’t sleep for three days, that’s on you.” He turned and grabbed a jar of some high-octane, extra-caffeinated beans. After he ground them and started the espresso machine, he asked, “You from around here, or has it just been a while since you visited?”
Both. “Born here.”
Sonny poured black coffee into a large to-go cup and added the fresh triple shot of espresso, then turned to give Bear another look, trying to place him.
“Well, near here.” Bear scratched his beard. He didn’t really feel like going into details. He pulled a twenty out of his wallet and laid it on the counter instead.
“Mind letting me park my truck here for an hour? I’d like to go and pay my respects to the St. Vrain.”
Sonny nodded. “We aren’t too busy right now. Parking lot’s empty enough.” He set the near-lethally caffeinated coffee on the counter and pushed the twenty back toward Bear. “Parking’s free.”
Bear shook his head. “Keep the change. ’Preciate it.”
Sonny grabbed a slice of banana bread and set it next to the coffee. “Welcome home.”
Then, Bear took his coffee down to the river where he’d talk to Sean.
Bear grinned as he remembered the gang of boys he grew up with. They’d all loved the river. It was a place where they could run free like a pack of lost boys or wild animals. In fact, they’d given each other animal nicknames. Sean was Hawk, for the wounded hawk he’d nursed back to health one summer. With his last name, Bear’s nick was an obvious choice but his friends told him it fit his personality too—that he was big and quiet, preferring to mull things over before acting. But when roused, well, you didn’t want to fuck with him.
Out of all of them, Sean had loved the river the most. No surprise he’d become a Swick in the Navy where he could spend all his time messing around on boats. If Sean wasn’t home, you could find him somewhere along the river. So, that’s why Bear chose to come down to the St. Vrain before visiting Arden and paying his respects.
Bear got down to the river’s edge and sat cross-legged on a wide, flat stone. He sipped his coffee quietly and watched the water. Someone had stacked a pile of smooth rocks one atop the other so he focused on that and tried to bring back the feeling of being a kid, splashing in the water and laughing with his friends. They dared each other to do the craziest things, not a lick of sense among them. Bear grinned even as his heart felt like it was beating inside an iron box. Sean would laugh at him if he admitted to missing him that much.
“Sorry I wasn’t here sooner,” he whispered to the water, where a small school of minnows darted in the shadow of the big stone. “Sorry we didn’t get one last chance to say goodbye.”
A crackling noise got his attention and he looked down in time to see a squirrel attempting to open the plastic wrap around his slice of banana bread.
“Well, you’re a brave little cuss, aren’t you?”
The squirrel jumped back when Bear picked up the banana bread and watched him unwrap it. Bear broke off a piece and stretched out his hand.
“Here you go.”
The squirrel didn’t move. Bear laughed. “Oh, now you’re gonna be shy, huh? Come on, buddy, you can have it.”
Finally, the squirrel darted forward and grabbed the banana bread out of Bear’s hand. It quickly disappeared into his mouth and he scampered back onto the rock, begging for more, making Bear laugh again. He broke off another piece and offered it carefully. The squirrel took it, and like so many wild creatures Bear encountered, trusted him enough to let Bear run a careful finger down its fur.
“Holy shit, itisyou,” Bear heard from behind him as the startled squirrel ran up a tree. “St. Francis, friend to the animals.”
Without turning, Bear said, “Only assholes who want broken noses call me Francis.”
“Only your best friends know that’s your middle name, asshole.”
