Bell was here. Not outside in the backyard yelling at me about how she didn’t need protection. But here in my house. Sitting at the kitchen table, I’d just finished refurbishing by hand.
“I can’t get over how much work you’ve managed to get done here.” She glanced around the space I’d renovated over the past few weeks, taking it in. “You’ve turned this falling-down house into a beautiful home.”
My face heated at the compliment. “Thanks.” I knew I was supposed to say something else. Zion always managed to segue from a compliment into a story or a compliment back.
But all I could come up with was, “Boone helped. What do you take in your coffee?”
“Black, with sugar,” she answered. “Like, an embarrassing amount of sugar.”
She laughed. And I didn’t realize I was probably supposed to laugh too until I was halfway through making the coffee.
Ursa dammit.
But she seemed okay with doing the heavy lifting of the conversation. “I’m surprised you had enough time to fix up the house. Zion mentioned that Holly’s and Noelle’s first mauls have had you running all over town doing stuff for the Christmas in July festival.”
It took me an unnaturally long time to come up with, “Yeah. Lot of work.”
“But you like work, right?” she guessed. “You like keeping busy and doing for others? That’s why you became a Mountie, so that you could look out for the whole town?”
I was jolted by her accurate read. She’d been listening, paying attention to me. Even though I’d barely said more than a few words to her since the last time she came to my house.
I kept trying to wrap my head around what Zion said about Bell “struggling with low self-worth.” But I once again had trouble seeing how she didn’t see what I saw when I assessed her. Not only was she beautiful, she was talented, easy to get along with—even if you were Boone. And her observation just confirmed what I’d suspected during our walks with Zion. She was a good listener.
“I inherited the job. My birth father and his birth father were also RCMP. But yeah, I liked it—still like helping others when I can.” The knot in my chest loosened, and I sat down at the table with her with my own cup of coffee. I told her about all the work I’d been doing for the town—building booths, fixing the stage for the pageant, organizing logistics.
While skirting around the topic of why Zion and I had taken an overnight trip to Bear Mountain a couple of days ago.
She seemed genuinely interested in the topic and kept asking follow-up questions.
This was the longest conversation we’d had since the fight.
We talked about the festival, about how Bear Mountain came together for events like this. It was... nice. Normal. I started to relax.
Then Bell set down her coffee cup.
“You were right,” she said quietly.
“Right?” I repeated, not quite understanding.
“About me needing help when I came here.” Her voice got stronger. “It’s hard for me to admit, but I’m feeling healed. Truly healed. And that’s because of all of you. Thank you. I don’t think I can ever thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me.”
My chest tightened with all the things I wished I could say to her. I wanted so badly to come around the table and hold her to my chest, like Zion got to do last night when he comforted her after the nightmare. I settled for, “You’re welcome.”
But then she said, “However, I’m good now.”
She tipped her head down, like she was a totally reasonable person and just dealing it to me straight. “I don’t need an overnight sentry inside or outside my house, so I’m here to tell you I’m no longer going to allow it. I need to get back to standing on my own two feet, without constant vigil, and I need you to respect that. But I know Zion and Boone won’t back off until you say it’s okay, being the first maul and all. That’s why I’m here.”
My heart shuttered. So that was what this was all about. Buttering me up so I’d go back on my protection order.
“You think you’re ready?” My jaw tightened.
She nodded. “I know I’m ready.”
“Good,” I said. “Then show me.”
I stood up and went to the drawer in the small kitchen island to grab the present I’d been holding off on giving her since she’d worried out loud about paying me back. A brand-new GoNoTo phone.
“This is for you. I’ve already programmed Noelle’s and Holly’s numbers into it, along with mine, Boone’s, and Zion’s.” I placed the box with the phone and its charger on the table. “So, there’s nothing stopping you from calling your daughters now. Telling them you’re here.”
