Chapter Thirteen – Kris
Kris lay flat on his back, eyes fixed on the ceiling, as he had been for most of the night. The kiss— her kiss—kept replaying in his mind. That light, soft touch on his cheek had stirred something deep inside.
Every time his thoughts circled back to that kiss, a tingling warmth spread out from where her lips had grazed him. As though the memory of her touch was seared into his very being.
You’re turning into a lovesick fool, his bear teased softly.
Maybe I am, Kris admitted. But I don’t care.
He let out a restless sigh as he adjusted his position. Staring at these four walls all night hadn’t brought him sleep, only an endless loop of Cassia’s face—and that ex-fiancé phone call that threatened everything.
He rolled onto his side and glanced at the clock on his nightstand, 4:13. Not that he’d need to look, his internal sense of time already told him it was close to dawn.
Useless, he thought. I’m never going to sleep. He swung his legs off the bed, standing in one fluid motion. No point fighting it.
Still can’t stop thinking about that kiss, his bear murmured, half-laughing. And that was just her cheek. Imagine if she’d gone for the lips…
Kris felt a twist of longing shoot through him. A man can dream, he answered wearily.
Oh boy, so can bears, his bear said with a dramatic sigh.
Kris raked a hand through his tousled hair, frustration battling with a flicker of amusement. You’re not helping. But deep down, he was thankful for his bear’s unwavering confidence that things would turn out all right between him and Cassia.
They have to, his bear added with equal confidence.
I hope you are right, Kris said as he quickly dressed in worn jeans and a T-shirt, plus a flannel to ward against the early chill.
Wearing only socks, he crept out of his room so as not to wake anyone else in the house. At this time in the morning, the house seemed too still, too quiet, and he held his breath as he made his way along the hallway and downstairs without a sound. In the kitchen, he set about making coffee, each familiar action bringing a measure of calm to his tumultuous thoughts.
Soon enough, the comforting aroma of fresh brew filled the room, and he poured a mug, then carried it to the doorway that opened onto the back porch. It was so peaceful, even the birds had not yet begun their dawn chorus.
He sipped the coffee in silent appreciation of the life he had here. A life he wanted to share with his mate. Surely, she could see how perfectly she fit here. Not just with him, but this place he called home.
We love this place, his bear said gently. Always have.
Kris nodded inwardly. Always will. There was so much history in these rows of vines, so many memories of him and his brothers growing up, and his parents. The flourish of fresh growth every spring, the golden leaves in fall, the satisfaction of harvest. The vineyard was his lifeblood, binding him to Bear Creek, and he’d never questioned whether this was where he belonged. But now…
If his mate chose to go back to her old life, her old love, would he ever feel the same sense of peace again?
Kris closed his eyes. He could see it so clearly, the future he craved. Their kids running free between the rows of vines, just as he and his brothers once had, their laughter echoing beneath the bright summer sky. Cassia at his side, her face alight with joy.
And love, his bear added.
But then the image blurred, turning cold and empty. The vines withered. The valley lay barren—like his heart would be if she chose to leave if she decided to go back to her ex. The thought felt like a punch to his stomach.
She won’t leave, his bear tried to assure him.
I wish I was as certain, Kris countered. Because if there was one thing he’d learned from last night, it was that Cassia’s heart was torn. She’d come here wanting a fresh start—maybe she still did. But her ex’s call had dragged her back to the cusp of the life she thought she wanted, once upon a time. No wonder she’s confused, Kris thought. What if she’s not ready for…me? For the truth about who I am?
He finished his coffee in a single gulp, ignoring the bitter sting on his tongue. The rest of the household would be up soon—his mom and dad never stayed in bed past dawn. But for a moment longer, Kris lingered, letting the scene before him calm his soul. As it always did.
But today was different. It was like he had an itch he could not scratch.
He pushed off the doorframe and stretched his arms above his head. No sense in moping. If he couldn’t fix Cassia’s heartbreak right now, at least he could throw himself into the day’s tasks. Maybe manual work would help him think.
And maybe today you’ll find a chance to tell her the truth about us, his bear rumbled hopefully.
You don’t think we should give her some space? Kris asked. The last thing I want to do is put pressure on her. Wasn’t that what we agreed?
It was, his bear said. But that kiss changed everything.
Kris’s mouth twitched in a wry grin. Always the optimist, he mused. Fine. Maybe that optimism was exactly what he needed.
He went back inside, set his mug on the counter, pulled on his work boots, then stepped outside into the first light of dawn. The air was cool, fresh with the promise of another summer day. Even though no one else was up, the vineyard itself felt alive, dew shimmering on the vine leaves. Kris inhaled slowly, letting the crisp oxygen fill his lungs. One foot in front of the other. That’s all we can do for now.
It’s what we’ve always done, his bear murmured, as if reading his anxious thoughts. And what we will always do.
Kris nodded silently, weaving between rows of vines. The ground was still damp from the night’s cooler temperatures, leaving faint footprints in his wake. He ran a hand along a loaded vine, noticing the slight sag in the wires. Not one to ever leave a job undone, Kris located a small toolbox from under a tarp, intending to fix the tension. A simple job, but at least it’d keep his hands busy and his mind from spiraling.
As he worked, he let the repetitive motion, the click of the wire ratchet, center him. For a few minutes, the day’s earlier turmoil eased. He was just Kris Thornberg, caretaker of these vines, a man with a vineyard to run and a dream to chase.
But every so often, a pang shot through his chest. Would Cassia walk these rows with me ever again, or was that wishful thinking?
He hammered a small stake deeper into the ground, the reverberation shaking up his arm. What if she can’t let go of him —Dante! A wave of frustration swept over Kris. The guy had cheated on Cassia. How dare he try to tempt her back with some half-baked apology?
But was Kris any better if he tried to bind her to him by telling her they were fated mates?
That’s not love, his bear said. Love means letting her choose.
Still, the idea of letting her go tightened a knot in his stomach. But there were other ways to make her stay, he resolved. I’ll show her a glimpse of her future here. I’ll show her what an incredible business we can build. Then, if she decides to go, at least I’ll know I tried.
He straightened, rolling his shoulders to loosen the stiff muscles. The sun had risen enough to cast a warm glow across the vines, and the day was already beginning to warm. Rubbing his hands on his jeans to dust off bits of dirt, he surveyed his work. This vineyard might be his home, but right now, it also felt like a stage, a place where everything he did or said might shape Cassia’s decision.
Stop overthinking, his bear grumbled. You’ve done what you can here. We have other tasks.
Kris exhaled. Right. The barn. He glanced over his shoulder at the old structure. They’d cleared some space inside already, but it still needed a serious overhaul. But he wanted to get rid of as much junk as possible before the contractor came.
He walked along the rows toward the barn’s wide doors, stepping inside the airy space. It certainly looked a whole lot better than this time yesterday, but there was still plenty to do.
All right, he muttered, scanning the mess. Time to roll up my sleeves.
And keep our mind from imagining the worst, his bear pointed out.
Exactly. Kris inhaled, letting the purposeful energy fill him.
He worked methodically, sweat prickling at his temples despite the morning chill. With each plank he shifted or stack of junk he hauled, he pictured how this barn could look in a few months—an intimate dining area, a tasting bar, possibly an open kitchen that Cassia was so excited about.
She was so excited about the project, he said with a pang.
And she still is, his bear replied.
You’d better be right. Kris grabbed a broom and started to sweep the uneven floor. Dust rose in lazy swirls, catching in the beams of sunlight.
He was so focused that the sound of footsteps outside the barn caught him by surprise. He paused, broom in mid-sweep, every sense going on alert. Then a familiar presence tugged at his awareness— Dad .
Kris set the broom aside and headed toward the door, a half-smile forming at the sight of his father’s broad figure approaching. Hugo carried two steaming mugs in one hand and a plate covered with foil in the other. He wore the same calm, but rugged expression Kris remembered from childhood mornings, back when his dad would wake early to check the vines.
“Morning,” Hugo greeted, stepping onto the barn’s threshold. His gaze flicked to the pile of junk Kris had stacked near the door. “Doing some cleaning, I see.”
Kris gave a small shrug, crossing to him. “Figured it needed doing.” He was about to add something else but caught the unmistakable aroma of pancakes coming from under the foil. “Are those…?”
Hugo lifted the plate slightly and inhaled deeply, a half-smile tugging at his mouth. “Your mom made a stack. Thought you could use some nourishment after an early start.”
“She thought right.” Kris wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans again, and Hugo handed him one of the mugs before setting the plate on a low table near the barn door. Kris removed the foil. Sure enough—there were pancakes, warm and fragrant, with butter and jam on the side.
“Thanks.” He took a breath, mouth watering. “This is…just what I needed.”
“That’s what your mom thought. And you know she is always right.” Hugo watched him for a moment, then gestured. “Wash up, son. I can wait. No sense eating dust with your pancakes.”
Right. Kris let out a small laugh, heading over to the outside tap attached to the barn’s side. He turned it on, cold water splashing onto his hands. It numbed his skin but felt refreshing after the dusty barn. As he rinsed, he took a moment to stare at the wide blue sky.
When the day is as beautiful as this, how can things not go our way? he asked his bear.
That’s the spirit! his bear said.
Once he dried off with a rag, he returned to where Hugo had pulled up one of the battered chairs. Kris opted to sit on a low wall near him, accepting the second mug. They sat in companionable silence as Kris dug into the pancakes, each bite sweet and comforting.
He was about halfway through when Hugo murmured. “You always chew too fast,” he observed, a note of concern in his voice.
Kris forced himself to slow down. “Just hungry,” he mumbled, taking a swig of coffee to wash it down.
Hugo gave him a sideways look. “Sure. But I suspect it’s not just an empty stomach that’s bugging you.”
Kris set the fork down, exhaling. He hated how easily his father read him. But he also craved the man’s solid wisdom. “Cassia got a call last night,” he admitted, voice subdued. “Her ex-fiancé, begging for another chance.”
Hugo nodded slowly, as though it confirmed his suspicions. “Mm-hmm. I figured something was on your mind. Since you rose before sunrise.”
“Sorry, if I woke you.” Kris raked a hand through his hair.
“I was already awake,” Hugo admitted. “So, share.”
Does he mean the pancakes or our woes? his bear asked forlornly.
“I’m not sure what to do, Dad. She’s torn. She left him because he cheated, but now he’s telling her he made a mistake. If she forgives him…” He let the thought trail off, the possibility of losing her like a stab in the heart. “I know I shouldn’t stand in her way, but…”
Hugo studied him for a moment, then let out a slow breath. “Son, you know your mother and I didn’t always have it so easy. Back before we were engaged, I nearly messed everything up. I was so busy trying to prove I could make a solid future for us that I neglected to show her how I felt. We had a near breakup because of it.”
Kris blinked. He’d heard bits and pieces of this story over the years, but never the full truth. “What happened?”
A faint smile curved Hugo’s lips. “We were dating, but I was too stubborn. Insisted on working dawn to dusk, trying to show your grandfather I could run the place. Meanwhile, your mom was back in town, feeling ignored. She started wondering if I really wanted her, or if the vineyard was my only priority.”
Kris’s bear rumbled softly in his mind. Sounds familiar, he noted.
Hugo continued, “She almost left for good. She packed a bag and told me she’d had enough if I couldn’t find time for her. I’d never been so terrified.” A nostalgic laugh escaped him. “So I hopped in the old truck—transmission squeaking like a dying cat—and raced after her. Ended up stalling out half a mile from her place. Ran the rest of the way on foot, panting like crazy. Showed up on her doorstep, sweaty and out of breath, begging her not to go. Told her the vineyard was my heritage, but she was my future.”
Kris raised an eyebrow, touched by the sincerity behind that last line. “And she forgave you?”
Hugo shrugged lightly. “She took some convincing, but in the end, yes. Because I proved it. After that, I made space in my life, balancing the vineyard with our relationship. She saw it wasn’t all talk. And we never looked back.”
Kris inhaled the story, letting it sink into the churn of his thoughts. “So you’re saying…what, exactly?”
Hugo gave Kris a steady look. “That you accept she might need time, especially with this ex-fiancé. But you also remember that you and she are meant to be. And you have to prove that to her. You have to win her heart. You have to show her there is no one else for her.”
Kris chewed on that. Show her. But how, when she was so conflicted?
By being there, consistently, his bear offered in a gentle tone.
Kris nodded, half to himself. “I guess you’re right.” He set the coffee aside and grabbed another small bite of pancake, though his appetite had waned under the swirl of emotions. “It’s just… I worry that she’s still hurting, and maybe she’s not ready to see what I want to show her, or…who I am. That might scare her off.”
Hugo clapped him on the shoulder. “One step at a time. You don’t have to lay all your cards on the table at once, but you also can’t hide them forever. Trust your instincts. You know, Cassia is the one. She’ll handle the truth, no matter how surprising.”
Kris’s bear let out a quiet hum of agreement. She is the one, he said with certainty. She just doesn’t know it yet.
Kris finished the last of the pancakes in silence, letting his father’s words roll through him. We just need to prove it, he echoed. Just like Dad did.