Page 19 of Grumpy Bear (Return To Fate Mountain #4)

Chapter

Sixteen

Ivy’s dining table had disappeared beneath stacks of paperwork—soil analysis reports, construction timelines, and security estimates all competing for space with her laptop and half-empty mug of tea.

The vandalism at the nature center had created a paperwork monster that she’d been battling for days.

Despite the workload, she’d made progress.

The institute had approved emergency funding for extensive security cameras, and police were taking the investigation seriously.

Her phone vibrated against the table, sending her heart racing when Henry’s name appeared on the screen. They hadn’t spoken since their argument at the vandalized exhibition space. She stared at his name for two rings before answering.

“Hello?”

“Ivy.” His deep voice rumbled through the phone. “I…” He paused. “I should have called sooner.”

She closed her laptop. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.” The firmness in his voice surprised her. “I talked to Maya. I was wrong about a lot of things.”

Ivy’s breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t expected such a direct acknowledgment.

“I’ve been looking into Porter and Lisa Mercer,” Henry continued. “Found connections between them going back years. They’ve worked together on multiple projects.”

“You think they’re behind everything?” Ivy asked.

“It fits. I shouldn’t have dismissed your judgment.” His voice lowered, vulnerability evident even through the phone. “I’m not good at admitting when I’m wrong.”

“I noticed,” Ivy replied, a smile tugging at her lips despite herself.

A quiet chuckle came through the line, warming something inside her. “I want to help, Ivy. Really help, not just criticize.”

The words settled over her like a warm blanket. “I’d like that,” she said.

Silence stretched between them, comfortable yet charged. Henry cleared his throat.

“Have dinner with me,” he said abruptly. “Saturday, at Fate Mountain Lodge. I already booked a table. If… if you want to, that is.”

Ivy pictured the luxury mountain lodge with its panoramic views and elegant dining room. She hadn’t been there in years.

“Henry Kincaid, are you asking me on a real date?”

“Yes.” The single word carried weight, hope threading through his deep voice. “I want to make things right between us.”

“I’d love to have dinner with you,” she said, her heart fluttering.

“Good. That’s…” He paused, taking a shaking breath. “I’m really glad.”

Saturday evening arrived with unexpected nervousness.

Ivy stood before her mirror, smoothing the forest green dress that fell to just above her knees, elegant yet comfortable.

She’d spent far too long deciding what to wear, changing outfits three times before settling on the dress that brought out the amber flecks in her eyes.

Her reflection showed excitement mingled with lingering uncertainty.

The days since Henry’s call had brought progress with the nature center—new security cameras installed, police reports filed, construction continuing despite the setbacks.

Yet practical concerns took a backseat to the anticipation building in her chest.

Her phone chimed with a text message: I’m outside.

Ivy took a deep breath, acknowledging the significance of the evening ahead. They’d connected physically in the storm-shrouded intimacy of his cabin. They’d endured their first real argument. Tonight felt like a deliberate choice to move forward with their bond.

She grabbed her small clutch purse and headed downstairs.

Henry waited beside his truck, and the sight of him stole her breath.

He’d traded his usual flannel and work jeans for charcoal slacks and a button-down shirt the color of midnight.

His dark hair was neatly combed, though she could see it fighting to return to its usual tousled state.

He tugged at his collar as if the unfamiliar formality chafed against his skin.

He looked up as she approached, his eyes widening slightly.

“You look beautiful,” he said, the words coming out in a rush.

Ivy smiled, warmth blooming in her chest at his genuine reaction. “You clean up pretty well yourself, Ranger.”

A hint of color touched his cheeks as he opened the passenger door for her. The gesture was so unexpectedly gentlemanly that Ivy felt a surge of affection for his effort. This wasn’t the Henry who lived comfortably in isolation. This was Henry stepping far outside his comfort zone—for her.

The drive to Fate Mountain Lodge passed quickly, the winding mountain road revealing glimpses of valley lights below.

When they arrived, Henry’s truck looked decidedly out of place among the luxury vehicles in the parking area.

He seemed to notice it too, a flash of self-consciousness crossing his face before he squared his shoulders and came around to open her door.

“It’s been years since I’ve been here,” he admitted quietly as they approached the grand entrance. “Last time was my cousin Joy’s graduation dinner.”

“I haven’t been since Reeds twenty-first birthday,” Ivy replied. “But we used to come a lot when I was a kid. Dad and Levi Blackthorn were on Search and Rescue together.”

The lodge’s main entrance welcomed them with soaring timber beams and a massive stone fireplace crackling with warmth.

The rustic luxury spoke to the mountain’s natural beauty while offering refined comfort.

A hostess greeted them with professional courtesy, checking Henry’s reservation before leading them through the dining room.

Their table sat near a wall of windows overlooking the lake. Candles cast a warm glow across the white tablecloth, reflecting in the polished silverware and crystal glasses. It was undeniably romantic.

After they were seated, a waiter with a professional manner approached their table. “Good evening. I’m Thomas. I’ll be your server. Would you like to hear our specials?” he asked.

Ivy and Henry nodded before he continued.

“For appetizers, Chef Keenan is featuring Alpine Mushroom Tartlets—wild mushrooms sautéed with garlic and herbs, nestled in buttery pastry shells and topped with a drizzle of truffle oil.” The description alone sent earthy, aromatic notes wafting through Ivy’s imagination.

“We also have Mountain Stream Smoked Trout, house-smoked from local waters, served with pickled vegetables, caper berries, and rustic sourdough toast.”

“For main courses,” Thomas continued, “we’re offering a Black Angus Ribeye, grilled to your preference with woodland mushroom ragout, garlic herb butter, and rosemary roasted potatoes.

And our Mountain Meadow Chicken features a free-range breast stuffed with herb cheese, wrapped in prosciutto, and served with wild rice pilaf and honey-glazed rainbow carrots.

” Thomas folded his hands, awaiting their decisions.

“The tartlets sound wonderful to start,” Ivy said, drawn to the earthy flavors.

“And I’d like the ribeye for my main course,” Henry added decisively. “Medium-rare.”

Ivy smiled, not surprised by his choice of the heartiest option. “I’ll have the Mountain Meadow Chicken,” she said.

“Excellent choices,” Thomas affirmed, collecting their menus with an efficient motion. “Would you care for wine with your dinner tonight?”

Henry nodded. “What would you recommend?”

“For these selections, our Pinot Noir from Hood Valley Vineyard pairs beautifully. It’s locally produced,” Thomas suggested.

Henry glanced at Ivy, who gave a subtle nod of agreement. The vineyard was known for its quality, and she appreciated that he’d asked her opinion.

“We’ll try that,” Henry said.

“I’ll have that brought right out for you,” Thomas replied.

The initial conversation came carefully, both of them navigating the lingering awareness of their argument.

Henry asked about the security cameras, and Ivy shared the institute’s swift response to the vandalism.

She inquired about his patrols, and he described a family of fox kits he’d spotted near the eastern ridge.

The wine arrived, deep ruby in the candlelight.

Henry tasted it with a seriousness that made Ivy smile, then nodded his approval.

The tartlets followed shortly after, their golden crusts filled with rich, dark mushrooms. The smell hit Ivy immediately—woodsy and wild, with an earthy depth that reminded her of the forest after rain.

She breathed in deeply, savoring the aroma before taking a bite.

“Oh my god,” she murmured, closing her eyes as the flavors bloomed across her tongue. “These taste like the mountain.”

Henry nodded, seeming surprised by the intensity of flavor. Ivy watched him as he ate. His shoulders relaxed, his gestures became more natural as he described the seasonal movement of deer herds through the mountains.

“Sorry,” he said suddenly, seeming to realize he’d been talking at length. “I get carried away sometimes.”

“Don’t apologize,” Ivy said, reaching across the table to touch his hand briefly. “I love hearing you talk about the forest.”

Their main courses arrived. Her chicken was wrapped in thin prosciutto that had crisped around the edges, and when she cut into it, melted cheese spilled out in a fragrant stream. The first bite made her close her eyes. It was salty, creamy, and satisfying.

Across the table, Henry cut into his ribeye. The knife sank through with barely any resistance, revealing perfect pink at the center. When he took his first bite, his eyes widened slightly.

“Good?” she asked, smiling at his obvious enjoyment.

“So good,” he admitted, cutting another piece.

After a moment’s hesitation, Ivy offered her fork across the table. “Want to try mine?”

Henry accepted the offered bite, his expression thoughtful. “Complex,” he acknowledged. “Like the person who ordered it.”

The unexpected compliment warmed her more than the wine. He cut a piece of his ribeye, offering it in return. The meat practically melted in her mouth, rich and tender.

As they savored their meal, the conversation shifted naturally to the nature center.

“I spoke with Porter’s former foreman this week,” Henry said, cutting another piece of ribeye.

“Guy named Jerry who quit after the Riverfront Development issues. He confirmed Porter and Lisa were behind schedule problems on at least two projects where they later took over construction.”

Ivy nodded thoughtfully, taking another bite of her chicken. “And I found those boundary markers had been tampered with twice. After we fixed them the first time, someone moved them again. The land survey office has now driven permanent metal stakes that can’t be easily moved.”

“Smart,” Henry said with approval. “I’ve been thinking we need a coordinated approach to catch them in the act.”

When their plates were cleared, Thomas returned with the dessert menu.

“If I may recommend, our two specials tonight are particularly wonderful. The Alpine Sunset is a maple crème br?lée garnished with candied nuts and fresh berries. We also have our Moonlit Mountain Cheesecake—New York style with huckleberry compote and fresh whipped cream.”

“The cheesecake sounds perfect,” Ivy decided. “To share?”

Henry nodded, handing back the dessert menu. As they waited for dessert, their conversation took a more personal turn.

“I need to tell you something,” Ivy said, tracing the stem of her wine glass. “About the day we argued.”

Henry’s expression grew serious, but he nodded for her to continue.

“What you said—about my optimism sometimes blinding me—it hurt because...” She took a breath. “Because sometimes I worry about that too. That I try so hard to see the good in people that I miss obvious warnings.”

The confession felt heavier than she’d intended, years of self-doubt surfacing in a single sentence.

“Ivy,” Henry started. “I didn’t say it right that day. Your ability to see the best in people isn’t a weakness. It’s one of your strengths.”

The cheesecake arrived, a slice of pure white topped with dark purple berries that looked like twilight descending over snow.

“Being positive all the time—it’s exhausting sometimes,” Ivy continued, surprising herself with the confession as she took a bite of the cheesecake.

The sweetness melted on her tongue, followed by the tang of wild berries that reminded her of childhood hikes with her mother.

“Everyone expects Dr. Bright to be sunshine and solutions, never doubt or darkness.”

Henry studied her face, seeing beyond her usual brightness to the complexity beneath. “You carry that weight for others. I see it now.”

The simple acknowledgment nearly undid her. Ivy looked down at the dessert, gathering herself before meeting his gaze again.

“It’s why the project matters so much,” she admitted, watching as Henry tasted the dessert, his eyes closing briefly in appreciation. “If I can’t make it work, after all the trust people have placed in me...”

Henry reached across the table, his larger hand covering hers. “You don’t have to carry it alone anymore.” The words settled around her like a promise. Ivy turned her hand beneath his, their fingers intertwining.

“We see things differently,” Henry continued, his thumb brushing across her knuckles. “But maybe that’s exactly what we both need.”

Ivy smiled, feeling lighter than she had in weeks. “Who would have thought the grumpy forest hermit would be the one to remind me it’s okay not to be sunny all the time?”

“And who would have thought the eternal optimist would be the one to drag me out of isolation,” Henry countered, the corner of his mouth lifting in a half-smile.

When the last of the cheesecake was gone, Henry settled the bill despite Ivy’s offer to share the cost. “This was my invitation,” he insisted, his tone gentle but firm.

As they stood to leave, Henry hesitated. “The view of the lake is beautiful at night,” he said. “Would you like to take a walk before we head back?”

Ivy smiled, taking his arm. “I’d love to.”