Page 10 of Grumpy Bear (Return To Fate Mountain #4)
Chapter
Nine
The modest home belonging to Max and Laney Bock was tucked directly behind the Fate Mountain Brewery. Cedar siding weathered to a silver-gray complemented the sturdy stone foundation. A small front porch held two handcrafted rocking chairs and potted plants.
Henry pulled up next to Ivy’s already parked vehicle, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel. Social visits ranked at the bottom of his preferred activities. He mentally rehearsed three different exit strategies. Forest service emergency. Reports due by sunset. Sudden stomach illness.
He sat in his truck for several minutes, watching the house. His bear continued to push forward, drawn to the yellow SUV and what it represented. Henry exhaled slowly, mastering the urge before climbing out and approaching the front door.
Laney Bock answered his knock, a bright-eyed infant perched on her hip. “You must be Henry,” she said, stepping back to let him enter. “Ivy told us you might join us. Please come in. This is Sophia.”
The baby stared at Henry with round, curious eyes. Her tiny fingers clutched her mother’s shirt as she studied the large man on her doorstep.
“Thanks,” Henry managed, entering the warmth of the house.
The interior smelled of fresh bread and brewing hops. Ivy sat at a large wooden table with Max Bock, deep in conversation that halted when Henry entered. Her face lit up at the sight of him, sending an unwelcome warmth through his chest.
Max stood and extended his hand. “Good to meet you, Henry. Beer? Fresh batch of our Grizzly IPA just tapped this morning.”
“Water is fine,” Henry replied, accepting the handshake.
“Suit yourself. Your brothers Logan and Mason stop by pretty regularly. Good men,” Max said, moving toward the kitchen. “They mentioned you work with the forest service.”
Henry nodded, remaining near the door while Ivy resumed her animated conversation with Laney about the nature center. He watched how easily she navigated the social interaction, asking about Laney’s work, complimenting the home’s botanical prints, inquiring about the baby’s development.
Henry stood awkwardly, taking the water Max offered him but not sitting until Laney gestured insistently toward an empty chair beside Ivy. Even then, he perched on the edge, ready for quick escape.
Throughout the conversation, he noticed little Sophia watching him. Her tiny face scrunched in concentration, studying him as if he presented a fascinating puzzle.
“She can’t take her eyes off you,” Laney commented, adjusting the baby on her lap.
Henry grunted in response, unsure what to make of the infant’s attention. Children rarely factored into his isolated existence.
The moment shifted unexpectedly when Sophia suddenly lunged toward him, small arms outstretched, surprising everyone at the table.
“Oh my,” Laney said, struggling to hold the squirming baby. “She wants to go to you.” She hesitated, then asked, “Would you mind holding her for a moment? I need to use the restroom.”
Panic flashed through Henry. Hold the baby? He opened his mouth to refuse, but Sophia reached for him again with such determination that his bear instinct responded despite his human reluctance.
“I... sure,” he said, arms extending woodenly.
Laney transferred the baby, and Henry held her with excessive caution, as if handling an unexploded landmine.
Everyone watched with amusement. Sophia settled immediately against his chest, one tiny hand reaching up to grasp his beard.
Her fingers tugged the coarse hair, and she giggled at his responding wince.
“She likes you,” Max said, taking a sip of his beer.
An unexpected warmth spread through Henry’s chest as the tiny human examined him without judgment or expectation. Her trust came free of the social complications that plagued adult interactions. He relaxed slightly, his large hand supporting her back with surprising gentleness.
Ivy watched with a smile that made Henry both uncomfortable and pleased, her eyes soft with something he could not identify but which sparked an answering warmth in his chest. When Laney returned, she reclaimed her daughter.
“We wanted to ask you both about some issues we’ve encountered at the nature center construction site,” Ivy said.
Henry added his observations about the wildlife corridor sabotage, his voice dropping. “Someone placed barriers to redirect animal movement away from their natural patterns,” he said. “Trip wires at deer-leg height. Branch blockages at key crossing points.”
“That sounds like targeted ecological disruption. What species were affected most?” Laney said.
“Black-tailed deer initially,” Henry replied, suddenly finding the conversation easier now that it centered on wildlife rather than social niceties. “But also elk herds that move through the eastern ridge. Turkey flocks. Even predator paths.”
“Reminds me of what happened to us last year,” Max said, leaning forward. “A scam water filter company deliberately contaminated our water source with unknown chemicals. Law Enforcement still doesn’t know who funded them.”
“My brother Ash and his mate Eliana experienced something similar at Hampton Orchard,” Ivy said.
“Someone set fires along the property line during the driest part of summer. They caught a few people. Info tech at the institute examined one of their phones. We knew from the beginning they were working for a larger organization.”
Henry frowned, memories surfacing. “That summer we had three unexplained forest fires on the north ridge set by the same arsonists.” His jaw tightened. “The Wilderness Academy had issues too. Equipment sabotage. Cut climbing ropes during a charity climb.”
Henry’s jaw tightened, his ranger instincts connecting threads between the incidents. “There’s clearly a pattern here,” he said, his voice low but firm. “Someone’s systematically targeting key resources across Fate Mountain.”
“Not just resources,” Ivy added, leaning forward. “Educational facilities, conservation efforts, sustainable businesses. Anything that promotes balanced use of the mountain while preserving its natural state.”
Max nodded grimly. “Whoever’s behind this knows the mountain intimately. These aren’t random acts.”
“They’re trying to undermine our community’s connection to the land,” Laney said, cradling Sophia closer as if the thought itself threatened her child.
Henry looked at the baby, then at Ivy, something resolving within him. “It’s clear we need to protect the nature center,” he said.
As they prepared to leave, Henry found himself thanking Max and Laney with unexpected sincerity.
As they stood on the porch, the late afternoon sun caught in Ivy’s curls, turning them a warm copper gold. Henry found himself watching the play of sunlight through her hair, momentarily mesmerized.
“So,” Ivy said, breaking the silence. “The nature center crew is having a small gathering at the brewery tonight.” She gestured toward the main brewery building just yards away. “Nothing fancy, just a chance to unwind after the stress of the scaffolding collapse.”
Henry’s body tensed instantly. His planned evening of solitude vanished like morning mist under summer sun. “I should get back to the cabin. Reports to file.”
“Of course,” Ivy replied. “I just thought... sometimes people talk more freely over beer. We might learn something.”
Henry’s gaze shifted to the brewery, where lights glowed warmly in the gathering dusk. His bear pushed toward it with unexpected eagerness, drawn by the prospect of more time with Ivy.
“Just for an hour,” Henry heard himself say, the words emerging before he could reconsider. “To gather information.”