Chapter Eleven – Christopher
Deflated. That was how Christopher felt as he watched Sorcha drive away.
Dumped, might be a more appropriate word, his bear said miserably.
How can we be dumped when Sorcha never knew we were mates in the first place? Christopher asked. And with her leaving town so soon, she might never know. Christopher’s chest tightened at the thought, a dull ache spreading under his ribs like frost cracking through wood.
Follow her, his bear urged, the words rumbling low in his mind.
But chasing after her now would only push her further away. She’d made it clear she didn’t want company for this skating trip, even though he’d expressed obvious interest.
Obvious interest in ice skating, his bear said. But not her.
We nearly kissed, Christopher countered. How much more obvious can a man be?
An actual kiss, his bear huffed. However, they both knew that would have been a step too far. He needed her to close the space between them. Because only then would he know that she wanted him. Wanted them.
To her, yesterday had probably been nothing special.
She’d probably seen it as just another local buttering up a journalist for good press.
Everywhere she traveled, people likely did the same, parading their town’s best spots in hopes of glowing words that drew more visitors.
She probably figured he’d tagged along just to score a favorable mention for the cabins, to pull in more guests.
His bear let out a miserable huff at that.
Yeah, you’re probably right. I need to be more obvious in my feelings toward her, Christopher admitted.
An admission that sat heavy in his gut as he felt the bond between them stretching thinner with every mile she drove, like a thread pulled taut and fraying at the edges.
What would happen when she left for good?
Would that connection snap clean through, leaving nothing but a raw, empty tear in his soul?
“Christopher!” Gretel’s voice cut through the chill morning air, pulling him back as she trudged toward the office, her boots crunching on the packed snow.
He waved, forcing a smile that felt stiff on his face, and headed her way. “Morning.”
“Wow, you look like Santa skipped right over your chimney,” she said, eyeing him with that sharp gaze of hers.
He shrugged, the motion dragging through him like lead. “Something like that.”
“Come on, let’s brew up some fresh coffee, and you can spill it,” Gretel said, pushing open the office door and stepping inside, the bell jingling behind her.
“Not much to tell,” he muttered, following her into the familiar surroundings, but it did little to ease the knot in his stomach.
“That bad, huh?” She bustled over to the coffee maker, scooping grounds into the filter with practiced flicks of her wrist.
“Couldn’t be worse,” he admitted, moving to the fireplace. He kneeled and poked at the embers, the faint heat warming his fingers as he added kindling. The dry twigs caught with a crackle, flames licking up until the glow turned cherry-red, chasing some of the cold from his bones.
Gretel switched on the coffee maker, the machine gurgling to life. “This about Sorcha?”
He nodded, not looking up from the fire, the flames blurring a little in his vision. How did Gretel always know? Probably from years of watching folks come and go through these cabins, picking up on the tells like she did with leaky faucets or drafty windows.
She poured two mugs when the pot finished, handing him one that steamed with that strong, bitter aroma he usually craved. Today, it just smelled like another lonely day. “Sit,” she said, nodding to the desk chair.
He took the mug, wrapping his hands around its warmth, and dropped into the seat. The steam rose in wisps, carrying the scent up to his nose as he took a sip, the heat scalding his tongue just enough to ground him.
Gretel leaned against the desk, cradling her own mug. “So, she drove off alone this morning? After you two spent all yesterday together?”
Christopher couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips as a montage of yesterday’s memories played in his mind. “It was…perfect. I showed her the town, the sanctuary. We went sledding. I even made her dinner.”
“And?”
“And nothing,” Christopher sighed. “We almost…there was a moment…but she pulled away. Made an excuse to leave.”
Gretel set her mug down with a decisive click. “Sounds to me like she’s scared.”
Christopher looked up, surprise cutting through his misery. “Scared? Of what?”
“Of feeling something real,” Gretel said simply. “Of finding a reason to stay when she’s built her whole identity around leaving.”
As the words sank in, something stirred inside him. Something that felt dangerously like hope.
His bear perked up, interested. We need to go after her.
“That bear of yours talking some sense into you?” Gretel asked with a raised eyebrow.
Christopher nodded, feeling a spark of determination ignite in his chest. “He says we need to go after her.”
“And he’s right,” Gretel said, setting her mug down with a firm tap. “You need to find her and win her heart and make her stay.”
Christopher ran a hand through his hair. “You make it sound so simple.”
“Love is simple,” Gretel said wistfully, her eyes distant with memories. “We’re just mighty good at making it complicated.”
Christopher considered this, turning the words over in his mind. Maybe she was right. Maybe he was overthinking everything.
“So, you’re telling me to keep it simple?” he asked.
“Should be easy for a man like you,” Gretel chuckled, the lines around her eyes crinkling.
Christopher shook his head and grinned. “Thanks.” He placed his cup on the desk and then leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. “You always did give the best advice.”
Gretel chuckled. “Isn’t that why you stayed?”
“It is,” Christopher said with a nod, smiling at the memory.
Yes, all those years ago, he’d arrived in Bear Creek lost and alone…But he’d found good friends and a simple life, one he loved, one he wanted to share with his mate.
His bear surged with renewed purpose, and Christopher felt his own resolve hardening. He wasn’t going to let Sorcha drive away from Bear Creek, from him, without at least trying.
He went outside and hurried to his truck, skidding on a patch of ice. He righted himself with a muttered curse and then climbed into his truck, starting the engine. The familiar rumble vibrated through the seat as he backed out, his mind racing ahead to what he might say when he found her.
He drove away, taking care on the icy roads as he headed toward town. As he drove, he tried to formulate a plan. But after a few moments of circular thinking, he decided to wing it. If fate had a hand in this, it would guide him.
As he got nearer to town, the sense of Sorcha grew stronger. He was getting closer. Then he realized that it wasn’t just him getting closer to her, but she was getting closer to him. The bond between them seemed to pulse and strengthen with each mile.
Then, sure enough, he rounded a bend and there was her car, coming toward him. She slowed, he slowed, and they stopped side by side on the narrow road, facing opposite directions.
She rolled down her window, her copper hair catching the winter sunlight.
Play it cool, his bear warned.
Don’t I always? he told his bear, even as his heart hammered against his ribs fit to burst out.
“Hi there,” Sorcha said, her cheeks flushed from the cold…or maybe something else. He hoped with everything in him that he was that something else.
“Hi,” Christopher replied, leaning an elbow on the door. “How was ice skating?”
She hesitated, her eyes dropping briefly before meeting his again. “It would have been better with company.”
Christopher lost his cool completely and cracked a grin, unable to hide his delight. “I wish I could have been there.”
“So do I,” she said, and then blushed a deeper shade of pink that had nothing to do with the winter air.
Damn, she’d never looked more beautiful.
“I was actually heading back to find you,” she admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I…I don’t know what happened this morning or last night… I guess I got scared.”
Christopher’s bear practically purred with satisfaction. “Scared of what?” he murmured, though he was certain he already knew the answer.
“Of how easy it is to be with you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Of how right it feels. I’ve spent my whole life leaving places, and suddenly all I can think about is staying…at least for another night or two.”
The words sent a bolt of hope through Christopher so intense it was almost painful. He wanted to reach through the window and pull her into his arms, to show her exactly how right they could be together.
Two more nights. She hadn’t promised him forever. But he’d take whatever he could get and make every second count. And maybe, just maybe, turn those two borrowed nights into the start of forever.