Page 35 of Flare (Bearpaw Ridge Firefighters #17)
Celebration
The Swansons had gathered on the ranch to enjoy the perfect Labor Day weather with a barbecue party. The meadow next to the river was dotted with picnic tables, and colorful lawn chairs were set up along the riverbank, shaded by the enormous old cottonwood trees.
Emily sat with her feet in the water, taking a break from playing softball to cool off while Ward took his turn at the huge propane grills set up under a large catering tent nearby.
All around her, Swansons of every age gathered in laughing clusters—cooking, eating, playing horseshoes, or simply lounging like her in the warm September sunshine.
Four months ago, she could never have imagined feeling so completely at home among these bear shifters, yet now she couldn ’ t picture herself anywhere else.
“ More iced tea, dear?” Elle Swanson appeared at Emily ’ s side, pitcher in hand, her bobbed hair held back with a colorful elastic hairband.
The Swanson matriarch ’ s eyes crinkled warmly as she topped off Emily ’ s glass without waiting for an answer.
“ Thank you,” Emily said, smiling up at the woman who had welcomed her into the family fold with such immediate and unconditional affection. “ Everything is wonderful.”
“ Well, you just keep relaxing,” Elle instructed, patting Emily ’ s shoulder. “ You work too much. I ’ m glad to see you enjoying the last of the summer weather.”
As Elle moved on to refill other glasses, Emily settled back in her chair, marveling at how drastically her life had changed since that terrifying night she fled Spokane with nothing but a set of hastily packed suitcases and some purloined files.
The woman who ’ d arrived in Bearpaw Ridge four months ago would hardly recognize the Emily Clarke who sat here today.
She no longer second-guessed her every word and action, or worried that she wasn ’ t good enough for the people in her life. Her nightmares about Andrew had stopped after she had seen him bloodied and on the verge of death after she ’ d fought him off.
The set of long, parallel scars on her arm had now faded to thin pink lines. They reminded her how much she owed Ward and his insistence on training her in self-defense.
Across the lawn, she spotted him at the grill, laughing at something his cousin Mitya had said while flipping burgers with practiced ease. His plain gray t-shirt stretched across his chest, and she admired his bare, muscled arms.
Watching him move with such ease and confidence, no one would guess how close he ’ d come to death last spring. Only she knew, reminded by the scars she saw every night when he was naked and in bed with her.
Emily ’ s gaze drifted to the cluster of volunteer firefighters gathered near the horseshoe pit.
Maggie waved enthusiastically when she caught Emily ’ s eye, and several others raised their beer bottles in friendly greeting.
Over the summer, she ’ d started training as a part-time volunteer dispatcher through the county. Her certification would be wrapped up by early December, just in time to take panicked holiday calls about turkey fires and burning Christmas trees.
To her own surprise, she was pretty good at handling 911 calls. Apparently, her years of soothing temperamental executives—not to mention a scary bear shifter in a business suit—had trained her for a second career in emergency management.
Who knew that handling Andrew ’ s mood swings would prepare me for triaging wildfires and accidents?
“ There ’ s my partner in crime,” Ward said, appearing suddenly beside her chair. He handed her a paper plate with a cheeseburger, fixed just the way she liked it, on a brioche bun with lettuce and tomato but no raw onions. He bent to kiss her temple. “ Having fun?”
“ I ’ m having a great time,” Emily replied, reaching up to stroke his bearded cheek. “ Your grandmother seems determined to fatten me up, though.”
Ward laughed, dropping into the empty chair beside her. “ Grandma Elle believes no problem exists that can ’ t be solved with food. It ’ s the bear shifter way.”
“ I ’ m not complaining.” Emily took a bite of her burger. “ Oh, yum,” she exclaimed when she ’ d chewed and swallowed.
Ward beamed down at her.
“ Oh, and our website just got another order fifteen minutes ago. Someone in Seattle wants one of your custom dining tables—Douglas fir, live edge, seats ten.”
Ward ’ s eyes lit up. “ That ’ s the third order this week.”
Emily grinned at him, feeling a pleasant glow of pride.
Ward ’ s carpentry business had exploded since she ’ d built him a website showcasing his stunning handcrafted furniture, with online ordering integrated with his new business software.
These days, she handled all the marketing, scheduling, and client communications for Swanson Custom Woodworks while he focused on what he did best—creating beautiful, functional art from wood.
He ’ d promoted her to full partner back in July, and his sister Ellie had drawn up the official paperwork giving Emily a fifty percent share in the business.
She still worked at Cinnamon + Sugar part time, but with Maggie ’ s invoicing, ordering, and receipts now handled by the same software that Ward ’ s business used, the bakery really didn ’ t need a full-time office manager anymore.
“ I still can ’ t believe how that black walnut wedding-gift table turned out,” Emily said. “ Yasmin ’ s thank-you note made me cry.”
“ We make a good team,” Ward said. “ I ’ d never have finished my kitchen reno if it weren ’ t for you.”
Two weeks ago, Ward had finally completed the kitchen, transforming the outdated space into something both beautiful and practical.
Every morning now, she drank her coffee at the reclaimed wood breakfast bar he ’ d built especially for her.
There was only one cloud still hanging over her new life. Last month, she ’ d received an envelope embossed with the seal of the U.S. Department of Justice.
Andrew Brunborn had eventually recovered from his gunshot wounds and now awaited trial in Spokane, along with the rest of his family. The Brunborn criminal enterprise had crumbled once federal investigators got their hands on the files Emily had copied from Andrew ’ s PC.
She was scheduled to give her deposition in three weeks. The Brunborn trial loomed as the last hurdle before she could truly close that chapter of her life. One day at a time , she reminded herself. And Ward would be there at her side if she were called to testify at the trial itself.
Several happy hours later, Emily and Ward sat on Elle ’ s porch swing, watching the spectacular sunset paint the sky above the mountains with brilliant streaks of orange and gold.
In the distance, the sounds of the Labor Day celebration continued—laughter, music, the clinking of bottles and silverware.
“ Beautiful sunset,” she said. “ Thanks for suggesting we watch it from here.”
Ward cleared his throat. She turned to him.
Something in his posture caught her attention—a slight stiffness in his shoulders, an unusual tension around his normally relaxed mouth. His fingers drummed lightly against the porch swing ’ s wooden armrest.
Is he… nervous?
“ Everything okay?” she asked.
Ward ’ s hazel eyes met hers with an intensity that made her breath catch. “ More than okay,” he said, taking her hands in his. “ Just thinking about how much has changed for the better since you came back to Bearpaw Ridge.” He paused. “ Emily, I need to tell you something.”
She waited, watching the play of emotions across his face—nervousness, determination, and something deeper that made her heart race.
“ I love you,” he said, his voice low and certain.
“ More than I ever thought was possible to love someone. These past few months have made me happier than I ’ ve ever been in my life.
Waking up beside you every morning, working together, building something that belongs to both of us—it ’ s everything I never knew I wanted until you walked back into my life. ”
Emily felt breathless with emotion. “ Ward, I—”
“ Please,” he begged, “ let me finish before I lose my nerve.”
She nodded and took his hand.
“ When you first came to Bearpaw Ridge, you were running from something terrible. I wanted to protect you, to make you feel safe. But somewhere along the way, I realized you were doing the same for me. You protect my heart, Emily. You make me feel like the luckiest man alive, just by choosing to be with me each day.”
Emily ’ s vision blurred. Tears began running down her cheeks, but she made no move to wipe them away.
She had something she needed to say to him first. “ When you look at me, you make me feel like I ’ m the most important thing in your world.
Like I matter , not for what I can do or who I can be for you, but just for being me.
I can ’ t believe how lucky I am to have found someone like you, so thoughtful and loving. ”
Ward drew her close, his lips finding hers in a tender kiss. When he pulled back, his eyes shimmered with emotion. Then, to Emily ’ s astonishment, he rose from the porch swing and lowered himself to one knee before her.
“ Ward?” Her heart pounded.
He withdrew a small wooden box from his jacket pocket. Emily recognized his handiwork immediately—the intricate geometric design made from assorted woods and mother-of-pearl inlaid on the top and sides, the perfectly fitted lid, the small silver hinge.
“ I made this for you,” he said, his voice steady despite the flush creeping up his neck. “ To hold this.”
He flipped open the lid, revealing a ring nestled on a cushion of deep blue velvet. The band was rose gold, delicate yet substantial, set with a golden topaz that caught the fading light and glowed like his bear-shape ’ s eyes.
“ My birthstone,” Emily whispered, fresh tears blurring her vision.
Ward nodded. “ I remember you said you didn ’ t like diamonds. So, I found something as warm and golden as you are.”
Emily couldn ’ t speak, her throat tight with emotion as Ward took her left hand in his.
“ Emily Clarke,” he said, his voice clear and strong despite the vulnerability in his eyes, “ I love you with everything I am. My heart, my bear, every part of me belongs to you. Will you marry me? Will you be my mate and spend the rest of our lives together?”
“ Yes,” Emily managed, her voice breaking on the single syllable. “ Yes, Ward Swanson. Yes to all of it. I love you so much.”
Joy exploded across Ward ’ s face as he slipped the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly. Emily threw her arms around his neck as he rose to his feet. She buried her face against his chest as happy sobs shook her body.
Ward held her tightly, his own breath coming in unsteady hitches that told her he was fighting back tears of his own.
“ I love you,” she repeated against his neck. “ I want to be with you forever.”
They stood wrapped in each other ’ s arms as the last light faded from the sky, existing in a perfect bubble of happiness. Finally, Ward pulled back just enough to kiss her again, this time with a certainty and passion that left her breathless.
“ Should we go tell everyone?” he asked, resting his forehead against hers.
Emily nodded, eager to share their good news. Hand in hand, they descended the porch steps and made their way back to the meadow where the party continued, now illuminated by strings of Edison bulbs that gave everything a warm, golden glow.
As they approached the main gathering, Emily noticed a sudden hush fall over the crowd. Then Mark Swanson ’ s voice boomed out: “ Well, son? Did she say yes?”
Ward lifted their joined hands, Emily ’ s ring catching the light. “ She did!”
The eruption of cheers was deafening. Emily found herself swept into a whirlwind of hugs, kisses, and congratulations.
Ward ’ s mom, Caitlyn, enveloped her in a tearful embrace, murmuring, “ Welcome to the family, sweetie. I hope you ’ ll call me Mom.”
Then Emily spotted something that made her gasp in surprise. Suspended between two trees was a handmade banner: “ CONGRATULATIONS, WARD & EMILY!”
“ How did they know?” Emily asked, turning to Ward with widened eyes.
He grinned, the flush on his cheeks deepening. “ I might have mentioned that I was going to ask you today.”
“ We ’ ve been waiting all afternoon for him to pop the question!” Maggie called out, pushing through the crowd to catch Emily in a hug. “ I thought Eddie was going to chicken out on us!”
Emily felt overwhelmed by the realization that the entire Swanson clan had been waiting to welcome her into their family officially.
These people had taken her in when she had no one, had protected her, supported her, and loved her without reservation. She was honored beyond belief to become one of them.
“ And now,” Maggie announced, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes, “ the newly engaged couple should cut their cake!”
She gestured toward a table where a beautiful creation stood waiting.
Two tiers of vanilla buttercream were decorated with tiny fondant teddy bears holding paws around the perimeter.
On top, a larger pair of bears—one dark brown, one golden blonde—sat side by side, miniature hearts floating above their heads.
“ Oh, Maggie,” Emily breathed, “ it ’ s perfect.”
Ward slipped his arm around Emily ’ s waist as they approached the cake together. All around them, the Swanson family gathered close, their faces alight with genuine happiness for the couple.
As Ward handed her the knife and covered her hand with his to make the first cut, Emily was struck by the absolute rightness of the moment.
This was what she ’ d been searching for her entire life without even knowing it—not just love, but belonging. A place where she was valued, protected, and cherished for exactly who she was.
The first slice revealed layers of golden lemon cake and raspberry filling—Emily ’ s favorite. As everyone cheered and Elle began distributing plates, Emily looked up at Ward, at the man who had changed her life in ways she was still discovering.
“ Thank you,” she whispered, knowing he would understand all that those two simple words contained.
Ward ’ s eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled down at her. “ Thank you for saying yes,” he replied and leaned down to kiss her.