Chapter Five – Christopher
As they drove to Bear Creek Sanctuary after their sledding detour, Christopher mulled over what he’d learned about his mate over hot chocolate in the café. It wasn’t good.
As much as she seemed to be enjoying her stay in Bear Creek, she did not like small towns. He could respect that, but he still hoped to change her mind.
We need Sorcha to see that small-town life does not have to be…well…small, his bear said.
Christopher chuckled. Isn’t that the reason we moved here? To be small.
That’s different, his bear replied.
Is it? Christopher asked. We were running away. Only we were running in the opposite direction to our mate.
His bear grumbled, not liking to be reminded of their past life. One that had threatened to consume them.
One that they had left behind before it suffocated them.
“Are you okay?” she asked, her brow furrowed, and he blinked as he realized he’d zoned out while talking to his bear.
Christopher blinked again, forcing himself back to the present. “Yes.”
“It looked as if you had drifted off there for a moment,” she said, studying his face. “If you are too tired, we could head back to the cabin, and I can drive out here later.”
“No,” he insisted, straightening in his seat. “I’m fine, honestly. I was just thinking how good it is to get out and enjoy the season.”
Sorcha nodded, but her eyes remained questioning. “You don’t usually enjoy the festivities?”
He shook his head, his gaze returning to the snow-covered road stretching before them. “I don’t usually get too involved, apart from the tree in the town square. But others…” He let the words trail off, not sure how to explain.
Sorcha pressed her lips together, understanding softening her features. “It’s not fun taking part in family activities without a family,” she murmured.
“No,” he agreed, relieved that she understood what he was trying to say. “So, thanks for letting me tag along.”
“You’re very welcome,” Sorcha replied with a teasing tilt of her head. “I’ll invoice you in cookies. Or gingerbread.”
“A high price but one I am willing to pay,” he teased in return.
They fell silent as they continued the drive through the snowy scenery. Christopher felt oddly exposed, as if she’d seen through his carefully constructed walls to the loneliness beneath. Yet there was comfort in her understanding, in not having to explain further.
The sanctuary appeared ahead, a sprawling property bordered by split-rail fencing.
The main building was a rustic log structure with a wide porch, and smoke curling from its chimney against the winter sky.
Several paddocks stretched behind it, some containing animals that moved like shadows against the white backdrop.
They parked near the entrance and made their way toward the office. Christopher held the door for Sorcha, feeling the blast of warmth as they stepped inside. The interior smelled of wood polish and coffee, with photographs of rescued animals covering nearly every inch of wall space.
Bob looked up from the desk, his weathered face breaking into a smile as he recognized Christopher. He rose, adjusting his thick-framed glasses.
“Christopher! Good to see you,” Bob called, coming around to shake his hand. His gaze shifted curiously to Sorcha.
“Bob, this is Sorcha O’Neill,” Christopher said, stepping aside to make the introduction. “She’s visiting Bear Creek.”
Sorcha stepped forward with professional confidence in her posture. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m writing an article about seasonal attractions in Bear Creek, and would it be okay if I include the sanctuary, and particularly the reindeer feeding?”
Bob’s face lit up, his smile widening to reveal slightly crooked teeth.
“We would be honored,” he said, glancing between them.
Then his gaze settled on Christopher, a knowing look in his eyes that made Christopher’s neck warm.
“We could also arrange a sleigh ride, if Christopher would like to drive.”
Sorcha turned to Christopher, her eyebrows raised in surprise. “Sleigh driving is one of your many talents?”
Christopher ducked his head, suddenly finding the floor fascinating. “I might have driven a sleigh or two.”
Bob chuckled, clapping a hand on Christopher’s shoulder. “Christopher is being modest. He’s stood in for Santa’s sleigh driver once or twice in the town square.”
“You didn’t say,” Sorcha chastised him teasingly.
Christopher shrugged, not sure how to respond to the admiration in her gaze. His bear preened under her attention, urging him to show off more skills that might impress her. Such as shifting.
“Go and start the tour, feed the reindeer, and I’ll have the sleigh ready for when you’re done,” Bob said, already reaching for a set of keys hanging on the wall.
“Thanks, Bob,” Sorcha said. “Is it okay if I take photos?”
“As many as you like,” Bob replied, winking at Christopher as they turned to leave the office.
Christopher nodded and mouthed, “Thank you.”
Bob replied by silently mouthing back, “You are welcome.”
As they stepped outside, Christopher felt a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. He hadn’t driven a sleigh in years, and now he would be doing it with his mate beside him. His bear rumbled with satisfaction at the thought.
“So, sleigh driver,” Sorcha said, bumping her shoulder against his as they walked toward the reindeer enclosure. “Any other hidden talents I should know about?”
The playful contact sent warmth cascading through him. “A few,” he admitted, allowing himself a small smile. “But where’s the fun in revealing everything at once?”
She laughed, the sound carrying across the snow-covered grounds. “Fair enough. I do enjoy a good mystery. Especially the cozy kind. With cinnamon and happy endings.”
They approached the large paddock where the reindeer were kept. Several of the animals moved toward the fence, their breath forming clouds in the cold air, antlers branching impressively against the blue sky.
“They’re magnificent,” Sorcha breathed, already reaching for her camera.
Christopher watched her face as she took in the sight, captivated by the wonder in her expression.
He could see her professional demeanor softening, the reporter giving way to the woman beneath.
The one who had laughed with abandon while sledding, who had moaned with pleasure over pancakes and honey, who saw beauty in the world and wanted to share it.
His bear rumbled contentedly. This is what she needs. To see the joy in simple moments. In staying still.
“Ready to feed them?” he asked, reaching for the bucket of feed that hung on the fence post.
“Absolutely,” she replied, tucking her camera away and moving closer to him.
As he showed her how to hold her hand flat with the feed pellets, their fingers brushed. The contact sent that now-familiar electric current through him, and he wondered if she felt it too—this connection that seemed to strengthen with every passing hour.
A large reindeer approached, its dark eyes gentle as it extended its muzzle toward Sorcha’s outstretched hand. She held perfectly still as the animal’s lips tickled her palm, gathering the pellets with surprising delicacy.
“Oh!” she gasped softly, her face alight with childlike joy. “It’s so gentle.”
Christopher found himself smiling, his chest tight with emotion. This was what he wanted to show her, that there was magic in these quiet moments, these connections with places and creatures and people. That a life rooted in one spot could still be filled with wonder.
Behind them, he could hear the jingle of harness bells as Bob prepared the sleigh.
Soon, he would take Sorcha on a ride through the sanctuary’s trails, just the two of them gliding through the snow-covered forest. His bear stirred with anticipation, eager for the chance to impress their mate, to show her another side of himself.
But for now, he was content to watch her feed the reindeer, memorizing the way snowflakes caught in her copper hair, how her eyes crinkled at the corners when she smiled, the soft sounds of delight she made as the animals gently took food from her hand.
These were the moments worth staying for. Worth fighting for. And somehow, he had to make her see that too.
“All finished with the feeding?” Bob called from behind them. “The sleigh is ready when you are.”
Christopher turned to see the older man standing next to a polished wooden sleigh, its runners gleaming in the sunlight. Two reindeer stood in harness, their breath clouding in the cold air, bells jingling softly as they shifted.
“What do you think?” Christopher asked Sorcha, watching her eyes widen at the sight.
“It’s beautiful,” she breathed, already moving toward it. “Like something from a storybook.”
Christopher followed, puffing out his chest with pride. He’d helped Bob restore this sleigh last winter, sanding away years of neglect and repairing the worn leather seats. Now it gleamed like new, the dark wood polished to a high shine, the red velvet seat cushions bright against the snow.
“You two enjoy yourselves,” Bob said, handing Christopher the reins with a wink that made his neck flush hot despite the cold. “I’ve cleared it with the rangers. You can take the north trail through the gate if you want. It’s particularly beautiful this time of year.”
Christopher nodded his thanks as he helped Sorcha into the sleigh, steadying her with a hand at her elbow. Even through layers of winter clothing, that electric connection sparked between them, making his pulse quicken.
He settled beside her, tucking a thick wool blanket around their legs. The warmth of her thigh pressed against his own, sending a pleasant shiver through him that had nothing to do with the temperature.
“Ready?” he asked, his voice rougher than he’d intended.
She nodded, excitement brightening her eyes as she pulled her camera from her pocket. “I can’t believe this is happening.”